Frederick Jones had never longed for a traditional family. From a young age he had known that he would much rather pursue his studies than a romantic relationship. His parents had assured him that he would grow into it, and that he was just a late bloomer. By the time he was in college, he knew that he would never be romantically interested in anybody, and he was fine with that.
He slowly came to realize that while a romantic partner wasn't something he wanted, he really did want to have kids.
This realization came in phases. When some of his acquaintances in college started having kids themselves, and needed somebody to watch the child so they could go to class or have some quiet time, Frederick eventually got roped into it, and he enjoyed it.
He was incredibly awkward around children, and he felt like everything he did was wrong, but holding a child in his arms felt right in ways that he couldn't begin to explain. Those days of babysitting led to him working at the campus daycare for some extra cash, and then he took a few child care classes for some extra credits.
The next semester, he tried a child education class, and things started to click into place. Up to that point he'd just been majoring in history, not because he wanted to make a career of it, but because he considered it a fascinating subject. Frederick switched his major to secondary education, keeping history as his minor.
Frederick eventually came to accept that he liked kids, but he didn't know if he would make a good parent. He knew that he was emotionally distant at best. He thought it could be good for children to be exposed to people who struggled to express their emotions, as it could teach them nuance and empathy, but it was one thing to be a teacher and a mentor, and another to be their sole guardian..
Maybe someday he would look into adoption, but not for some time. Instead he got a job as the history teacher at the Crystal Cove middle school. It was a fulfilling enough career, but he still felt like he was missing something.
Frederick still had work to do in the summer, to prep for the new school year and such, but he definitely wasn't as busy as he was during the rest of the year. When an old friend from college asked if he would be the assistant coach for the Crystal Cove youth soccer program, Frederick found himself agreeing. At least he would have something to do.
Frederick only knew the basics about soccer, but that was more than enough. The program was aimed towards kids between the ages of five and twelve, and Frederick would be helping his friend with the youngest children. At that age the extent of their coaching would be to dry tears, remind the kids which direction to run, and that they needed to kick the ball instead of throw it.
Frederick went to the community park. He was early, but he already saw kids running around and playing with soccer balls. Parents and older siblings were to the side, some with coffee and some with a book to occupy them as the children played. A few parents were talking to Frederick's friend, William. What really caught his attention though was a woman pulling her child by the hand. She was walking just a little too fast for him to keep up, and from the way this kid was crying it was clear he would rather be anywhere else.
The woman stopped and knelt to be closer to his height. She said something, obviously trying to comfort him, but the boy wouldn't calm down. He cried and tried to hug her, but she stood up, gently pushed him away, and then quickly walked back to the parking lot, leaving the boy alone.
Frederick frowned and approached the boy. He'd seen kids who didn't want to be away from their parents. He'd had to stop a number of kids from running off after their parents after being dropped off for daycare. This kid wasn't running after his mother now, but Frederick wouldn't be surprised if he did, and he didn't want the boy to run into the parking lot. He could get himself hurt.
"Hey." Frederick said. The boy jumped and looked at him in alarm. "Do you want to play with the other kids? They look like they're having fun."
"...No." The boy said. "I wanna go home, but Mommy said I need to stay here."
"Do you not want to play soccer?" Frederick asked. The boy's face got scrunched up and he fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
"I don't know how." The boy said.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Frederick asked. The boy looked at him curiously. "Neither do I."
"Really?" The boy looked like the secret of the universe had just been revealed to him. "But you're a grown-up. Daddy says grown-ups know everything."
"Well, we certainly know a lot." Frederick said. He didn't agree with the sentiment of telling children that the adults in their lives were infallible, but it wasn't his place to disagree with the boy's father in front of him. "Do you know how we learn more though?"
The boy pouted and thought really hard, but he seemed stumped. Frederick gave him a moment, and when no response was given he continued. "We try new things, and we learn as we go." He held a hand out to the boy. "Why don't we learn together?"
The boy stared at him for a long moment before he gave him a shy smile and took his hand. Frederick led him to the gathering group of children. Practice was about to start.
William addressed the parents, saying a few words about what he expected from practices and games. Frederick didn't pay a lot of attention. He was too busy thinking about the boy still holding tightly to his hand, and the fact that he was the only one here without a parent or guardian.
Frederick tried to not judge too harshly. A lot of people had very busy lives, and it wasn't unusual for very loving parents to be absent more often than they wanted. The boy's mother, or whoever she was, had clearly been in a hurry. Frederick would feel a lot better about this though if she had stayed for another minute or two to talk to him or William, just to make sure that the kid was in good hands.
Soon the kids were all running onto the field. They were put into pairs, and right now they were just supposed to practice kicking the ball back and forth between them. William wanted the kids to work on kicking, aiming, and, most importantly, not being afraid of the ball. There were an uneven number of kids, and the boy at Frederick's side seemed too shy to look for a partner, so he was left on his own. As the assistant coach, Frederick paired with him while William went from pair to pair, giving advice as he went.
"It looks like we're stuck with each other a little longer." The man grabbed a soccer ball and held it out to the boy, who didn't take it. He just looked at the ball. "I'm Fred Jones."
The kid's head snapped up, and there was a spark in his eyes. "Fred? That's my name! I'm Fred!"
"Is that so?" Frederick smiled. "I guess we have something in common." This was why he sometimes preferred the company of children to adults. It always seemed impossible to find common ground with adults. Kids, even shy kids, could find the smallest similarity, and that was all they needed to decide that someone was worthy of being a friend.
"So, Fred, let's try to kick the ball." Frederick took a few steps back so they could get to kicking. He frowned slightly when Fred followed just inches behind him. "We need a little space between us, remember?" Frederick gestured to the other kids. "See? You need to leave room for the ball to travel."
"Oh." Fred nodded. This time when Frederick backed up, Fred stayed where he was. Frederick put the ball on the ground and gently and slowly kicked it towards Fred. The boy bent down and picked it up, only to promptly drop it. He tried again, and though his grip was better this time, it looked slightly unnatural and Frederick couldn't figure out why.
"You need to kick it." Frederick said. Fred blinked and looked around at the other kids.
"Oh." He put the ball down, spent a long minute centering it right in front of him. He kicked it, but instead of the ball going forward, it veered hard to the left instead. Frederick retrieved the ball.
"Try again." He rolled it towards the boy. Fred prepped himself, swung his foot forward, and it went to the side again. That was how the next ten minutes went. Frederick tried to correct Fred's form, telling him what part of his foot to kick with, and what part of the ball to aim for. No improvements were made.
"I don't think I'm good at this game." Fred said. His body language showed how tense and upset he was, but it didn't come out in his voice. He just sounded like he was stating a fact.
"I think very few children are actually good at sports." Frederick said bluntly. Maybe this wasn't something he was supposed to say to a kid, but Frederick had never been very good at tact. Fortunately, Fred didn't seem discouraged by his words. "The point is to have fun."
"But I'm not." Fred said plainly. He looked around at the other kids. "Everybody else is." Frederick didn't know how to respond to that. He remembered feeling the same frustrating confusion when he'd done wrestling. He hadn't been drawn to sports, but his mother had always dreamed of having an athletic child. Frederick had already been letting her down because he wasn't settling down and having a family. He hadn't wanted to disappoint her even more.
Frederick was saved from having to come up with a plain reassurance. William had the kids gather to work on the next exercise. He would place the ball on the field and have the kids one by one run up to the ball and kick it.
Most of the kids were able to do just that, though their aim needed more than a little work. Eventually it was Fred's turn. He ran right up to the ball. When he went to kick the ball he somehow fumbled over his feet and stepped on the ball.
Fred tripped and fell to the ground as the ball rolled out from under his feet. A number of kids laughed. Frederick whipped his head around and glared in disapproval at them, not saying a word. His gaze was probably more stern than was deserving for such young children, but he didn't hold back, and he didn't feel guilty about it. The little kids looked upset and unnerved, but they stopped laughing.
Satisfied, Frederick went to Fred's side and helped him back to his feet. Fred's eyes were wet, but other than that his expression was practically emotionless.
"Are you okay?" Frederick asked.
Fred just blinked. "I want to go home."
Frederick took Fred's hand. "Why don't we just sit down for a few minutes and have a snack? Then we'll see how you're feeling." He knew that kids could handle far more than they thought they could, but he didn't want to completely overwhelm Fred, and it was clear he'd been having a hard practice.
"I don't want a snack." Fred said, even as he followed Frederick to the other side of the field where William had crackers and juice boxes for the kids. "I want to go home."
Frederick wished one of Fred's parents were here. They would probably be able to calm him more than Frederick could. They'd likely even know what to say to convince him to give it another try.
"Do you want me to call your mother?" Frederick asked.
"You can't." Fred said. He sounded far too resigned for such a young child. "She's at school."
"Your mother's still in school?" Frederick wasn't judging, but he was a little confused. Most adults in their mid-twenties, as she had seemed to be, were done with school at least for a bit.
Fred nodded. "Mommy and Daddy are going to be doctors. They have to do a lot of school."
"I would imagine so." Frederick said. Now he understood why she had seemed in such a hurry. "Is your dad home?"
"No." Fred grabbed a juice box from the cooler. Frederick let him try to open it himself but when he saw him struggle with the straw he took over and opened it for him. "Mom and Dad always go to school together. They say it's more fun."
Frederick frowned. He assumed Fred's parents were in med-school, which could be incredibly time consuming. "Are they gone a lot?"
"M-hmm." Fred nodded as he sipped at his juice. He already seemed calmer, but Frederick was more concerned than ever.
"Who takes care of you when your parents are at school?" Frederick asked.
"I had a babysitter." Fred said. "But last year Daddy said I was big enough to be alone."
Frederick was convinced he had heard that wrong. "You're six years old."
Fred smiled. "Yeah, a big kid." Frederick was still trying to wrap his head around this. Fred finished off his juice, wiped his sticky hands on his pants, and looked at him with a determined look in his eyes.
"Can we practice kicking again?" Fred asked. "I need to get good, because Daddy says boys are good at playing sports."
Frederick would much rather sit Fred down and talk to him about how, exactly, he could take care of himself. He desperately wanted to know if he was making a big deal of nothing. But Fred was just a child. He didn't understand that something could potentially be wrong. This was something that Frederick would need to speak to the boy's parents about, and that would have to wait until later.
"Yes." Frederick said, though his heart wasn't in it. Fred didn't notice. He just smiled and took his hand again, leading him back to where the others were. Fred got in the back of the line of the kids taking turns trying to kick the ball. Frederick stood to the side and watched, barely paying attention at all.
The rest of practice was a bit of a blur for him. He only watched Fred. The boy wasn't able to successfully kick the ball when he ran at it, but he didn't trip again, and he didn't look nearly as frustrated as he had before.
After working on this exercise for a bit, William had them take turns trying out the goalie's spot as he gently kicked the ball towards them. This was Fred's best exercise. Unlike many of the kids, he wasn't afraid of the ball. Sometimes he missed catching it with his hands and it hit his arms or legs instead, but he accomplished his goal of stopping the ball.
Overall, the practice was relatively short. When they were done the other kids ran to get their snacks. Fred just grabbed one of the balls and went back to practicing his kicks. Frederick joined him.
"When are your parents picking you up?" Frederick asked. He wanted to speak to them.
"I'm walking home." Fred said. That probably meant that he lived nearby, but Frederick didn't like the thought of such a young child walking home alone, even in such a safe neighborhood.
"Why don't I drive you home?" Frederick suggested. He wanted to know where Fred lived so he could stop by some time to see his parents. And he didn't think he'd be able to sleep tonight if he knew this kid was unsupervised.
"Okay." Fred agreed cheerfully. That almost made Frederick more worried about this boy's safety. He was clearly trusting. Frederick was practically a stranger to him, and Fred was just agreeing to get into his car. Somebody with ill-intentions would have far too easy a time getting a hold of this boy should they so desire.
Frederick knew it wasn't his place to take care of the boy in this way, but he didn't know if he could live with himself if he didn't. Fred needed a caretaker, or at least someone who watched him from a distance. Until Frederick knew whether his parents could properly fulfill that role, he would be keeping a close eye on this boy. Just in case.