Simon positioned himself in the middle of the goals he had to defend, knees slightly bent, arms bent at the elbows. Although his position was correct he felt like a salad at McDonalds, completely and utterly out of place. The too big clothing didn't help, Simon felt more conspicuous than usual, especially on a field with experienced football players.
"Woo! Simon!" Penny and Howie yelled from the stands.
Simon managed to flash them a smile and a wave, before nervously surveying the beginning of the game. It all began with a coin toss, something Simon had no idea actually began the game. This was between Ryan and one opposition. Ryan called heads and it was tails. And then they were off! The other team had the ball; it barely left their feet as they made their way down the field. Simon braced himself, just in time it seemed, because that was when the ball was passed to Monique. No matter how hard Penny and Howie shouted, the ball could not be retrieved, seemingly glued to Monique's foot. This was until the football was making its way towards Simon's face.
"Bloomin' eyes!" Simon managed to mutter, squinting to follow its path better.
In a half blind panic, Simon resorted to batting the air, and made contact with something solid. The football nestled itself between Simon's feet, Simon picked up the ball amongst his teams cheers. Baz ran up, beaming for the first time that Simon had ever seen.
"What are you waiting for Simon?" Baz's eyes twinkled.
"I don't know what I'm meant to do." Simon admitted, half panicked and half disgruntled.
Baz sighed, "Oh. All you have to do is kick the ball straight. You can do it Simon, kick it straight to Ryan."
Simon nodded, determined.
"Boys," Monique smirked, eyes flashing dangerously, "We don't have time for your little banter."
Simon kicked the ball.
He watched with bated breath as the ball flew through the air, appearing to be moving in slow motion to Simon's eyes.
Much to his surprise, it actually went somewhere close to where he had been hoping (with fingers crossed) that it would go.
Ryan actually managed to get the ball, which was more than Simon had dared to hope.
"Yes, good job Simon!" Penny yelled from the stands.
Simon glanced over, and Howie gave him a thumbs up.
With his confidence boosted, Simon turned his attention back to the game.
Ryan had managed to evade some of the defenders as he ran down the pitch toward the other end. He passed to Baz who headed for the goals.
Looking at Baz, Simon could see his passion for the game. Baz was born to be on a football pitch, to play football, and that is why it was such a shame that he couldn't play anymore. Simon felt a pang of sympathy for Baz.
In that moment, though, it didn't matter. Baz was where he wanted to be, playing the game that he loved. He could do no wrong, as he weaved around defenders until he was just facing the goalie. To Simon's awestruck eyes, Baz's kick looked perfect as it arced toward the goal. It looked good, like it was going in, until the goalkeeper jumped out of nowhere and managed to snatch the ball out of the air.
"No," Penny and Howie groaned from the sidelines.
Simon groaned, he knew the block of the other goalie meant that he had to block the other ball that was bound to come his way. He wasn't disappointed. The ball was kicked cleanly to the teams mid fielder and then onto Monique, despite the attempts of the defenders. Monique met Simon's gaze, she was close enough for him to see the strain in her muscles, definitely near enough for him to see the confident smirk she shot his way. She was concentrating so hard on the ball and goals that Simon could feel his instinctual need to duck almost take over. This was before a defender managed to slide the ball out from between her feet, passing it with a clean swift kick back to Ryan.
"You 'right?" he called over to Simon.
"Yep," Simon gulped in air; he'd forgotten how to breathe.
There were five minutes left, and Simon was exhausted. This was more due to nerves, rather than the actual physical exhaustion. Baz though, was in his element, he'd been smiling more than Simon had ever seen him. Also, Simon had seen Monique become more and more focussed onto him, determined to prove herself the better forward. It could have been a draw, this could probably be the best outcome, apart from the fact that Baz. Had. The. Ball. His skill was showing as he avoided defenders, ignoring frantic attempts at the ball, claiming his right to the title of the greatest forward Watford had ever seen. Monique appeared beside him.
"Something's wrong." Simon whispered.
Penny and Howie were standing in the stands; Penny seeing Simon watching shook her head deliberately, confirming what Simon had figured. Like always at Watford, something was happening behind the scenes. There was a flash of light and then the players were piled on top of each other, the rest of the teams stopped moving, frozen in their positions, a strange silence blanketing them. Simon dismissed his post at the goals and sprinted down the pitch, reaching the mass of people.
Baz sat on the ground where he had fallen when he was tripped, while Ryan was standing nearby, yelling at Monique, who everyone knew had caused Baz to fall.
"Why would you even do that, Monique?" Ryan was yelling, "It's just a scratch match, does it really mean that much to you that you would stoop to cheating in order to win?"
"And what exactly did I do, Ryan?" Monique asked calmly, perfectly composed.
"Don't even try that with me Monique, otherwise you'll be off the team," Ryan replied tiredly.
"Fine," Monique pouted, "I know when it's time to bow out graciously, unlike some people." With a last glare towards Baz, she turned on her heel and left.
"Are you alright mate?" Ryan asked Baz, giving him a hand off of the ground.
"I'm perfectly fine," Baz replied, "but a bit annoyed that she stopped me from scoring."
"It's okay," Ryan said with a grin, "by cheating, she automatically made her team forfeit, so we win by default."
"Still, it would have been nice to beat her fair and square, and see that smug look wiped off of her face," Baz said with a smirk.
"You all did really well!" Howie and Penny had made their way down from the stands, "good job at blocking the goals, Simon," Penny continued, "You didn't give in to you instinct to duck, I'm proud of you." She smiled at Simon.
"Thanks," Simon panted, he'd never felt so worn out.
A hand clasped his shoulder, Simon turned to find the smiling face and cool grey eyes that belonged to Ryan.
"So who are your friends?"
Penny and Howie hurried to introduce themselves, holding a captivating conversation with the Irish midfielder. Simon wandered over to where Baz was looming in the shadows of the stands.
"What'd you think?" Baz asked, glancing down at Simon.
"'Bout what?"
Baz smirked, "the game, Monique, Ryan, football."
Simon thought for a bit.
"Baz, I think I can only answer those questions when I have had a shower and my heart rate has slowed to a normal pace."
Baz laughed heartily, Simon marvelled at his ability to breathe normally straight after exercising.
"Okay Simon, I'll walk you back to our room."
The two boys walked away from their friends, away from the game and the reality of rain clouds forming above their heads.
Freshly showered and dressed, once again, in his own clothes Simon flopped on his bed and closed his eyes, ignoring Baz's figure sitting at his desk.
"Well?"
Simon turned his head, disturbing his hair and opening his eyes.
"Well what?"
"What are your opinions?" Baz seemed to continue doing his work, but his head was tilted towards Simon.
"Oh, um, what was I giving my opinions on, again?" Simon asked, confused.
"The game, Monique, Ryan, and football," Baz repeated.
"The game was alright, I don't think I'd be able to do it very often, I don't particularly like balls flying for my head, you're lucky I didn't duck at all, because that's my first reaction when someone kicks a ball at me."
"Well thanks for not giving in to that instinct then…."
"I don't like Monique, Ryan seemed nice, and I don't really think that football is the game for me, I think I'll leave it to you." Simon finished.
"And I'll leave the saving people to you," Baz smiled at Simon. "Thank you for coming out and playing, though, even though it interrupted your beauty sleep."
"Shut up," Simon smiled at Baz, "I was happy to do it, even though it stressed me out, learning a new sport in one day."
"Yeah, sorry about that, I could probably have come up with a better way for you to meet my friends, but I couldn't resist getting you to play football." Baz smirked, "It was almost as funny as I had thought it would be, the look on your face when the ball came anywhere near you was priceless. You looked terrified!"
"Thanks a lot Baz," Simon replied, "sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you!"
"Nah," Baz smirked, "the question is why should I put up with you?"
There was a silence, where Simon began considering what he wanted to say next.
"So what did Ryan think of me?" He couldn't help asking.
"He doesn't know why I wanted you to play so badly, but he knows everything else."
A silence asked the question that Simon couldn't.
"We're family friends, our families made us what we are." Baz smirked.
"I didn't have that," Simon murmured suddenly, dead serious, "I was the only one who could make myself at the orphanage."
There was a silence. Baz strove to change the subject.
"Do you know, that when we were kids, they'd sing us songs about you?"
"They did not," Simon said, throwing an apple at Baz.
Baz caught it and took a bite. "They did," he said with his mouth full. "Comes, he comes, the Mage's Heir, with blade of fire and golden hair."
Baz had a steady, warm singing voice.
"How did they know I was coming?" Simon muttered. "I didn't even know I was coming."
"Comes, he comes, the Mage's Heir,
And should evil meet him there,
The blood will flow, the world will know,
Our just and handsome,
Blue-eyed, winsome,
Lovely, blushing Mage's Heir."
"You made that last part up," Simon said, feeling his cheeks burn.
Baz laughed and took another bite. "I made that last part up."