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A fter a call with Daniel on Sunday, I decided to give helping out a go. I arrived at the pitch on Monday evening to see a bunch of seven year olds working on drills.

What have I signed up for?

“Beckett, over here!” Daniel called from the sidelines, his voice carrying over the pitch with ease as he waved me over. He looked to be in his early thirties, standing with a relaxed confidence that seemed second nature. He wore the football team's cap, a few unruly hairs poking out from beneath.

I made my way over to him. His welcome was much warmer than anyone else’s since being back. “How’s the ankle?”

“Fucked,” I muttered, not wanting the kids to hear. “Hopefully, I’ll be back on the pitch soon, but that depends on my recovery and when the doctors clear me.”

“The kids will lift your spirits. They’re a good bunch.” He smiled before shouting. “Boys, over here please!” Within seconds, they all ran over to him, curiosity sparkling in their eyes. “This is Beckett Ashmore. He’ll be helpin’ us out until he’s fit enough to return to his league.”

All the kids looked excited, all except for who couldn’t have looked more disappointed if he’d tried. He scrunched up his nose, his top lip going as far as meeting the tip of it.

“Ashmore,” the kid said, “you know you’re not as good as they say or you like to believe, right?” His gaze stayed on mine the entire time he said it. And not an ounce of remorse followed. This kid was a savage.

“Liam, that is enough.” Daniel scolded.

“It’s alright, let him voice his opinions.” I chuckled, which wasn’t appreciated by Liam.

“Liam, pitch, now.” Daniel demanded.

“Yes, coach.” He smiled and it was as if a different kid stood before us. One who didn’t just try to take me down a notch.

“Good lad.”

I handed him a ball before he ran off to boot it full pelt at the open goal. “That kid has potential.” Judging from that one kick alone, I could tell the kid had skills.

After the team was dismissed and practising their drills, I watched Liam. He was one with the ball, moving with confidence and grace. He would have easily given me a run for my money when I was his age.

“Liam, come here for a minute.” When I called him over, he froze for half a second. Then he turned, his jaw already tight, lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t say anything at first, just walked over with a sharpness in his step that made it clear he wasn’t thrilled.

Why does he have so much anger at seven?!

“What?” His words came out clipped and like he wanted nothing to do with me.

“You know, you’re extremely talented. You could go far.” I smiled, but his face didn’t change as he gazed up at me through narrowed emerald eyes.

I crouched down to his level, trying to meet that fiery gaze with something a little softer. “Hey, I’m serious. You’ve got something special. But it takes hard work, too.”

He crossed his arms, his shoulders squared. His brows were furrowed more than I'd ever seen on a young child, which told me he didn't want to hear it. That he wanted to resist. That he'd challenge everything I said. “I don’t care about that stuff. I just want to play, alright?!”

“Playing is great, but think about what you could achieve if you really applied yourself,” I said gently. “Imagine scoring the winning goal in a big game.”

Liam shifted his weight, the flame in his eyes flickering. “I don’t want to be some stupid star. I just like kicking the ball.”

“I started out by just wanting to have fun too.” My smile was nowhere near reciprocated. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m good.” He scoffed, looking away like it was the hardest thing in the world to look me in the eye.

“Wow… Look, I just met you, so I have no idea why you have an issue with me, but if you could pack it in so I can give you some tips and tricks to help your game, that’d be best.”

“Nah, I’m good.” He turned on his boot, giving his back to me.“You’re not even that good at football, so why would I want to take tips from you?” And just like that he stalked off towards his team.

As he rejoined his teammates, I noticed his posture, still a bit rigid, like he was trying to prove something. I wanted to help, but he clearly wasn’t ready to hear it. Maybe I’d just have to wait for him to come around. But then again, I’d probably be gone by that time.

“Hey, Liam!” I called out again, this time louder. He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Just remember, even the best players listen to advice. Don’t shut yourself off from it.”

He hesitated, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes before he resumed his game. I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The kid was all fire and bravado, but underneath, there was potential waiting to be ignited. One way or another, he’d figure it out.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him today.” Daniel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you want me to have a word?”

“Don’t worry about it. He’s all right.”

“Alright, I’m going to take a backseat for this session, are you good to take charge?” He asked.

“I am, let’s see what these boys can do.” I smiled.

I took over the rest of their training session alone. The kids were over the moon when I gave them pointers and small tricks to help them against their opponents.

At first, I kept it simple—basic passing drills, footwork, a few fun one-on-ones—but the energy they gave back was infectious. Their eyes lit up every time I praised a move or corrected a stance. One of the younger ones, Jacob, finally managed a proper turn without losing the ball and looked at me like he’d just scored at Wembley. I couldn’t help it—I grinned, wide and real. It had been a while since I’d felt this useful.

The ache in my ankle throbbed in the background, but it didn’t matter. Every time they listened, improved, laughed—it chipped away at the frustration that had been sitting in my chest since the injury.

“They’ve really taken to you.” Daniel clapped his hand on my back with a smile.

“All but one,” I laughed, referring to attitude-riddled Liam. “In all honesty, though, I’ve loved being here tonight. I think I needed it.”

The boys joined Daniel and I, they looked absolutely spent and ready to go home.

“Right, boys, match on Saturday at eleven. I want you to bring your A game.” Daniel sang in a motivational voice at the end.

“Is he going to be there?” Liam shot a piercing glance in my direction.

“Yeah, I am, mate. Is that going to be a problem for you?” I replied quicker than Daniel could.

“Yeah, it is.” Liam huffed with an eye roll.

“Liam!” Daniel raised his voice from beside me. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not having it, alright?!” Liam couldn’t even get a word out before his coach continued. “You’re benched on Saturday, and I’ll be having a word with your mum.”

“What? Why?!” Liam folded his arms across his chest in a huff—like he did when I chatted with him earlier—but still managed to be alarmed. It was clear he was worried what his mum would say. “All because I don’t want to hear what he has to say?”

“Because he’s here to help you—all of you—and the least you can do is show him some respect.”

“My mum says respect is earned, not given.” The corner of his lip twitched, almost like he wanted to smirk because he was proud of himself, before stomping off to the changing room. I wanted to laugh at how grown up he sounded, but I decided against it. I didn’t want to undermine Daniel, especially not when he wore a scowl and had his hands on his hips like he meant business.

“Looks like I need to give Liam’s mum a call, let her know what’s gone on.” He sighed.

I paused for a second before responding, not knowing if he’d appreciate my further input. “Benching Liam is a little rough though, no?”

“Honestly, he needs to learn that what he said and how he acted towards you wasn’t right. I told him if he wants to redeem himself then he needs to apologise next session.”

“And let me guess, I’m not getting that apology?” I chuckled.

“I doubt it, but we can hope,” he joked.

“Anyway, I’ll be getting off now. I’ll see you Wednesday.” I held up my hand in goodbye and made my way to where Ollie had parked, waiting to drive me home.

I couldn’t wait to get this damn cast off so I could drive.

I placed my crutches on the backseat of Ollie’s Ford Ranger before climbing into the front seat with more difficulty than I’d hoped.

“How was it? All good?” He grinned.

“Yeah, it took my mind off of all the other shit.” I relaxed back in the seat. “What an absolute ball ache it is to get in here though.” I laughed.

“Sorry, mate.” He responded, “Listen, I’m getting a drink in a bit with the guys, do you fancy it?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Nah, I’m going to call it a night. I don’t fancy a repeat of the weekend.”

“Alright, just don’t go back to Spain without coming out at least once more,” he practically begged, but I knew he was just teasing. I wouldn’t be going anywhere with this thing still on my leg and these crutches glued to my hands.

“I won’t.”

But also, I didn’t know if being around Harry and Mike was what I wanted to do either, if I was being honest. They’d hate my guts no matter what I said or did so what was the point in hanging around?