Chapter 28: You Earned Your Place

Chapter 28: Chapter 28: You Earned Your Place

The air on campus had completely shifted.

Winning changes everything. After beating East State, Westbridge had officially climbed into the top three of the university league table. Suddenly, everyone cared about football.

Students who didn’t even know the rules were wearing black and white scarves to class. The campus athletic center was packed. The pressure was building.

Monday morning, Audrey walked into the journalism office and found Mrs. Higgins waiting for her.

"Take a seat, Ellis," Mrs. Higgins said.

Audrey sat down, dropping her heavy bag on the floor. "Is something wrong with my draft?"

"No," Mrs. Higgins said. She slid a printed email across her desk. "Your next article won’t just be read by students."

Audrey looked down at the paper. It was an email from Statewide Sports Magazine. They were asking for permission to republish Audrey’s tactical analysis from the East State match.

Audrey was stunned. She stared at the logo on the paper. "...They want to print my article?"

"They want your brain, Ellis," Mrs. Higgins corrected smoothly. "You have a good eye for the pitch. Don’t let the sudden attention make you sloppy. Keep working."

By the time Audrey reached the training pitch that afternoon, she realized exactly what Mrs. Higgins meant by sudden attention.

There were spectators in the stands. Three local sports bloggers were standing near the touchline with professional cameras. The relaxed, chaotic energy of the team was completely gone.

Coach Miller wasn’t joking today. The players weren’t laughing.

They were running intense, exhausting counter-attack drills.

Audrey stood near the benches, watching Mason. He looked completely different.

He was still calm, but it was a heavy, serious calm. He wasn’t the lazy, smiling guy who stole her pens or joked about physics at the bowling alley. He was barking orders, shifting the defensive line, and completely shutting down the strikers.

When a first-year player missed a crucial pass, Mason didn’t pat his back and joke about it.

"Head up!" Mason yelled across the grass. "You have three seconds to make that decision! Check your shoulder before you receive the ball!"

Audrey realized something as she watched him. She had only ever seen Friendly Mason. She had seen the guy who played along with fake dating and bought his teammates soda.

Captain Mason was another person entirely. He was a wall.

After training, the team was dead on their feet.

Mason walked over to the touchline for his scheduled interview with Audrey. He was drenched in sweat. His knees were covered in green grass stains. He leaned heavily against the metal fence, trying to catch his breath.

Audrey clicked her daisy pen. "Rough session?"

"Coach is tightening the screws," Mason panted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "East State was a warning. The rest of the league is going to study our tactics now."

"Speaking of tactics," Audrey said, looking at her clipboard. "The whole campus is talking about the championship. There are reporters here. How do you handle those expectations?"

She expected him to give a PR answer. She expected a joke.

Instead, Mason actually thought about it. His dark eyes scanned the empty grass of the pitch.

"You don’t," Mason finally said.

Audrey blinked. "You don’t handle them?"

"No," Mason said, his voice dropping into a steady, serious rumble. "You can’t carry everyone’s expectations. If you think about the championship, or the reporters, or the fans, you freeze. You make mistakes."

He looked back at her. "You don’t handle the pressure. You just show up tomorrow and work again. You just play the next ninety minutes."

Audrey didn’t say anything. She just quickly wrote the words down. It was the most honest, unfiltered answer he had ever given her.

A few yards away, Coach Miller was talking to Assistant Coach Davies.

Audrey was packing up her notebook when she heard them. They weren’t whispering.

"Media should stay off the pitch," Coach Davies complained, glaring in the direction of the local bloggers, and then specifically at Audrey. "It’s getting crowded. She’s becoming a distraction to the captain."

Coach Miller crossed his arms. "Ellis helped us beat East State. She caught the decoy."

Coach Davies scoffed. "One good prediction doesn’t make her part of the coaching staff, Miller. She’s an intern. She doesn’t belong in the locker room."

Audrey froze.

Her chest tightened painfully. She kept her head down, aggressively shoving her notebook into her bag.

She pretended she didn’t hear it. But it stung. It stung worse than she expected.

He’s right, a small voice in her head whispered. You’re just a student. You’re just a fake girlfriend. You don’t actually belong here.

Mason, who had been grabbing a towel from the bench, turned around.

He didn’t notice immediately. He wiped his face, threw the towel over his shoulder, and walked back over to Audrey.

But as he got closer, his footsteps slowed.

He noticed she wasn’t asking questions anymore. She wasn’t organizing her statistics. She was just zipping her bag with stiff, rigid movements.

"You done?" Mason asked quietly.

Audrey forced a bright, completely plastic smile onto her face. "Yeah! Got everything I need. Great training today."

Mason stared at her. He recognized that smile. It was the exact same fake smile she used whenever Logan was in the room.

Thirty minutes later, the stadium was completely empty. The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the empty bleachers.

Audrey was sitting alone in the top row of the stands.

She wasn’t crying. She was just staring blankly at her open notebook, feeling incredibly frustrated with herself.

The heavy thud of footsteps echoed on the metal stairs.

Mason walked up the bleachers. He had showered and changed into his gray sweatpants and a hoodie. He didn’t say a word. He just walked along the row and sat down right beside her.

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the wind blow across the empty pitch.

"Sometimes," Audrey finally said, her voice quiet. "I feel like I’m just pretending to belong here."

Mason looked at her.

"Davies?" Mason asked.

Audrey sighed, closing her notebook. "You heard him."

"I heard him," Mason confirmed.

"He isn’t entirely wrong," Audrey admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I’m a second-year intern. A month ago, I didn’t even know what a center-back did. Now I’m writing tactical advice and standing on the touchline like I own the place."

Mason leaned back against the bleacher behind them. He stretched his legs out.

"You know why Coach Miller listens to you?" Mason asked.

Audrey shrugged. "Because I got lucky with a guess?"

"Because you earned it," Mason corrected flatly.

Audrey looked at him.

"Coach Miller has been running this team for fifteen years," Mason said, looking out at the pitch. "He is stubborn. He is mean. And he thinks he knows everything."

Mason turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

"Nobody gives Coach Miller opinions," Mason said quietly. "You made him ask for yours."

Audrey’s breath hitched.

He didn’t give her a generic compliment. He didn’t tell her she was pretty, or smart, or that Davies was just a jerk. He told her she was competent. He told her she earned her space.

Coming from the captain of the team, it meant absolutely everything.

The sky was getting dark as they finally walked out of the stadium together.

The campus paths were quiet. The cold evening air felt refreshing after the heavy tension of the afternoon.

As they walked toward the dorms, Audrey unzipped the small front pocket of her camera bag.

She pulled out a foil-wrapped cereal bar.

Without breaking her stride, and without even looking at him, she held it out.

"Here," Audrey said. "You skipped lunch."

Mason stopped walking.

He looked at the cereal bar.

Then at her.

A tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"How’d you know?" Mason asked, his voice suddenly very soft.

Audrey froze.

Her hand hovered in the air. Her brain frantically scrambled for an excuse.

To be honest, she didn’t know when she’d started noticing.

"...Lucky guess," Audrey lied, her voice cracking slightly.

It wasn’t a guess. She had noticed. Just like he noticed she liked french fries. Just like he noticed when she was holding too many bags.

Mason looked at her for a long, silent moment. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

He didn’t call her out on the lie.

He just reached out and gently took the cereal bar from her fingers.

"Thanks," Mason smiled.

They kept walking side by side under the streetlights. Neither of them said another word about it. They didn’t need to.