Monday - St. Louise School Campus
Ryker San Juan stood in front of his locker, frozen.
The morning hallway buzzed with its usual chaos-slamming locker doors, squeaky shoes, gossip bouncing off the tiled walls. Students hustled to their first-period classes. But Ryker stood still, staring at the red envelope tucked inside his locker like it didn't belong there. Like it had landed by mistake.
He hesitated before picking it up. The envelope was stiff, heavy. The school crest shimmered in gold at the top center. His name was handwritten in elegant black ink.
Ryker San Juan
His heart thudded.
He hadn't even opened it yet, but he already had a guess.
"You got one too man?" came a voice.
Ryker turned to see Miggy, his teammate and fellow rookie, standing a few lockers down with an identical red envelope in his hand. Unlike Ryker, the seal was broken but still wasn't able to pull it out yet.
"Yeah," Ryker said, holding his envelope like it might crack in his hands. "I think this is it."
Miggy gave a small nod, eyes calm but alert, like he was still processing it too. "And Jacob?"
Before Ryker could answer, a whirlwind of energy came barreling down the hallway. Jacob, their third rookie partner-in-chaos, sprinted around the corner, nearly knocking over two sophomores lugging musical instruments. He waved his red envelope high over his head like it was the final baton in a championship relay.
"Hey guys you got one too?!"
Miggy cracked a grin. Ryker couldn't help but smile, though his hands were still shaking.
"Did you open it?" Ryker asked.
"Nah," Jacob said. "Wanted to do it together. You know, dramatic effect."
The bell rang, but none of them moved.
"Screw homeroom," Jacob muttered. "Let's go somewhere quiet."
They went to the empty stairwell of the Art Wing Department. It was a spot known only to the truly introverted or hopelessly late. The stairwell behind the art wing rarely saw foot traffic, save for students escaping into sketchbooks or earbuds.
The three of them sat on the steps.
Miggy pulled out his envelope first. He unfolded the thick paper and began reading aloud:
"Dear Mr. Santiago, We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as a recipient of the St. Louise' Athletic Excellence Grant for the 2025-2026 academic year..."
Jacob whooped and slammed a palm against the wall. "LET'S GO!"
Ryker opened his. His eyes scanned the same words. Each syllable sent a wave of disbelief crashing through him.
". . .Full tuition. Meal vouchers. Priority gym access. Academic support. . ."
The first step towards his goal in helping his mom. He wasn't just on the team. He belonged here now.
Jacob tore his open and shouted: "Boom baby. I'm buying everyone milkshakes tonight!"
"Man, you don't even have money for milkshakes," Miggy deadpanned.
"Okay just snacks and a couple of soda cans for once." Jacob grinned.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, letters in their hands, hearts in their throats.
Ryker looked at his teammates. "I still couldn't believe it."
Miggy glanced down at his own hands. "Because we fought harder. Coach saw that. You think Giovanni would chase down a ball like you did last game? He'd wait for someone to hand it to him."
"Coach said that game was a test," Ryker recalled.
"And guess what, we passed," Jacob said, stretching out on the stairs. "I feel like we should celebrate... but I kinda just wanna sit here and feel it for a second."
They sat there for a few seconds in silence, letting it sink in.
"You know," Ryker said after a beat, staring at the letter. "This is more than just football. This means... my mom can stop working on Sundays."
Miggy wiped at his eyes, laughing. "Man, don't start. I'm not about to cry next to the dumpster." But his voice cracked anyway.
Ryker smiled, heart thudding with something he didn't know how to name.
"We did this," he said. "Every sprint. Every drill. Every time we got clowned in practice... it added up."
Jacob nodded. "And yet here we are."
"Same," Miggy said. "This isn't just ours. It's our families' too."
After that they hurriedly went to their classes late.
Meanwhile that same day at Coach D's Office, SLU Athletics Building.
The scent of old leather, turf glue, and fresh printouts filled the modest office tucked behind the main gym. On the wall behind the desk hung a black-and-white photo of the 1997 Red Barons-Coach D's glory days-alongside the framed jersey of their last championship squad. The championship that eluded the school grounds up to the present.
Coach Elpidio Delgado-Coach D, to nearly everyone-sat behind his desk, leaning back with his reading glasses perched low on his nose, with a hint of cigar flipping through a folder labeled "Roster: 2025 Tournament Draft."
The door creaked open.
Rhian stepped in, clutching her clipboard like always, with her SLU athletics badge clipped at her waist. Behind her followed Dexter, still in his warm-ups, and Aleck, wearing his usual leather jacket and a look of quiet focus.
Coach D glanced up and gestured toward the chairs. "Good. Close the door."
They took their seats.
Rhian sat up straight. "You wanted to review the scholarship confirmations before finalizing the tournament roster?"
Coach D nodded, tapping the folder. "The rookies. Ryker San Juan. Miguel Santiago. Jacob Ramirez as well as Kian Salazar. They're in."
Dex leaned forward, clearly unable to hold back. "Coach, Ryker earned that. I've never seen someone evolve so fast in four weeks."
Aleck smirked slightly. "He still eats turf more than I'd like. But he's got grit. The kind you don't teach."
Coach D chuckled. "He outran Giovanni. That was all the data I needed."
Rhian opened her clipboard. "Ryker San Juan, Miguel Santiago, Jacob Ramirez and Kian Salazar all received and acknowledged the scholarship grant. I made sure they got the red envelopes this morning, slipped into their lockers."
Dexter laughed under his breath. "Ryker looked like he'd been handed a scroll from Hogwarts, you should have seen the look on his face."
Rhian smiled. "It was a good moment for them. They deserve it."
Coach D leaned forward, his voice dipping into the quiet tone he used when things really mattered.
"These three-I mean four do we all agree they're tournament-ready?"
Aleck folded his arms, thinking. "Ryker's speed is now an asset, not a liability. If we play him wide instead of central, he's less likely to get caught offside. And he's learning how to curve his runs."
Dexter nodded. "Miggy's our most technically gifted rookie. His passes are smart. He doesn't panic under pressure. Could be a good second-half weapon when the midfield gets heavy."
Rhian added, "Jacob's a workhorse. Not as athletic as the first two but his pressing game is nonstop. Might not be flashy, but he breaks rhythm in the other team's build-up. And he listens a lot."
"Kian is no exception, he stopped Giovanni a lot of times during the practice match. If he can do it to him he'll be one hell of a goal keeper one day." Aleck added.
Coach D scribbled something on his notepad.
Dexter looked around, more serious now. "They're new especially Ryker. But they don't act scared. That matters."
Rhian glanced at Dex. "As if we have a choice, we barely had any applicants this year."
Coach D smirked.
"Good," he said. "Because this tournament isn't just about wins. It's about building the next version of this team. We're losing 2 seniors after this season. Key players to this team."
He pointed at Aleck.
"You'll be gone. And so will Dexter. You two carry the spine of this squad. If we don't start forging new steel now, next year we're looking at a rebuild from scratch."
Aleck exhaled. "Then we better make sure they're ready to carry more than just water bottles."
Coach D smiled. "They're not just rookies anymore. They're investments."
Dexter nodded. "Rookies with receipts."
Everyone laughed, but the moment still buzzed with weight.
Rhian tapped her pen. "What about team dynamics? The upperclassmen are warming up to them, but there's still a little bit of friction."
Aleck raised a brow. "Like who?"
Rhian hesitated. "Well... Miguel's been rubbing Paolo the wrong way. Not disrespectfully, just... competitive energy. Miggy doesn't like being bossed around by someone who doesn't train as hard."
Dexter muttered, "He just doesn't know Paolo that much. He just seems timid but its the other way around."
Aleck shrugged. "Let 'em sort it out on the pitch."
Coach D nodded. "That's where all problems settle anyway."
He leaned back again.
"Alright. We move forward. Red Barons vs St. Ignatius is in two weeks from now. We prep hard. Keep the rookies close. Let them train in segments. Push them into the fire."
Aleck stood. "Understood."
As they got up to leave, Coach D called after them.
"One more thing."
They paused.
Coach D looked directly at Aleck and Dex. "You two are their anchors. They'll follow your tone. If you show doubt, they'll fold. If you show belief, they'll fight through hell."
Dexter gave a nod. "We've got them, Coach."
Aleck's expression softened just a little. "We'll lead them."
Rhian followed them out but lingered at the doorway for a second, looking back at Coach.
"You're really betting on them," she said softly.
Coach D didn't look up from his notes.
"No. I'm believing in them."
Later that afternoon, everyone else filtered off campus by four, but Ryker, Miggy, and Jacob stuck around. They met by the back field near the old equipment shed-abandoned, mostly, except for spare cones, faded uniforms, and a leaky hose spigot.
Jacob had swiped three sodas from the vending machine brought leftover chips from lunch. Miggy, ever resourceful, had managed to get his hands on a small Bluetooth speaker.
They pushed open the shed door and stepped inside. It smelled like rubber and dust, but it was theirs for the after class.
Miggy dropped onto a stack of old mats, popping his soda open. "To the dumbest, cheapest party ever thrown by three broke kids."
Jacob raised his soda. "Correction. Three scholarship kids."
They clinked cans, the sound echoing inside the small shed like a bell.
Ryker laughed and leaned back against the wall. "You know what? This is perfect."
The shed buzzed with quiet music-some lo-fi beat-and the mood had softened into something more reflective.
Ryker sat on an overturned ball cart, quietly spinning a tape roll between his fingers.
"I used to think football was just... a way out," he said. "A ticket. But now? It feels like more than that."
Jacob laid flat on the mat, arms folded behind his head. "When I was in that scrimmage, I felt this... click. Like I finally belonged. You ever get that feeling?"
Ryker thought back to that moment-when he beat Giovanni, when the ball left his foot and zipped into the net like it was meant to be there.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Like the world finally said yes."
Ryker tossed the tape roll into the air and caught it again. "You know Coach D doesn't hand out those envelopes lightly. He saw something."
"Maybe he saw we're stubborn enough to never quit," Jacob said. "Or dumb enough to chase a ball for hours."
They laughed.
Then Miggy stood up, dusted off his pants, and walked toward a window slit near the top of the shed.
"You know what I want?" he said, voice low. "I want us to stay hungry. Scholarships are great. But it's what we do with this chance that matters."
Ryker stood too, suddenly energized. "Then let's write it down. Right now. Like a pact."
Jacob sat up. "You serious?"
Ryker searched through a drawer and pulled out an old marker. He pointed to the back wall-bare, dusty, and perfect.
He scribbled on it:
> "No wasted chances."
Miggy stepped up beside him and added:
> "Play with purpose."
Jacob grinned, took the marker, and finished it off:
> "Earn it every day."
They stood back and stared at the wall. The message wasn't fancy. But it was theirs.
They left the shed just before dark and wandered onto the practice field. No crowds. No coaches. Just the open turf and the night sky stretching above them.
Miggy jogged to the center circle and dropped onto his back. "Look up," he said.
Jacob and Ryker joined him. The stars were faint, but they were there.
"This is the same field we bled on last week," Ryker said. "But it feels different now."
"'Cause we're not just hoping anymore," Jacob said. "We're becoming."
Miggy smiled. "And we're not doing it alone."
They laid there, watching stars blink to life, feeling the chill air bite at their skin. But inside? They burned with a fire no one could see.
Eventually, Ryker sat up.
"I want to remember this," he said. "This exact feeling. The night we started believing we could actually do something big."
Miggy nodded. "Not just win games. Change the game."
Jacob grinned. "Starting with Giovanni. Next time we face him, I'm stealing that goal celebration move he does."
Ryker laughed hard. "Please don't."
"Too late. I'm doing the heart fingers, the spin, and the salute."
Miggy groaned. "We're doomed."
As the day comes to a close, they went outside the school grounds with a renewed hope for tomorrow.