Antonio ran to the entrance of the large apartment jumping down the stairs two by two. He passed next to Julia.

"Good morning beautiful!" he shouted petting the tomato plant.

She needed water, he thought sitting on the last stair putting a shoe on.

He was so damn late. His stupid phone, out of battery, had not rang to wake him up. He ran to the kitchen, no time for breakfast, he saw his jacket hanging. No need for it, he looked out of the window to the clear sky, tripping on his bag. He needed that though. He threw his new school bag on his shoulder, grabbing the keys on the counters. Realising he did not have any money for the bus, he grabbed the letter full of cash his father left. No time to pick out how much he actually needed, he'll deal with it later.

Dios mio, Antonio hated morning at least as much as blind referees on a football pitch.

He walked out the door at forty, passing right next to Julia again. She looked at him, and Antonio hesitated a second. Guilt was spreading.

Fuck it.

He needed to leave now, but Julia was going to be thirsty all day. And, thinking about it all day was going to be a torture. He closed the door, stepping back into the corridor. Better to lose ten minutes than a day worth of worrying, right?

He ran back out 5min later.

He could make it.

Maybe.


"Still not here," sighted Francis twisting one shiny blond curl around his finger. "What time is it?"

Gilbert got his phone out. New season, new game, new life. Let's make it perfect! Right? that was the last message Antonio send before going to sleep. Gilbert glared at it once more. "Eight fucking fifty three, we are going to be late on first day," said Gilbert with a smirk drawing on his face. "Exactly like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, and the-"

"I think we got it, wanker. You're disorganised," growled the british student leaning on the wall of the school. "Should we go?"

"What?" said Gilbert startled and maybe a bit offended. "And arrive in time? Please, nothing interesting happens in the first hour anyway."

"Please don't frown, Arthur," chided Francis next to him. "It makes your eyebrows even more scarier."

Gilbert laughed loudly from behind.

"Okay. That's it. I'm going," Arthur said throwing his cigarette on the ground. He got of the brick wall they were leaning on, and left the duet, balancing his messenger bag around his shoulder.

"No, Arthur!" shouted Francis after him. "Come back!" he begged but Arthur only gave him a finger.

"You're never going to get him if you keep insulting him," murmured Gilbert playing on his phone, feet dangling.

"Sorry? Did I hear something, like an advise about love from someone who can't even talk to his crush?"

"Shut up?" shot back Gilbert. Later added, "At least we are not insulting each other."

"That's for sure. You guys are not even talking," smiled Francis looking in the mirror again, rearranging his hair. "Maybe this year?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Maybe…"

"Really, Cheri, you need to get over the Canary Incident."

Gilbert kept his eyes on the floor pushing a little rock around. "Yeah…" Minutes passed and Gilbert did not look up, Francis was lost texting some other girl.

"Amigos!" shouted a voice far away.

"I think he's here." Smiled Francis before being tackled into a hug.


"Late," said the teacher unimpressed. "Like every year."

Gilbert nodded enthusiastically at that. "I live for consistency."

"Theatricality," added Francis.

Antonio elbowed them. "We are really sorry."

"What do you have to say for yourself?" glared Miss Rosario.

"Football?" smiled the three of them.

Antonio never disrespected teachers, but being a bit late was harmless. Plus he did not do it on purpose.

The class room giggled, well, outside from the no-fun front row. Everybody knew they were part of the soccer team and they were always getting away with everything because of training or the golden rule that matches do not stop at end of the allowed time but at the end of an action when the referee blows the final whistle. School bell was nothing to them.

The teacher dismissed them with a wave of hand and that frown adult do when they give in to future generation on a point. 'Whatever, we don't have time for that,' kind of way, 'they won a battle but not the war.'

Antonio followed his friends to the back of the classroom, Francis jumping on the chair behind Arthur. But there was no more empty chairs around them. One of the problem to be late, and Antonio would know about it. At least he watered Julie. He smiled at himself bumping into something.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going Bastard!" shouted someone, grabbing his bag previously stepped on.

Antonio looked down at him. He was new.

He was definitely new or Antonio would have definitely noticed him before. He had such a cute pointy nose, and large honey eyes, if only his hair did not hide them so much. Though, his hair seemed so soft-

"Mr Carriedo?" called the teacher breaking the daydream. "Can you please find a sit?"

Unable to answer he just sat down on the nearest chair, just behind the boy. Another problem for being late was missing out on the names of all the new hot students.

When he turned around to glanced at Gilbert and Francis, he was going to gesture the new student but they were already on it. Francis was transfixed while Gilbert was simply glaring. Antonio looked around him seeing for the first time that havoc had spread around the classroom, as the teacher started mapping out the course on the blackboard.

"He was at the game last Tuesday," whispered furiously Gilbert. "He plays left wing attacker… Best dribbler on the pitch, the little shit," continued Gilbert. "Don't you remember? What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Last week? I was grounded," Antonio remembered as well as the broken door he punched through. Antonio shrugged, grounded from the weekly football game on the Church owned pitch, never was a big issue.

"Maybe he played at another school in the area. Maybe he's here to spy on us…" said Arthur loudly enough to be heard by at least half the classroom. "There is another one too…"

Looking at the other side of the classroom, the Scottish student, Arthur's cousin, had pass his arm above another new student. Jack was hoovering above him with a smirk. The one next to him looked exactly like the one in front of Antonio. For a moment Antonio thought he saw double. Though his hair might have been clearer. Nothing for sure, he was also close to the window.

"And his brother…" whispered the albino with maybe less hatred. "He played too… he's okay."

His brother was smiling and laughing at Jack like they were the new best friends. It did not seem to calm the cute one in front of Antonio. The boy in front started stirring, tapping his foot on the floor. Antonio could have swear seeing smoke coming off the student. He was glaring at Jack.

The teacher finally started on the lesson. Antonio smiled at her and nodded along thinking about how he has to talk to them, how exciting would it be to add them to the team. Did they plan to take part on the football team?

Soon enough the class ended, before Antonio could not do anything, the boy stood up and strolled down the aisle. He started cursing loudly in Italian, and enough in english to make it clear that Jack'd better "keep his dirty hands away from my brother or he will regret it." The whole classroom was staring and the teacher rolled her eyes as his brother pushed him out the room apologising. Miss Rosario glanced at Antonio, clearly asking the acting captain of the team to take care of it.

"Well," sighted Francis, playing with his hair. "What a good start."

"We'll talk to them later," Antonio grinned, he was not leaving the school's premise today without getting at least the cute ones's name.