The decision settled in Ethan's chest with a heavy finality. There was relief, but also a new ache. This was the first irreversible step toward a future he had always dreamed of, but it was also the first step away from a present he loved.
His first task was to tell Coach Shaw. He arrived early for the first training session after the winter break, his heart racing. He knocked on the familiar office door. "Come in."
Coach Shaw sat at his desk, buried in tactical notes. He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Coach," Ethan began, his voice firmer than he expected. "My family and I have made a decision. I've spoken to West Brom, and I'm going to accept their scholarship offer for next season."
Shaw held his gaze for a long moment. He tapped his pen once on the desk, then nodded. "Right," he said, his voice flat. "Congratulations, Ethan. You've earned it. It's a great opportunity at a big club. They'll push you." "Thank you, Coach," Ethan said, relief washing over him. "Does this change anything for today?" Shaw asked, narrowing his eyes. "No, Coach. I'm here to win the league," Ethan said, his resolve strengthening. "Good," Shaw said, leaning forward. "Because as far as I'm concerned, you're my number ten until the last whistle of the last game. But know this," he added, his tone dropping, "the second you take your foot off the gas, the second I think your mind is on The Hawthorns instead of on this pitch, you'll be on the bench. I will not let you cost this team a title we've worked hard for. Am I clear?" "Crystal clear, Coach." "Good. Now get your boots on. We've got a league to win."
Telling his coach was the professional part. Telling his friends would be harder.
He found them in the changing room, the familiar smell of liniment and damp kit in the air. They were all there, chatting loudly as they got ready for the session. He caught Callum and Mason's eyes and nodded toward a quiet corner. "So..." Callum said, his voice trailing off as he sensed the answer. "It's done," Ethan said quietly. "I told my mum, and we called them back. I'm signing with West Brom this summer."
Callum's ambitious expression softened into something more complex—a mix of pride, envy, and unexpected sadness. He let out a long breath. "Wow," he whispered. "So, that's it. You're... you're actually going. A pro." He forced a grin and punched Ethan on the arm. "Knew you'd be the first one. Knew it."
Mason just nodded, his usual pragmatism in place, but his eyes were serious. "It's the right move," he said. "They'd be foolish not to sign you. And you'd be foolish not to go." He finished tying his laces and stood up, looking at both of them. "But it's for the summer. We're only halfway through this season. We're top of the league. Let's not get weird about this. We've got a job to finish."
He was right, but as they walked onto the floodlit pitch, something had shifted. The news had spread through the rest of the team. The other players looked at him differently. He wasn't just "Matthews" or "Eastfield" anymore. He was the one who was going pro.
The training session was intense, but Ethan felt a new distance. It was as if he was looking at his team, his friends, through a pane of glass. He was with them, but he was no longer one of them. Not completely.
He knew his time at Crestwood was no longer just a season. It was a countdown. And he was determined to make every single second count.