The news spread through Eastfield like wildfire. By Monday morning, when Ethan walked through the gates of Eastfield Secondary, the whole school felt different. The usual morning chatter was replaced by whispers, pointed fingers, and stares.
"That's him, the one who signed for West Brom." "He's going to be a professional footballer." "My dad said he'll be on Match of the Day in a few years."
In the common room, a group of kids he barely knew broke into applause. He was no longer just Ethan Matthews, the talented kid from their year. He was an export. He was the one who had made it out.
Callum, who arrived earlier, was soaking it all in. "See this, mate?" he grinned, pointing to the crowd. "This is what it's all about. You're a legend, and you haven't even played a game for them yet."
But the attention felt heavy, distancing him from his peers in a way he hadn't expected. Some classmates who used to joke with him now seemed hesitant and shy, as if he were already a celebrity.
Even the teachers treated him differently. Mr. Davies pulled him aside after history class with a proud smile. "Ethan, I heard the news," he said, shaking his hand firmly. "Absolutely fantastic. You deserve it. But," he added, his teacher instincts kicking in, "don't think this gets you out of your mocks. A professional club like that will expect you to have your education in order. They want smart players, not just talented ones. Don't let this derail the other half of your life."
The pressure was even stronger in town. When he walked with his mum to the local shop, the owner, who had barely said more than "hello" to him before, came out from behind the counter to shake his hand. "The whole town is proud of you, son," he beamed. "You're putting Eastfield on the map."
The front page of the Eastfield Gazette featured a picture of him from the Riverton game with a giant headline: EASTFIELD'S ETHAN SIGNS FOR THE BAGGIES!
The praise was relentless, but it felt less like a celebration and more like a coronation. He was the town's golden boy, proof that a kid from their muddy pitches could make it. With every "congratulations," Ethan felt the weight of expectation increase. He wasn't just playing for Crestwood's title, or his own future, or the England squad anymore.
He was now carrying the hopes of his entire town.
As he got on the bus for training that Tuesday, the noise and congratulations of the town faded behind him. He stared out the window. The decision, which had felt so personal and difficult, was no longer his alone. It belonged to everyone. He had to succeed. He wasn't just doing it for himself; he was doing it for all of them. And he knew that if he failed, he'd let them all down.