The Compulsion to Find Love

Chapter 5: Predisposition

The biting wind swept across the pitch and whipped Louis' fringe in front of his face. He clumsily pushed it out of his eyes while trying to focus on the football coach standing in front of him.

"Let me get this right," the beta sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You were part of the team that won the Northern England inter-school competition in? The top league?"

"That's right, Sir," Louis confirmed, tucking his hands beneath his armpits for warmth as the bitter wind numbed his fingertips.

"And you're a freshman student here? At Candling?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And you want to join our university football team?"

Louis nodded, slightly exasperated. "Yes, I do."

"Right, well," he said, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck and looking at Louis like he was the answer to eternal happiness. "Welcome to the team then, son," he said, beaming down at him and shaking the omega's hand enthusiastically. "Go ahead and start warming up your muscles on the pitch with the rest of the team."

Louis was taken aback at the coach's enthusiasm but followed his instructions, running towards the group of twenty students, burly alphas and athletic betas alike observing him.

"Louis! Good to see you, lad," he heard a cheerful voice with a delightful Irish lilt call across the field.

"Niall," he said, face breaking into a smile and demeanour changing when he saw the familiar beta approaching him.

"Looks like coach has already taken a shining to you," he said, nodding to where the beta was talking to his assistant and regularly pointing excitedly in the omega's direction. "He probably thinks we finally have a chance of making it far in the inter-university competitions this year, what with so many freshmen joining the team." Niall indicated at a group of students standing cautiously at the sidelines, shooting furtive glances at the coach.

"The team can't possibly be that bad," Louis said kindly, lunging forward to stretch his calf muscles.

Niall cackled, chest muscles moving with the pitch. "Trust me; we are," he assured.

"Right, freshmen line up here," the coach barked, voice adopting the assertiveness is lacked while speaking individually to Louis. He assumed that he felt the need to demonstrate his authority before the alphas on the team, whose natural instinct was to oppose or challenge the beta.

Louis, along with the twelve other first year students, jogged towards the sidelines of the pitch. He noticed their vast assortment of clothing; heavy jackets, ill-fitting sports shoes and thick tracksuits. He was relieved to have suitable sports leggings and his former football jersey from school to keep him adequately warm but agile as they began more strenuous stretches.

"I'm going to assess each of you on basic but necessary skills," the beta said, walking along the row of students. "And then we'll play a match as a whole team. I'll decide whose made it on the team and assign substitutes before the next training session. If you don't make the cut then you're welcome to apply next year."

Louis wasn't sure whether or not he had already been given an automatic place on the team but he knew better than reserving himself. He exerted himself on the pitch, applying the defending skills he had honed during years of training and running gracefully across the field. He passed the ball effortlessly, light-footed and nimble beside the hefty alphas.

"Wonderful, just wonderful!" he heard the coach exclaim when he made a particularly impressive block with the tip of his football boot. The alpha who had lost control of the ball shot him a look of contempt. The coach blew his whistle, signalling the end of the match and dictating his team as the champions. One of the defenders he had been on the team with, a beta with a warm smile and a talent for slipping the ball out from underneath the feet of unsuspecting alphas, congratulated him on the result.