Freya — Almost Something.

Once again, I arrived at the club earlier than I needed to.

The jog was a soothing way to fit in extra exercise, even if I barely broke a sweat. Club members hailed me across the field, waving or calling my name. I felt an instant sense of belonging in this lively community.

After greeting everyone, I walked past the busy locker room toward the back of the clubhouse, moving seamlessly from the noise to the quiet storage unit where all the training equipment waited. I knelt down, unlocked it with the team keychain every coach and trainer carried, flipped on the humming neon lights inside, and rolled out the plastic container marked with my team’s name. I reached up to the shelves, pulled down a few obstacle props, and balanced them in my arms as I headed out to the field, ready to set things up before the others arrived.

Three other teams were already practising. I exchanged signals with the other trainers, and to my surprise, Kaiden was present. He was surrounded by a group of fourteen-year-old boys, half his height. I couldn’t hear them, but saw the boys’ eyes gleam as Kaiden showcased ball control skills. They watched him in awe.

“Did you come early to impress the kids or the other trainers?” I teased as Kaiden jogged toward me, the trainers still eyeing him with admiration.

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Kaiden brushed his hair from his eyes. As he did, I noticed a scar on his temple I hadn’t seen before.

Kaiden asked, “Were you impressed?”

“I’m kind of disappointed you thought I would be.”

Once Kaiden and I finished our initial greetings, we turned our focus to setting up the field. Moving smoothly from conversation to action, we laid out an obstacle course to improve conditioning and agility, placing round hoop rings for pinpoint shooting practice and positioning triangle-shaped cones for coordination and quick passing without losing momentum.

We called the children over, and Kaiden and I guided them into a loose circle, standing shoulder to shoulder with them, facing us.

“Some of you might already know him,” I started, wanting to introduce them to their new player, when Clayton interrupted me.

“Kaiden Matthews, 22 years old. 1,5 goals per game, 15 assists, 4 yellow cards, direct shot 100 km per hour. Fact! “ Clayton rattled, as if reading the statistics of a trading card.

A bright smile spread across Kaiden's face, and his eyes lit up. Does he recognise Clayton's obsession with facts?

I shake my head and say, "Don't get all cocky; Clayton is Nathaniel's biggest fan."

“Now,” I snapped my hands together. “Let's see who stayed sharp over the summer and who fell behind.”

The children started laughing, pointing their fingers at who they thought had not done the summer assignment.

As the practice carried on, I found myself watching Kaiden more than the drills. There was something about the way he commanded the boys’ attention—not with loud orders or harsh discipline, but with a quiet confidence that demanded respect.

The kids hung on his every word, as if he held the key to unlocking their potential. And somehow, they gave him that respect willingly.

“Keep your heads up! Eyes on the ball!” Kaiden called out, crouching low to demonstrate a quick footwork move. “You’re not just running, you’re thinking—anticipate, react, control,” he continued.

A boy stumbled, and Kaiden was instantly there, clapping his hands. “That’s it! Don’t be afraid to mess up. Every mistake is a step closer to getting it right,” he encouraged.

I smiled, impressed by how effortlessly he connected with them.

When the drills wrapped up, it was time for the last fifteen minutes, reserved for a short game. We divided the children into two groups, handing out jackets: Blue for Kaiden's team and Red for mine.

The scrimmage started as a fun way to end a training session, but it evolved into a heated game.

Kaiden’s team scored a goal. I shot him a quick look. “No! Offside! That goal doesn’t count.”

He grinned back. “You’re just jealous because I’m better at bending the rules.”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. “Bending the rules? More like breaking them.”

Kaiden stepped closer, eyes twinkling. “Come on, Freya, where’s your sense of adventure? You know I play to win.”

I shook my head, laughing. “Someone’s getting cocky.”

The kids near us giggled, their eyes flicking between Kaiden and me, taking in our banter like it was part of the day's lesson. --- After the final whistle, we gathered everyone for a quick round-up. As the energy of the game faded into a quieter focus, I explained what we should focus on in the coming days so that they are prepared for the upcoming game next Wednesday.

As the children trailed back from the field, sports bags hanging over their shoulders, I watched the tired but satisfied smiles on their faces. Clayton gave me one last wave and then joined his twin brother, signalling the end of another session.

As Kaiden and I walked back and forth across the field, gathering cones and ball bags, he began to explain his ideas for future training sessions. He spoke quickly, gesturing with a cone in one hand and a ball in the other, and his enthusiasm made me realise he was more than just a great player. His soccer IQ was admirable.

My eyes must have lingered on him too long, betraying an interest I couldn’t quite place.

He straightened his back, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. “So, tell me. Nathaniel, is he your boyfriend?” Kaiden asked.

I shrugged, not surprised that the rumours about Nathaniel and me had already made their rounds. In a town like Eldermoor, news travelled fast. “No... uh yes... no... I mean...” I stammered. The question stirred a knot of uncertainty inside me. The tangled mess of feelings made me stumble over the words, unable to settle on one answer. Last night, Nathaniel and I had discussed this same subject, leaving him drifting on the waves of my uncertainty. Why can't I answer Kaiden's question with ease?

Dropping my gaze, avoiding Kaiden's eyes, I pressed my fingertips against my outer thighs until my knuckles whitened. “It’s complicated,” I muttered.

Kaiden let his arms drop to his sides, his fingers flexing before he caught my gaze. His jaw tightens, just briefly. Not at me, at the answer.

For a moment, I wondered if he thought badly of me. Then he let out a deep breath, breaking the tension.

“Complicated, huh.” He nods once, like that confirms something. “Makes sense.” Then turned away, bending down to collect the scattered balls. His actions left me even more confused. Why did it feel like he wasn’t asking about me at all, but still somehow knew the answer mattered?

❤️ Maliyka ❤️