Figuring You Out

Chapter Twenty- Two

"You have trained for this, you are ready," Coach tries, we are all sitting on the benches of our changing room ready to play.

"Anyone would think it's the six nations," Bram sulks beside me.

"And Cassell would do well to remember who that is all down to," Coach booms, approaching nearer me and Bram as I cringe away from his explosive voice, "Right, come on, lets go,"

We all stand and move to the pitch where Liam steps in line with me, "Ready?"

"We've beaten them before," I comment, stretching me arms over my chest.

"Why do you never get nervous?" he asks.

"I'm just such a cool guy," I tease, bumping his shoulder as we reach split for our separate positions.

"Fuck off," he laughs, moving back to defence as I step forward to attack positions. The whistle blows and the game begins. 

                                                                                         ---- 

"Next month we train twice as much, twice as hard, twice as long," Coach lectures, I tip the water down my throat breathless as Coach lectures about the, "Absolute failure,"

"We only lost by three points," Dominic says cautiously, we all turn at him like he has three heads.

"Key word, Garcia, is lost," Coach replies coldly, getting in his face again, he moves his head right back against the wall, "No get changed," he says, his tone softening just a little, we all stand and move to our respective bags.

"Come on, round mine for Xbox," Liam urges, pushing up his sweaty hair.

"And pizza, it's your week," I add, feeling my stomach rumble. He rolls his eyes but nods as we begin our trek back to his.

"Chapman, a word," Coach calls, from the outside of the changing room, I groan internally and drag my feet to him, "Good game,"

"Thank you, Coach. Is that all Coach?" I ask.

"I can congratulate you when you have played well, even when we have lost," he says, I nod and go to turn, "There's something up, Chapman. I've been coaching you since you were seven,"

"Nothing to worry about Coach," I smile, swallowing the aggressive lump of secrecy in my throat, turning around and leaving again, stepping in line with Liam.

"If I'm buying the pizza, I get to choose and I vote pepperoni," Liam says, dismissing Coach completely, I laugh and agree.

"Come on, let's get the Tube, it's far too cold," Liam says, shrugging on his jacket, I agree and move towards the Tube station, getting my Oster card out and swiping through the barrier and to the right platform.

"How's revision going with the book dude, then?"

"Dull," I lie, causally, thankful the upcoming train is distraction enough to make Liam forget his questioning. We arrive at his and move the bed to the other side of the room so we have more room to play the game of the century- FIFA.

"Did you get that email from Fryday, by the way?" Liam asks, halfway through a game.

"No, what was it?" I ask, shovelling a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

"He's setting a test and then intervention depended on the results," he sighs, pausing the game. I turn to him confused, I pause not knowing what to do, "I'm like you know... bricking it,"

"Liam, it's fine, it's just a test. Its not even the real thing," I assure, he's never usually like this always confident and carefree, "It's fine,"

"I won't be able to go to University to do my Business course if I don't get a full set of GCSE's," his voice faltering a touch, staring down at the carpet. 

"You will get it, so don't worry, ok?" I say, turning to him fully this time, "Another game before I go?"

"Sure," he says, relaxing a bit and replaying the game, "Just letting you know though I'm going to absolutely destroy you,"

"Sure, you are," I challenge, he shoves me in the elbow and we continue playing the game. And when I say playing I mean me killing him.