He doesn’t answer. He just gives me a non-committal shrug, eyes fixed on his cleats.
“You know,” I offer, trying the humble approach, “I used to be rubbish at soccer when I was your age. I was a terrible player before I started practicing really hard.”
That gets him. He turns his head, his dark eyes narrowing with a sharp, discerning intelligence. “Well, I’m not terrible. I’m actually the best in my league.”
I blink, taken aback by the sheer confidence. I nod slowly. “Fair enough. Forgive me for assuming.”
Thwack.
A ball clips the back of my head, sending a jolt of pain straight down to my neck.
“Sorry!” a voice pipes up from the field. I grab the ball, spinning it in my hands before tossing it back with a flick.
“Eyes on the target, team!” I call out.
Beside me, the boy lets out a quiet, dry chuckle.
“Glad you find my suffering amusing, chap. What’s your name?”
“Manny.”
“Hi, Manny. I’m Luca—”
“Luca Chidubem. I know who you are,” he says simply, as if the fact were as mundane as the weather.
This kid is a tough nut to crack. Usually, I’m the one children are tripping over themselves to meet, but Manny looks like he’s waiting for me to say something actually worth his time.
“Do you like the game, Manny? Soccer, I mean.” It’s a basic question, but I’m genuinely curious about what’s going on in that head of his.
“I do,” he says, finally looking out at the field. “But there was something else I wanted to do today. My dad said I made a commitment to soccer, though, so I have to be here.”
“Your dad doesn't like you breaking your word, eh?” I ask. It reminds me of my own father.
“He says it’s the same as breaking a promise. And my mom gets really mad when I break a promise.”
“My mum is the same way. But she’s probably not mad. I’m sure she’s just disappointed.”
He looks at me with a look of profound skepticism. “That’s what she says, too. But disappointed and mad look exactly the same coming from her.”
I can’t help but smile.
Thwack.
“Shit!” I hiss as another ball nails me in the exact same spot.
Manny laughs again. “You said shit.”
“You said it, too, kid. Don’t tell your parents on me and I won’t tell them on you. Deal?”
After I get done bribing the kid, I whirl around, clutching the back of my skull. “For crying out loud, Croix! Seriously?”
Croix just holds his hands up, a look of faux-innocence plastered on his face. “They’re kids, Captain! I’m trying to coach them, but I can only account for so much tiny-human error!”
I check my watch and realize it’s time for the next phase of the event. I decide to take the lead, pushing off the bench with a grunt I try to disguise as a cough.
As gracefully as I can, I make my way over to where Croix is standing. To my surprise, Manny doesn't stay on the bench. He follows me, a silent, pint-sized shadow.
“Everyone, take a knee!” I command.
