In the morning, Victor woke up feeling more energetic than ever, nevertheless, he also felt a bit weird. Despite the unusual feeling, he decided to ignore it and prepared his breakfast. However, while he was eating, he realised once again that he didn’t have his car. 

His solution was to call Bernard Williams, a guy with a toned physique, one of the team members and a friend that Victor could actually consider close compared to the other footballers.

Bernard picked up the phone.

“Hey, Bernard, can you give me a lift to the training center?”

“Oh, hi Victor, why don't you use your car?”

“Um, I just left it there, at the center.”

“What?”

“Please, just come.”

“Okay.”

Bernard arrived, with his gleaming, expensive white car. From outside, it looked very fancy but, from inside, wasn’t as clean as Lawrence’s one, it had some rubbish, like soda cans, papers and food wrappers. No sooner had Crawford got into the car than he was questioned by his friend.

“I don't get it, how do you forget your car? You need it to go home.”

“It's nothing, I hung out with a friend.”

“Oh, who is it?”

“It's Jack, Jack Lawrence.”

“Wait, since when are you friends?”

“I don't even know if we are friends… I mean, I would like to.”

“Then, if you're not friends, what the hell were you doing in his car?”

“He invited me to eat sushi.”

“So suddenly?” 

“Yeah, I guess… He's easy to get to know.”

After arriving at the training center, the coach gave a tiny speech.

“Okay lads. In one more week, we have a small match. It is not as important as the World League, but we have to keep ourselves strong and show a good impression, so we’re going to practice ‘till our legs can’t move. Let’s go, we can do it!”

In today's game, Crawford was left on the bench with a few more guys, because they were forming small groups that would take turns to play. The losing team would be eliminated, making way for the team on the bench.

Not looking at Lawrence was almost impossible to Crawford at that moment, who could not help but think about him. Besides, he was a very good player. ‘He’s very talented’ was the kind of thoughts that he had when he watched Lawrence running, kicking and passing the ball, scoring goals. He was noticeably good at this sport.

Right next to him, there was Bernard and Logan Riley, a slim but strong guy with curly hair who was also Crawford's friend.

“Hey, Vic,” said Logan.

He didn't answer.

“Victor,”

“O-oh, what?” Crawford acted like he woke up from a delirium.

“Which team do you think will win?”

“Uh, I don't know. Maybe Jack's team, he is a strong guy.”

“Only Jack?” Said Bernard, slightly mocking him.

“Uh, no- obviously not.”

“...you know, you seem a bit distracted” 

“I'm not distracted.” Crawford went on the defensive.

“Okay, but remember that we have only one week to train for the next match.” 

Victor nodded, without taking his eyes off Lawrence.

The tiny training competition only ended with Jack Lawrence's team winning the two rounds in which they played. After the win, he approached Crawford to say hello.

“You did really well in this match.” Said Crawford.

“Not my best, but thank you. Feeling ready to play this Friday?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Don't worry, we'll win this one!”

“With you in our team, we'll certainly win.”

Lawrence chuckled.