The faint chill of winter lingered in the air, but the rare Sunday afternoon sun was bright and cut through the seasonal gloom. It was the halfway point of the season, and Crestwood was at the top of the league. To celebrate, Ethan, Callum, and Mason were finally doing something they rarely had time for: just hanging out in town. They nursed hot chocolates while sitting on a bench in the main square, watching the weekend shoppers go by.
"So, the Baggies, eh?" Callum said, blowing on his drink. "Proper club. Imagine walking out at The Hawthorns one day." His eyes, usually sharp with ambition, were wide with a mix of excitement for Ethan and a hint of his own dreams.
"It's just a visit, Cal," Ethan said, though he felt a thrill every time he thought about it. "Nothing's decided. And the England tournament comes first."
"Don't be modest, Eastfield," Mason grunted, leaning back against the bench. "They don't invite people for tea and biscuits. They want you. This is it. You're going pro." His tone was, as always, blunt, but there was a hint of pride.
"What do you think you'll do?" Callum asked, genuinely curious. "Would you go? Leave Crestwood? Leave us?"
The question hung in the air, heavier than the winter cold. Ethan thought about it. The idea of leaving Crestwood and his friends was painful. This team and this journey were theirs. But the offer from West Brom was a direct path to the dream they had all chased.
"I don't know," Ethan admitted. "I haven't even visited yet. And Coach Shaw wants me focused on the league and England. It's a lot." He ran a hand through his hair. "It feels like a huge step."
"It is a huge step," Mason confirmed. "But you're good enough. You're the best player I've ever played with." That was high praise from Mason, who rarely gave compliments.
A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the distant sound of traffic and chatter. It was a strange moment, caught between the present and the uncertain future.
Suddenly, Callum stiffened, and his eyes widened. "Alright, lads, incoming. Three o'clock," he muttered, subtly nudging Ethan with his foot.
Ethan and Mason looked up. Walking across the square, giggling and scrolling through their phones, were three girls about their age. They wore winter coats and scarves, and one of them, with a bright red hat, had a laugh that carried across the square.
Callum, always the ladies' man, immediately sat up straighter and tried to casually fix his hair. "Alright, don't know them," he whispered, a hopeful glint in his eye. "Especially the one in the red hat. Mason, do you know them? Get us an intro!"
Mason rolled his eyes. "Callum, we're discussing Ethan's entire career here, and you're ogling some girls."
"Hey, a man can multitask!" Callum shot back, flashing a charming grin towards the girls, who were completely oblivious. "Besides, what's the point of being a future football star if you can't impress the pretty girls, eh, Ethan? Maybe West Brom has some cute girls too, mate. Double bonus!"
Ethan just laughed and shook his head. For a moment, the pressure of West Brom, England, and the league title lifted. It was just three friends hanging out in town, dreaming big, and Callum being Callum. It was a moment of welcome normalcy, a reminder that amidst all the intense pressure, they were still just fifteen year old boys.