Page 71 of Dangerous Play

“What the fuck was that?” I stepped up to him, pushing him backward.

“Max,” Maddox warned, pulling me back. “Not worth it. Not now.”

“He fucking kicked him,” I shouted.

“I know,” Maddox said. Dex’s grunts and struggles made me see red even more. “But it’s not your job to make him pay for it. Not here, not like that.”

“Why don’t you listen to your friend.” Ander snickered.

The referee and the medical team arrived, and I approached them.

“This was unacceptable,” I started when the referee lifted a yellow card. “Thank you!”

“That’s for you,” he told me calmly. “I warned you.”

“You’re joking.” I blinked at him in shock. “He was the one who kicked my teammate’s knee out! All I’m trying to do is explain you…”

The referee dug in his pack and picked up another yellow card. A fucking yellow card.

“You are fucking kidding me.” I shook my head, furious.

“One more word, Aarons, and I’m suspending you from the rest of the game.”

“Let’s take a time out,” Maddox told me, grabbing my shoulder, and Liam appeared on my other side guiding me off the pitch.

“Like what the fuck are they thinking?”

“Cool down, son,” Coach Parker said to me.

“When in the history has saying ‘cool down’ to a pissed off kid helped?” Coach McCarthy asked. “Come with me.”

I was too mad to argue, so I followed him to the changing rooms where I dropped onto the wooden bench and tried taking several deep breaths. My entire body trembled with anger.

Sky dug his fingers into my shoulder, forcing me to look up at him. “When I was your age, I felt the same anger raging through me. I was a little piece of shit,” he started, and I doubted hewas ever as hot-headed as I was. “Granted, I didn’t witness what you just did, but also, I was playing professionally, being paid millions.”

I swallowed hard as I met his sincere expression. He was more of a father to me than my own.

“I used to have to play against my biological father, who was a piece of shit. I was always angry and had rage attacks to deal with the emotions until I realized I was just sabotaging myself by letting him have any influence on my mood and game. Soccer is not just a physical game, it’s also mental. Your opponent will say and do anything to get you to shift your focus. Especially Sanchez and the history the two of you share. Whatever you feel is valid, Max. You’re allowed to be angry, to want to punch him for what he did for your teammate and for whatever happened with his ex. All you need to do is take a deep breath and never lose focus of the ball. You’re angry and you want payback. Then win. Getting a reputation of a hotheaded unreliable player will not land you in the Cup final and it will sure as hell not help you get on the National Team. I need you to re-focus your feelings into the game. Make soccer the place where you can get rid of them.”

My face must not have inspired the confidence he hoped for as Coach McCarthy sighed. “What do you do to clear your head?”

“Run.”

“Then run after that ball until all your anger subdues. Run as fast as you can and win this game. That’s all you need to do. Don’t engage, don’t talk. Just run.”

With a deep breath, I nodded. I knew Dex would want us to win, to show them up. “We are down a striker.”

I dropped my face in my hands and kept on breathing, but the anger shaking my body didn’t subdue.

“Max, we need to go back, time’s up. The choice is yours.”

I breathed in for the count of six and exhaled for the same amount. I could do this. I could go out there and ignore everything Ander said and did. All his word vomit over Ivy, my teammates. I could pretend he didn’t exist.

“I already have a yellow card,” I muttered as we approached the corridor leading out to the pitch. It was my first ever yellow card.

“Yeah. It sucks when referees pick on you, but nothing we can do about it. Make sure to not provoke another one or they will force you to sit out the final.”

He didn’t say if we make it. He said when.

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