Chapter 12: The Talk
The scout didn't smile when Sheik approached.
She looked like someone who saw through pretense in a second—and didn't have the patience to pretend otherwise. Clipboard. Sunglasses. Professional energy so sharp it could slice through concrete.
"You're Sheik Jin," she said, not a question.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, voice steadier than he felt.
She looked him over—one glance, head to toe. "You've got good instincts. I liked the pass that led to the second goal."
"Thank you."
"Your first half was a mess."
That hit harder than he expected.
Sheik swallowed. "Yeah. I know."
She arched a brow. "Most players would try to spin that. Blame the weather. Blame the ref. You didn't flinch."
"I've already replayed it in my head like twenty times," he said with a half-laugh. "I overthought everything."
"Why?"
He hesitated. Then answered honestly. "Because I wanted to impress you."
That made her pause.
Then—surprisingly—she chuckled, dry and short.
"At least you're honest," she said, scribbling something down. "Look. You've got raw talent. But that's not what I'm really watching for. I want to see who holds their head when the pressure's on. Most of the time, the game isn't about what your feet do—it's about what your brain doesn't."
Sheik nodded, unsure what to say.
"You'll hear from us in a few weeks," she added, snapping her clipboard shut. "That doesn't mean yes. Doesn't mean no. But you've got something."
And with that, she was gone.
Just like that.
Sheik stood there, blinking.
No dramatic moment. No contract. No hug from the coach. Just… reality.
He turned and walked back toward the bleachers, where Andrea was sitting on the lowest step, swinging her legs slightly like a kid waiting for someone they weren't sure would come.
When she saw him, she stood up. "Well?"
"She said I have something," he said, dropping down beside her. "Not a yes. Not a no."
Andrea bumped her shoulder against his. "That's better than nothing."
"Yeah," he said, letting out a breath. "It is."
For a moment, they just sat there. Close but not quite touching.
Then Andrea asked, quieter, "Do you want it? West Bay?"
He was quiet for a long time.
"I don't know yet," he said.
She nodded like she understood. "That's okay."
And it was. For the first time in days, it really was