Alex sat in his chemistry class on Monday morning.
He was staring at a Bunsen burner. The blue flame flickered.
"Exothermic reactions," Mr. White, the teacher, droned on. "Energy is released. Heat. Light. Sound."
Alex rested his chin on his hand.
Football is an exothermic reaction, he thought. You put in energy. You get noise. You get heat.
"Mr. Finch?"
Alex snapped his head up. "Yes, sir?"
"You are staring at the flame like it is a Champions League trophy," Mr. White said. "Please tell me the formula for combustion."
Alex blinked. His brain was still in Liverpool, replaying the pass to Jude.
"Uh... Fuel plus Oxygen equals... Goal?" Alex guessed.
The class laughed.
"Carbon dioxide and water, Mr. Finch," the teacher sighed. "Though I suppose a goal produces a similar amount of gas from the commentators."
School finished. Alex walked out.
It was raining. Again. London rain was different from Manchester rain. It was polite, but persistent.
Mark was waiting.
