It's Monday noon, and lunchtime. Everyone is outside enjoying their break, but Che is in his classroom, asleep at his desk, arms folded under his head. The room is empty except for him.
Amelie walks in, carrying books in her hands. She spots Che and hesitates for a moment before approaching his desk.
"Hey."
"Hi."
"I watched your match."
"For real? So unlucky that we lost."
"Yeah, but you still played well."
"Does that even matter if we lost?"
"It does. I just wanted to say—we're proud of you guys."
"Thanks, I guess… Never took you as the type to like football though."
"I'm not. But you know my brother—he's always talking about football, dragging me to his games. He actually speaks very highly of you."
"Adrian? Speak highly of me? Yeah, I doubt that."
"He does. I didn't take him seriously at first, but now I think he's right..."
"And what exactly does he say?"
"That you're a magician."
"A magician? No way. Anything but that."
"You need to stop being humble about yourself. I've always loved watching footballers who have a little cockiness and confidence in their abilities."
"I—I never said I was humble. I just don't think I'm a magician."
"Whatever you say. Anyway, my brother told me you've got trials for Stuttgart next month. Hope you make it."
"No need to hope. I will make it."
"Ohhh, so now you're cocky and confident."
"I mean…"
They both laugh, and Amelie heads to her seat. Che's smile fades when he notices his teammates, Leon and Nico, standing by the door, grinning at him.
"Ooooooooooouuuuuuuu!"
They start laughing, making exaggerated gestures toward Che. Amelie sighs, rolls her eyes, and puts her headphones on, going back to her book. Leon and Nico stroll dramatically into the classroom, still giggling.
"Losing finally got you talking to a girl, huh?"
"What do you guys want?"
"Can't we check in on our underclassman after such a crushing defeat?"
"No, you can't. Go be depressed on your own like everyone else."
"Bro, what? You do know the two of us are supposed to be the next leaders of the team, right?"
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"We're doing what great leaders do—checking up on our teammates. Right, Leon?"
"Exactly."
"And since Leon and I are in the same class, yours was closest."
"You guys just wanted to come and annoy me, didn't you?"
"No, actually. And considering you have no other friends, it made sense."
Leon sits on the desk in front of Che, looking smug.
"I have friends."
Leon and Nico side-eye each other before bursting into laughter.
"Name one friend you have who isn't on the football team."
Che opens his mouth to respond but pauses, realizing he can't think of anyone.
"See?! That's why we're good team leaders!"
"Hey! Can you guys keep it down? I'm trying to read."
"Don't you have headphones on?"
"Exactly—that's how loud you guys are." Amelie sighs and refocuses on her book.
Leon leans closer, and the three huddle around Che's desk.
"So, bro… why's Amelie reading alone?" he whispers.
"Because she wants to. Alone, I assume."
"Yeah, yeah, I get that. But why are you letting it happen?"
"We already talked."
"Did you ask for her number?"
"No… Should I have?"
"Shou—Nico, please." Leon throws his hands up dramatically.
"Bro, how are you gonna get to know her if you don't have her number? To talk to her? To ask her out? To be her boyfriend?"
"I… honestly didn't think about that."
"EXACTLY!" Both of them shout at Che while banging on his desk
"Shhhh!"
"Sorry. Keep it low, she might hear us."
The school bell rings.
"Bro, do it. Now!" Leon gestures like he's sending prayers up for Che. Che nods reluctantly, and the two leave the room.
Amelie removes her headphones and packs her things. Che takes a deep breath, rips a piece of paper from his notebook, grabs his pen from his blazer, and walks over to her desk. He sits beside her, turning slightly to face her.
"Amelie… Can I ask you something?"
"What's up?"
"Can I… have your number? So we can talk on the phone? It's cool if you don't want to."
"Okay."
"For real?"
"Yeah."
"Awesome."
Che grins, holding out the paper and pen. Amelie laughs and holds out her hand.
"Give me the pen and paper, dummy."
"Oh—my bad."
"You know… you're really different from when I watched you play the other day."
"Yeah?"
"It's kinda cool."
"You think so?! I mean… You think so?"
She chuckles, writes her number down, and hands the paper back. Che walks to his desk, smiling at the number before stuffing it into his pocket.
After school, the coach tells everyone to rest for the day and come back tomorrow for training. Some seniors refuse—they want to train now. Che joins them, and they run their own session.
At first, training is dull and quiet, but as the drills go on, the players start talking more. The session ends up being fun, making Che feel lighter.
Che finally arrives home. He showers, grabs some snacks, and settles in to watch football on TV. His mom comes back from work.
"Hey."
"Hallooo. How's my son?"
"I'm good. You?"
"Great! Just a little tired. Listen, I'm about to do laundry—where are your dirty clothes?"
"In the basket. Some are on the bean bag."
"You really need to stop tossing clothes on that thing. I didn't buy it for dirty laundry."
"Okay."
"Should I wash your school blazer too?"
"Yeah, I'm not wearing it."
Che stays focused on the game until something clicks. His expression shifts, and suddenly, he tosses his chips aside and sprints to the laundry room.
"Ma! Wait!"
"What? What?! Why are you screaming?"
He frantically searches through the laundry pile.
"What are you doing?! You better pick that up. And whatever you're looking for better be worth it."
"It is. Where's my blazer? Where is it?!"
"Already put it in."
"What?! Why would you—stop the machine!"
"Calm down first. I'm not stopping the cycle until you tell me what's going on."
"I—I'm looking for a piece of paper! Can you stop it before it gets wet?"
"Relax. I left the paper on your bed."
Che bolts to his room and sees the paper sitting safely on his bed. He grabs it, scanning for the number. When he finds it, he lets out a breath of relief.
"Thank you."
"Did you find what you were freaking out over?"
"Yes! Thanks."
Later, his mom makes dinner, and they eat while watching her dramas.
"So… who's Amelie with the little heart?"
Che chokes on his food. His mom bursts out laughing.
"She's… a friend from school. A classmate."
"Just a friend?"
"Yes. Just a friend. Also—why are you going through my stuff?"
"First, I can look through whatever I want in this house. Second, you would've been crying if I hadn't. And third—do you like her?"
"I don't know." He starts smiling.
"Come on! I wasn't born yesterday."
They stare at each other before laughing again. Che accidentally spits a little food onto the floor.
"Ew. Boy you better clean that up when you're done."
"I'm sorry. My bad."