It had been a week since James and Lily's previous encounter, and they'd met around three times. Twice planned, and one coincidentally outside the apartment complex.

James would definitely consider the two of them as friends. Lily wasn't actually as annoyed and sarcastic as she had seemed to be for a while. She was funny, and she really was a nice person, deep down.

Dandy marched into his room at that moment, waving his phone around in the air like a lunatic.

"What's your problem?" James groaned.

"Justin Bieber's new single came out! It's at the top of the charts. It's such a bop!" He played an upbeat song and James rolled his eyes as Dandy started singing along.

"Can you go do that in your own room? Why'd you have to come here?"

"Oh, come on," he whined. "Lemme hang."

"No way. You have to leave if you're going to play music."

"What's wrong with music?"

"Are you turning it off or am I going to kick you out?!"

Dandy huffed. "Okay, okay. Jeez." He turned off the music and started doing something else. James flopped on his bed, pulling out his own phone. The two of them sat in silence for a while, James texting one of his friends and Dandy doing who-knew-what, when Dandy broke the silence.

"OMG! JAMES! JAMES! JAMES!"

"What's it now? If it's about Bieber's single again, I swear-"

"No, not that! Although you should listen to that-"

"Dandy."

"Your results are coming out tonight! For the team."

James sat up straight. "What? For the soccer team?"

The soccer practices had definitely started to get ruthless and much harder. The selection officers told James personally that his fight with Reed was on his record, but wouldn't affect his chances unless he got into another spat. But if he got into another major issue, he was in trouble.

James had behaved extremely well since then, and he'd been playing exceedingly well. With all the new moves he was practicing every day, he was fairly confident he'd make the team.

"Yes, for the team!"

"What time tonight? Where did you hear that?" James grabbed Dandy's phone and saw the emails that had been sent to him (because he was the manager, though he didn't act like one). "No way. Oh my gosh."

"You'll do awesome!" Dandy cried encouragingly. Then he paused. "Is your new girlfriend gonna be rooting you on? Does she know about this?"

"Huh? My new who?"

"Lily Evans. Don't lie. You guys have met over ten times! You and her were alone in your apartment once. That kinda counts as a date, you know."

"No it doesn't. You and I are in my apartment alone. Does that mean I'm dating you?"

"Naw, but… I'm your manager."

"Exactly. Lily's my neighbor."

"Ooh, you call her Lily?"

"I call you Dandy, you idiot!"

"Yes, but you only met her, like, two weeks ago."

James raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. We're friends."

"Are you sure? Nothing more?"

"Dandy, you're such an idiot," groaned James. "She doesn't even know I'm a soccer player."

Dandy's mouth dropped open. "Still? Dude! You can't hide it from her forever."

"I know, I know." James cringed just thinking about it.

The truth of the matter was that he did feel kind of bad for hiding it from her. He was fooling her. Every moment more of him not telling her about anything was just making the situation worse. At some point she would have to figure out.

What would she think of him then?

But other than that… Whenever he hung out with her, the burden of being a player loosened. He wasn't treated differently around her. He could feel like an everyday person, a normal, average dude.

"James?" asked Dandy.

"I do feel bad about it," he mumbled. "But what do I do? I don't want her to like me because I'm a soccer player. I don't want her to just be a fangirl. I don't want her to treat me differently. I like her treating me with some attitude, you know? It reminds me that I'm not perfect. People can't just treat me like some kind of god, just because I play soccer."

"Seriously? You should be accepting the fame!"

"The fame, yes, but not the whole 'putting-me-above-others' kind of thing. I need a balance. And, well… when she figures out… I don't know. I don't want to find her reaction. It's gone on too long for me to tell her."

"What are you saying?! You're going to keep on hiding it from her?"

"I don't know, Dandy. Stop bugging me. I'm already so nervous."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. You're going to do awesome."

"Oh yeah?" he asked.

"Yes. Definitely. You know why? Because you take your job seriously. It's your passion. It's your life. You enjoy what you do and you put in your best effort. Which is a heck of a lot. You will make the team."

James looked at him in surprise. Since when had Dandy become so deep? "Have you been watching sappy movies again? There's no way you created that dialogue.""

"Ugh. How did you know? But yes, I copied the dialogue from a movie I watched last night on Netflix. It's good. You should watch it, James!"

"You're weird," muttered James. "But seriously. I'm nervous."

"You should take your mind off things for a while. How about you go catch up with some friends? Charlie? Arnold?"

"I am not meeting Arnold today. He's part of the team. I don't want to think about the soccer results for a while."

"You're picky. Charlie? What about that other dude? With the beard?"

"Huh? Joe?"

"Yep!"

"He moved to Seattle ages ago, you idiot. And Charlie's just gonna ask me about the team. I need to move my mind off that."

Dandy cackled. "Fine. So go hang out with the red-head."

"Lily."

"Yeah, yeah. You know who I mean. She doesn't even know you're a soccer player. So she can't bring it up."

"I…"

"Stop wiggling your way out of this one."

James groaned. Dandy could be so annoying at times. "Okay, fine." He pulled out his phone and texted Lily.

Hey

Her response came back in seconds.

L: Hi

"What did she say?" Dandy wondered.

"Go away."

"Can I listen to Justin's new single?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Do whatever you want. Leave me alone."

"Good idea!" Dandy marched away.

Can we meet up?

James knew it was cringy. He didn't care, though. The message was clear.

L: Yea sure

L: Ur place or mine?

James grinned. She was a very no-nonsense kind of person.

How about yours?

She quickly typed back a one-word response.

L: Sure

James smiled and went over to his closet, pulling on a long, peach/extremely light red, full-sleeved shirt and faded blue jeans. With rips at the knee, of course. He pulled on some light brown boots and went over to Lily's, ringing her doorbell.

She opened it.

"Hey," she greeted him. "Come in."

James stepped inside her apartment room, looking around. He'd never been to her place before. The two times they'd met, once had been at his house and once had just been at some kind of park.

"Nice place," he told her.

She smiled. "Thanks."

He looked at her. She was wearing a soft purple turtleneck and black tights. Her red hair was tied up into a floppy bun, and her green eyes were sparkling out at him. They really spoke.

Then, James saw her puppy. He was a little Yorkshire Terrier with white fur and beady black eyes.

"Is that Buddy?"

Lily followed her gaze. "Yeah, that's my puppy. You want to pet him?"

"Sure."

Lily walked over and scooped him up in her arms. James walked over to her and stroked the puppy's back. He was soft. Buddy jumped into his arms and James laughed.

"Wow," Lily noted. "He really likes you. He usually doesn't… show affection for people like that."

"Yeah, well." James laughed. "People know by now that everyone loves me." He winked, and Lily rolled her eyes.

"You should scratch him behind the ears. He loves it when people do that."

"Doesn't that hurt?"

"Of course not."

"Well, hate to break it to you, but I'm not knowledgeable when it comes to pets," James grumbled. "How do I do it?"

Lily laughed and took James's hand, guiding it to behind the puppy's ears and gently rubbing at it with his fingers. Her hands were extremely soft. And cold. But mainly soft. H

"There you go," she said, dropping his hand. He blinked once, and then put down Buddy. He crawled back into his little area. "Wow. You really connected to him."

James laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did."

She watched him closely, something in her expression making him uneasy. "Are you okay, James?"

"Huh?" He tilted his head to the side. "Yeah, why?"

"You look kind of… I don't know, stressed."

How the heck did she know this?! "Do I?"

"It's kind of obvious. Is everything all right?"

"Yep." He could tell she didn't believe it. "Nothing much. Just stress at, um, work."

"Oh. You work as a stock broker, right?" she asked. The concern, care, and just genuine-ness in her voice dumped extra guilt on him. She actually believed. She actually cared.

Why was he lying to her like this?

"Y-Yeah," he answered. "Just, um, some stocks went down, and uh… just… clients have been kinda angry and stuff. I don't know how I'm going to answer to them."

There was a pause.

"James," started Lily, so much care in her voice he thought he was going to break, "I don't know everything. I don't know how your job works, but I know you. You're a good person. Whatever's going on… you'll do great. You'll succeed in whatever you put your heart in. I know you can do it. I have faith in you. I know whatever happened isn't your fault. Whatever you want to happen will happen. If you put your mind to something, you can do it. I just know it, James." She reached out and gave his hand a little squeeze. A lump formed in his throat, and he almost felt like crying.

"Thank you," he whispered, clutching onto her hand like it was his lifeline. "Thank you so much."

James had reached the soccer building. It was the evening, and he'd skipped dinner. His nerves were giving him too hard a time.

"Hey, James!" called Arnold. "Have you seen the list yet?"

James stopped as Arnold jogged up to him. "No, I'm just going there now."

"Same! Good luck, pal."

"Yeah. Good luck," mumbled James.

"Aw, come on, don't be stressed. Just the other day you were flaunting off how… not stressed and confident you were!"

"I wasn't flaunting," grumbled James.

"Yes, yes. Come on."

The two of them walked into the building. James looked over and saw Reed sitting on one of the chairs, smiling smugly. James gulped, something in his expression warning James that this was not going to go well.

"Ignore him," muttered Arnold. "Keep going."

James took a deep breath and turned away, walking on to the paper with the names on it. It was taped up to the wall.

Daniel Williams

Ben Mount

Harvey Fitz

Louis Alarie

Dex Miller

Arnold Smith-

Wait, what?

"I made it!" exclaimed Arnold, jumping up and throwing his hands together. "Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! I made the team!"

"Congrats," James told him. He genuinely meant it.

But where was his name? He kept reading nervously.

Mason Brown

Logan Martinez

Oliver Wilson

Kurt Noah

Reed Johnson

His name wasn't on the list.

James's eyes widened and staggered backwards.

He wasn't on the list.

He wasn't on the list.

He wasn't on the list.

Arnold tugged at his shoulder and said something, but James couldn't hear it. Mason came over as well, patting his arm and saying something. His eyes sparkled with pity. Another guy came over too, ruffling James's hair and congratulating him. But James still couldn't hear it. His eyes were stuck on the list. He hadn't made the substitutes list either. He wasn't going to be on the team.

How was this possible? How had Arnold beat him? Arnold was nowhere near being a better player. James had a better record. James had an equal sportsmanship level of him. The selectors themselves had said his spat wouldn't matter.

He sat on the chair there for what seemed like eternity, thinking about everything. Someone tapped Arnold on the shoulder and so he had to go. He said something to James that James blocked out. Mason had left. The other guy had left. Everyone trying to comfort him had left.

And then that smug face of Reed flashed in his mind again.

That was it.

Fury bubbled up inside of James. Because he knew that the spot on the team was his. He had outperformed everybody else.

He should have made the team.

He peeked through the crack on the side of the door and saw that Reed was inside, talking.

"-just saw the list. It's a pity that James didn't make it in, but then again… I know it was a hard decision," Reed was saying. James frowned and inched closer, trying to see what was going on.

"It was," agreed the selector. "He is a phenomenal player, no doubts about it. Are you sure that what you said is true? Do you have some sort of… proof?"

"Yes. The players themselves have actually expressed some of their feelings about it to me."

"Have they?"

Reed turned to somebody else in the room. "Haven't you?"

James squinted and his eyes widened upon seeing who was inside. It was Arnold.

He stumbled backwards, putting his hand on his chest, trying to breath heavily. What the heck was Arnold doing in there? Was he part of this scheme too?

"Yes," Arnold said in a blank voice, as if he was reading from a teleprompter. "James has bullied me many times before. He boasts about how he is better than me. He has feuds with many of the other players as well. I do not… think… he is right for this team."

James blinked, and then he fell to the ground, feeling hollow and empty inside. It was Arnold. Arnold, his friend who'd he always encouraged. Arnold, who was undoubtedly not the best player and yet James still hung out with him, encouraged him, cheered him on.

Arnold, who'd betrayed him in the back.

"You see," Reed said, turning back to the selector. "I like the team how it is. The team will be much better off without James. So, this team's done, then?"

"Not quite," answered the selector slowly. "The team isn't finalized yet."

An expression of murder flashed on Reed's face, and then it disappeared. "Why not?" he asked calmly.

"Well, we need it to go through the final stages. FIFA is a big deal, you know. We need to make sure we've chosen the best people for the team. So there are possibilities of changes."

"Fine by me," Reed replied. "But James isn't in, right?"

"He may be. We'll-"

"WHAT?! But I just told you that he has a terrible mood, that he's very violent, and that all the players of the team loathe him!"

"Yes, but there might be another truth to that."

"He got in a fight with me, sir…"

"You got into a fight with him." The selector sighed. "I'm not saying he will make the team. There is a low possibility that he will make the team, but a high possibility that we will trade out some other players for other players."

Reed's upper lip curled. "Okay, then. I'm good with that. Come on, Arnold. Let's go."

James quickly got off the floor and managed to duck into a small closet just as the door opened and Reed and Arnold exited.

"Thank you," muttered Reed. "And you'd better not tell a soul about this."

"I-I won't," replied Arnold in a squeak.

Reed patted his shoulder. "Good. I'm going home. Time for a victory party. Celebrating that I'm on the team…" His smile turned vicious.

"And that James is not."

A/N: Ouch, Reed. And I know, I know, you guys like Arnold. There's a lot left to go, though! What are your thoughts on all these soccer dudes?

As for Lily. Will James tell her, will she figure out on her own, will someone else tell her... dun dun dunnn! You'll have to wait till next chapter to find out!

Virtual pizza for everyone who's reviewed or favorited or followed! :))