The practice field hummed with activity as Scott and Stiles arrived, their faces flushed from the short sprint. Stiles huffed, trying to catch his breath, and glared mockingly at Scott.
"You know," Stiles began, gesturing to the field, "if you actually get off the bench, who am I supposed to talk to during games? I'll be the lonely guy, talking to myself like a weirdo."
Scott shot him a determined look. "I can't keep sitting out, Stiles. My whole life has been sitting on the sidelines. I have to do this. I'm making first line this year."
Stiles sighed dramatically. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you when I become the next town pariah because my best friend abandoned me for glory."
Scott only rolled his eyes and jogged toward the players gathering near the coach.
Meanwhile, Allison and Lydia strolled to find seats in the stands. Scott noticed Allison immediately. She seemed to light up the dull gray afternoon, her laughter reaching him like a melody carried on the breeze. Their eyes met again, and she smiled, a small but sincere expression that made Scott's heart skip.
His reverie was interrupted by Coach Bobby Finstock, who called out, "McCall! Get over here!"
Scott hesitated, pointing to himself as if to confirm he was the one being addressed.
"Yes, you! Catch this!" the coach barked, tossing a goalie's stick and helmet toward him. Scott barely managed to catch them before they hit the ground.
"Guess what, McCall? You're playing goal today. Don't worry, it's just to boost everyone else's confidence. Let's see how many they can score on you!" Coach Finstock grinned wickedly before turning his attention to the other players.
Scott donned the gear and moved to his position. His nerves buzzed as he adjusted the helmet, but a small smile tugged at his lips when he caught Allison glancing his way.
In the stands, Allison leaned toward Lydia. "Who's he?"
Lydia shrugged. "No idea. He's probably a nobody."
Scott's ears twitched, and to his shock, he heard their conversation as clearly as if they were standing next to him.
"Why do you care who he is?" Lydia added, her tone teasing.
Allison hesitated, her cheeks coloring slightly. "He's in my English class," she admitted.
Before Scott could process the strange clarity of their voices, the shrill sound of a whistle split the air. The noise rang painfully in his ears, louder than it should have been. He winced, clutching his helmet as he tried to block out the piercing sound.
While Scott struggled, one of the players took advantage of his distraction and launched the ball toward the goal. The impact against his helmet echoed like a thunderclap in his ears, and he stumbled backward, falling to the ground.
Laughter erupted around him, sharp and biting.
"Great save, McCall!" Jackson Whittemore called sarcastically, smirking as he led the jeers.
Scott clenched his jaw, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He pushed himself up, shaking off the embarrassment.
The next ball came flying toward him, and this time, Scott moved instinctively. Time seemed to slow as his eyes tracked the ball's trajectory. With a swift motion, he caught it cleanly, his stick snapping shut around the speeding projectile.
The field fell silent for a moment before Stiles leaped to his feet on the sidelines, cheering. "That's my boy!"
Scott didn't have time to celebrate. Another ball was already coming his way. Again, time seemed to stretch, giving him ample opportunity to adjust and intercept it.
Three more attempts followed in quick succession, and Scott stopped all of them, each save more impressive than the last.
In the stands, Allison watched intently, leaning forward with interest. "He's good," she murmured.
Lydia crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "Lucky streak," she said dismissively, but even she couldn't deny the growing energy around Scott.
Jackson, however, wasn't impressed. He stormed to the front of the line, his jaw tight with irritation. Taking a running start, he hurled the ball toward the goal with all his strength.
Scott's heightened senses kicked in once more. The world seemed to slow as he focused on the ball. He moved swiftly, intercepting it with precision. The crowd erupted in cheers, Stiles practically bouncing with excitement on the sidelines.
Lydia, caught up in the moment, clapped enthusiastically. Jackson's eyes flicked to her, his jaw tightening further as he noted her reaction.