I turned away. Stupid hot jerk. Stupid perfect face. Stupid confusing everything.
“You don’t know how to play, do you?” he asked after a pause.
“I do!” I said. “I just... forgot.”
He actually laughed. A quiet, short chuckle. His face softened. For the first time, he looked almost... human.
“Okay. Here’s the deal,” he said, wiping his hands. “Stick to the edge of the field. Right side. Stay parallel with the strikers. Your job is to intercept passes and kick them up. Don’t chase. Let the ball come to you.”
I blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s all I trust you with.”
I glared. “Gee, thanks.”
“But if you actually pay attention,” he continued, “you’ll realize this matters. The King’s obsessed with football. Alpha Trials always have a match.”
I swallowed. So Justin was right. Great.
“Why ar
