Peter Soccer

Chapter 5

The commentator’s voice boomed instantly:

“It’s the opening day of the new season of the MLS Future Stars Eastern Conference, as the Riverside Rovers take on Belvert.

Both sides finished below the playoff places last year, with Belvert finishing 10th and Riverside 11th.”

“Almost fifteen minutes into this one, and Belvert come away with the ball. It was loose from Walker in midfield, and they gave away possession. Riverside can attack through Dickson, who drives forward, lays it off to Eric on the right, and he shoots!” A roar was heard from the crowd.

“And that is the opening goal of the game!

The hosts take the lead in this one.”

Peter hummed a little on the bench. His eyes met Will’s, and they both tried to smile.

“C’mon boys, we’ve got this!” Coach Tim yelled. As the game wore on, Belvert got better.

“Half an hour on the clock, and nothing much has happened since that strike by Eric a quarter of an hour ago. It’s a corner for Belvert, to be taken by Drew. He whips it in... headed by Preston! Oh, saved by the keeper! But it comes out to Will!”

“There’s the equalizer! Belvert draw level!”

The bench joined in the celebrations. Peter was elated, and so was Coach Tim.

“Yesss! Yes, boys!”

“A few minutes left before halftime! Riverside have all of the ball since Belvert equalized, and here they come again down the left-hand side. It’s Rory driving past Chase. He gets to the byline, squares it across the box, and it’s touched home by Eric again! Riverside regain their lead in this tie!”

“And that’s halftime!”

In the dressing room, Coach Tim tried to calm them down.

“Everyone sit down! Sit down!” The noise calmed.

“We’re behind, yes, but it’s not over yet. We’ve come from behind once, we can do it again.” He stretched out his hand, and everyone joined in.

“On three: one, two, three!”

“BELVERT!” they chorused as they left the dressing room.

“The second half has started just as the first left off. The Riverside players seem to be up for it today, while Belvert can’t seem to find their footing whatsoever. It’s been almost forty minutes since they had a shot, and now the hosts come again. Finn dribbles past Graham and Max. He has space to shoot! It’s a stunning goal from Finn, and just what Riverside needed. With twenty minutes left to play, they may have put this one to bed.”

Coach Tim looked furious. He turned to the bench and said,

“Peter, you and Declan get ready. You’re coming on.”

Peter felt his heart throb a little, but he quickly pulled on his jersey with the number 17 inscribed on the back. Soon the ref made the signal for a change.

“Well, Belvert will make a double substitution. Drew and Graham will be coming off for Peter and Declan.”

As soon as Peter got onto the pitch, he waved at Will, who smiled back. He felt at ease a little. Peter’s chance came faster than he had probably expected, as Will crossed a long ball towards him. He trapped it and came at his marker. With a slick, almost natural move, he dribbled past him. He could hear the commentator say:

“Oh, and here goes Peter into the box. Tries to cut it back!”

Peter fell to the floor. He had been pushed. He turned to the referee, who almost immediately blew his whistle and pointed to the spot.

“Penalty! Well, the referee is convinced Peter was fouled and has given the penalty to Belvert.”

Will helped Peter stand up as most of his teammates patted him.

“Nice job,” Declan said.

“Thanks,” that was all he could say. He was looking at Preston as he took the ball, ready to take the penalty. Preston looked back at him, and Peter said,

“Good luck.”

“I won’t need it,” he smirked. The referee blew his whistle.

“Goal! Belvert are right back in it now!” Clean strike to the bottom corner by Preston, and it’s a one-goal game again.

“There are just two minutes remaining, and Belvert are searching for an equalizer. As they come down the right side through Will, who beats his man and cuts it back for Preston! Saved by the keeper and out for a corner! Goodness me, that was close!”

“The corner is taken by Will, who takes it short to Peter. He gets past Eric, looking for space to shoot! It comes off the post! How agonizing! Belvert have come so, so close here, but that might just be that.”

“The goalkeeper takes the goal kick, and the referee blows his final whistle! Quite the thriller here at Riverside. The hosts took the lead through Eric before Will equalized for Belvert. The home side retook the lead before halftime, and with fifteen minutes to go, Finn thought he’d sealed it for the hosts with a wonder strike. Then substitute Peter was fouled in the box for a penalty, which Preston converted. And with pretty much the last kick of the game, Peter hit the bar with an effort from outside the box.

It ends here: Riverside 3, Belvert 2.”

---

When the players stumbled into the dressing room, the air was thick with noise—voices crashing over one another, relief and frustration spilling out in equal measure.

Will and Peter sank onto the bench side by side, chest heaving, sweat cooling on their skin. Will turned, his eyes catching Peter’s, and said, low but certain:

“You did great today. No matter the result. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks,” Peter murmured, his cheeks burning before he could stop them.

“I’m gonna go shower. Be back in a sec,” Will said, already rising.

But Peter stopped him. “Hey… Will. You did alright.”

Will paused, a slow smile breaking through the exhaustion.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”

---

The academy lights glared against the night as they rolled back in at nearly 8 p.m.

By 10, the dorm was silent—everyone surrendered to sleep. Except Peter.

He switched on his phone for the first time since morning. The screen lit up with Nyla’s name, over and over. Missed calls.

His thumb hesitated, then dialed.

"heyyy this is Nyla , you know what to do !.."

“Hey… uhh, sorry I missed your calls. It’s been a day. The game… it went alright. We lost, though. Tough one. But I earned a penalty. Almost scored, too. Maybe next time. Oh—tell Nova to… you know what, never mind. I’ll… yeah.”

The line cut dead.

He stared at the ceiling. Nova’s face surfaced in his mind without permission.

He didn’t even like her. Not really.

So why did the thought of her smile—soft, feminine, infuriating—make his chest tighten?

Why did her voice echo louder than the crowd?

Why did the memory of that kiss come back uninvited, pulling at the corner of his mouth until he was smiling at nothing in the dark?

He exhaled, heart restless.

“I’ll call her… maybe tomorrow. Or next. Or never.”

But he already knew the answer.