The hallway of the Blue Velvet lounge was lined with plush carpet that swallowed the sound of my footsteps. I adjusted the strap of the tote bag on my shoulder. Inside was a thermos of hot ginger tea, a cashmere shawl, and Lena's favourite painkillers.
Twenty minutes ago, Lena had texted me: Harry, I'm at the karaoke place with the girls, but I feel dizzy. The incident today... I'm scared.
The "incident" was a bucket of ice water dumped on her in the cafeteria. It was the third time this week Lena Shaw had been targeted. She had looked at me with red, puffy eyes, shivering in her soaked uniform, and that was the moment I finally broke.
I had promised her this afternoon: I'll transfer. I'll go to Haleswood High with you.
It was madness. Haleswood was a graveyard for ambition. No scouts went there. The pitch was dirt and gravel. For a striker on the verge of a European academy call-up, it was career suicide. But for Lena—my childhood friend, the girl I had quietly loved since we were six—I was ready to hang up my boots.
I reached for the brass handle of Room 302.
Then, I froze.
"I can't believe you actually got him to agree," a shrill voice giggled from inside. It was Sarah, one of the girls who had supposedly been "bullying" Lena for months. "You pretended to be the victim for weeks just to get Harry to transfer to that dump?"
My hand hovered inches from the door. My heart slammed against my ribs, a sudden, violent rhythm.
"It wasn't just weeks," Lena's voice floated through the door. It wasn't the trembling, fragile voice she used with me. It was cool, detached, and dripping with amusement. "I had to stage the water bucket thing perfectly today. He finally snapped. The look on his face—like a hero in a bad movie."
Laughter erupted in the room. It sounded like glass breaking.
"But Lena," another girl asked, "Harry is your childhood friend. He's the captain of the football team. He's giving up everything. Isn't that... cruel?"
"It's necessary," Lena sighed, the sound of ice clinking in a glass following her words. "I've had enough of him always hovering. It's suffocating. Getting some distance between us is exactly what I wanted."
"Distance?" Sarah laughed. "You're sending him to Haleswood while you stay here! That's not distance, that's exile."
"He'll survive," Lena said dismissively. "Besides... it's for Michael."
Michael. The transfer student. The quiet, 'sensitive' boy Lena had been tutoring.
"Michael feels inferior when Harry is around," Lena continued, her voice softening into a tone I had yearned for but never received. "Michael gets anxious seeing Harry shine on the pitch, seeing everyone treat Harry like a king. I need Harry gone so Michael can breathe. So he can be the main character for once."
"Wow," Sarah said. "You're dumping the Golden Boot winner for the benchwarmer? That's bold."
"Harry is just... a lot," Lena said. "He's a lapdog. Loyal, sure. But who wants a boyfriend who just follows orders? Michael needs me. Harry just needs a ball."
I stood there in the dimly lit hallway. The bag in my hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
A lapdog.
Ten years. Ten years of walking her home. Ten years of sharing my lunch. Ten years of turning down dates with other girls because I was waiting for her to notice me. And all this time, she was orchestrating my downfall just to boost another man's ego.
She hadn't been bullied. She had been the playwright of her own tragedy, and I was the prop she was discarding in the final act.
I looked at the door. I could kick it open. I could storm in there, pour the hot ginger tea on the expensive carpet, and scream at her. I could demand an explanation.
But then I remembered something my coach told me: "The loudest player is usually the weakest. The dangerous one is the one who goes silent."
I slowly lowered my hand.
I walked over to the trash can at the end of the hall. I opened the lid.
I dropped the tote bag inside. The thermos thudded heavily against the bottom.
I turned around and walked out of the Blue Velvet. The night air hit my face, cold and sharp. It didn't sting. It felt like waking up from a long, feverish dream.
My house was dark when I got back. My parents were in Tokyo on business, leaving me with the silence and the trophies that lined my shelves.
I walked into my room. On my desk sat the transfer application for Haleswood High. It was filled out in my neat block letters, signed and ready to be submitted tomorrow morning.
I picked it up.
I looked at the words: Reason for Transfer: Personal.
"Personal," I scoffed into the empty room.
I ripped the paper in half. Then in quarters. I let the pieces fall into the wastebasket.
I sat down at my computer and woke the screen. I navigated to a hidden folder I had named 'Maybe'.
Inside was a single file: Valencia Sports Academy - International Admission Offer.
It was an offer from one of the most prestigious football academies in Spain. They had scouted me six months ago. My father wanted me to go. My coach wanted me to go.
I had ignored it. I had told myself I couldn't leave Lena alone.
I opened the file. The cursor blinked in the acceptance field.
Lena wanted distance. She wanted me out of her school, out of her life, so her new toy wouldn't feel insecure.
"Fine," I whispered, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "You want distance? I'll give you an ocean."
I began to type.
Name:Harry ChasePosition:Striker / CAMAcceptance:Confirmed.
I hit Send.
The screen refreshed. Application Received. Welcome to Valencia.
I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking. A strange sensation washed over me. It wasn't sadness. It was the icy clarity of a striker who finds himself one-on-one with the keeper.
The whistle had blown. The game had changed.
I wasn't going to Haleswood to be a victim. I was going to Europe to be a legend. And when I finally returned, I wouldn't be the dog waiting at the door.
I would be the one holding the leash.