Chapter 3 — Falling from Grace

Harley

The locker room was too quiet. Not the kind of quiet that let you think, but the kind that suffocated. The faint clink of cleats on the tiled floor and the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead only made it worse. Usually, the team’s chatter filled the space—laughs, loud voices, plans for the weekend. Now it was reduced to murmurs, as if everyone knew something was about to happen but didn’t want to be the first to say it.

I sat on the bench, my fingers twisting the leather bracelet on my wrist, the knot digging into my palm. The worn texture was grounding, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My teammates exchanged glances, their movements shifting like shadows in my peripheral vision. Some looked at me, then quickly away, their whispers sharp as static. They knew. Somehow, they all knew.

The sharp sound of cleats striking the floor jerked my attention to the door. Aidan DeLuca strode in, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable. His whistle swung from his neck like a pendulum, catching the light. He stopped in the center of the locker room and glanced at his watch, as though measuring the exact second to detonate the bomb he was carrying.

“Team meeting,” he announced, his tone decisive and clipped. No explanation. No warmth. Just business.

We scrambled into a loose arc around him, the scent of sweat and damp grass intensifying in the confined space. The metal lockers loomed behind us, reflecting the fluorescent light in dull streaks. My heart pounded loud and fast, like a drumline in my chest. My teammates shifted on their feet, a few fiddling with their jerseys or water bottles. The tension was so thick it felt like the air had teeth.

Aidan’s gaze swept across us, sharp and assessing, but when it landed on me, it lingered. My stomach twisted—the way it always did before a big game—but I forced myself to meet his eyes. Neutral. Unreadable. That’s what my dad always said. No one could use what they didn’t see.

“I’ve made a decision regarding the team’s leadership,” Aidan said, his voice steady but unrelenting. “Effective immediately, Harley Leandro will no longer serve as captain.”

The words hit like a sucker punch, stealing the air from my lungs. The room seemed to freeze, the charged silence pressing against my skull. My teammates stared—some wide-eyed, some whispering to each other in disbelief. A few looked relieved, others… pitying. My skin burned under their gazes.

“What?” The word burst out of me before I could stop it, sharp and raw.

Aidan didn’t flinch. His expression was carved from stone. “The role of captain requires more than just skill. It’s about teamwork, adaptability, and setting an example—both on and off the field. Right now, I don’t believe you’re in a place to fulfill those responsibilities.”

I shot to my feet, the scrape of the bench echoing like a thrown gauntlet. My voice came out venomous, trembling with anger I couldn’t contain. “You don’t believe? Do you even know what I’ve done for this team? How much I’ve sacrificed?”

“This isn’t about what you’ve done,” he said evenly. “It’s about what the team needs now.”

The team. Always the damn team.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. My dad’s face flashed in my mind—his grin, his voice telling me I could lead if I just worked hard enough. I clenched my jaw so tightly it ached, blinking back the sting threatening my eyes. “Who then?” I demanded, my voice like a whip. “Who’s so perfect that they can do the job better than me?”

“Sophie Patel.”

The name was another blow, and my knees nearly buckled. Sophie’s head snapped up, her brown eyes wide. Her jaw dropped as her hand instinctively reached for her braid, twisting the end nervously.

“Wait, what? Me?” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

“You’ve shown consistency, collaboration, and the ability to bring the team together,” Aidan said. His tone softened slightly, though it still carried the weight of finality. “Those are the qualities this team needs in a captain.”

Sophie’s gaze darted around the circle, guilt etched into her expression. Her hands twisted the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and she looked at me like she was waiting for permission to breathe. I couldn’t stand it.

I turned and shoved through the circle, ignoring the startled gasps. The locker room door slammed behind me, the sound ricocheting like a gunshot in the silence.

The cool air outside hit my face, but it didn’t soothe the inferno raging in my chest. My cleats crunched against the gravel path as I stalked away from the complex, the distant sounds of whistles and laughter making my steps heavier. My fingers dug into my palms, the sting keeping me grounded as my thoughts spiraled.

He didn’t get it. None of them did. This wasn’t just about the team. This was about my dad. His legacy. My legacy. Losing the captaincy felt like losing him all over again, like I was letting him down in the worst way possible.

I reached the far edge of the complex, where the field sloped into an unkempt patch of grass. Dropping to my knees, I ripped the bracelet from my wrist. The knot frayed as I hurled it onto the ground. It landed in the dirt, the worn leather catching the sun.

“What do you want from me?” I shouted, my voice cracking and raw. The empty field didn’t answer. It never did.

“Harley.”

The voice startled me, and I whipped around to see Sophie jogging toward me, her braid bouncing against her shoulder. She slowed as she got closer, her hands raised in a careful, conciliatory gesture.

“Don’t,” I warned, my voice low and seething.

She hesitated but didn’t stop. “I didn’t ask for this. You know that, right?”

I turned away, scowling at the horizon. “Didn’t stop you from accepting it.”

Her voice tightened, frustration seeping through her usual warmth. “I didn’t accept anything. I didn’t even know he was going to say that. I’m as blindsided as you are.”

“Yeah, well, congrats, Captain,” I said bitterly. “Hope you enjoy it.”

“Stop.” Her voice was sharp now, cutting through my anger. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. And if you can’t see that, maybe Aidan’s right.”

The words hung in the air like a slap. My fists unclenched, but I still couldn’t turn to face her.

Sophie sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I didn’t mean that. I just—Harley, you’ve been carrying this weight for so long, and it’s like you won’t let anyone else help. You think you have to do everything alone, but you don’t.”

“It’s not your weight to carry,” I muttered, barely audible.

“Maybe not,” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”

Her words cracked something in me, but I couldn’t let it show. I stared at the treeline, my throat too tight to speak.

“For what it’s worth,” Sophie added, her tone soft now, “I think you’re a great captain. But maybe… maybe you don’t have to prove it all the time. Maybe it’s okay to just be part of the team.”

I didn’t respond. The storm in my chest hadn’t settled enough for words.

Sophie lingered for a moment, then stepped back. “Whenever you’re ready,” she said, her voice filled with something I couldn’t quite name. Hope, maybe.

I stayed still as her footsteps faded into the distance. My gaze dropped to the bracelet lying in the dirt, the knot loose but holding. Slowly, I reached for it, brushing the dust from the leather. The knot felt different in my hands now—less like a tether and more like a question.

Maybe Sophie was right. Maybe it was time to try.