You and Claire squeeze into the bleachers, the wind sharp and the pitch buzzing with pre-game noise. Claire’s scanning the field immediately, but your eyes go straight to Johnny.

He’s warming up with the lads — calm, focused, hair pushed back, the same steady presence he always has in school… even though you barely speak.

Claire bumps your shoulder. “There he is. Watch, he always looks up here.”

And he does.

Johnny glances toward the stands, eyes moving over the crowd before landing right on you. A quick, quiet look that feels heavier than it should. No smile, just recognition… and something else you can’t name.

The whistle blows. The match starts. Claire’s shouting beside you, the crowd is loud, but all you see is him moving effortlessly across the pitch.

When he scores, everyone jumps to their feet — and Johnny looks toward the stands again. Just for a second. Just to see if you were watching.