Chapter Two

Over an hour later

"No amount of luck can help fix this..." she muttered to herself whilst scrubbing away at the purple paint spurted all over the floor. The stupid paint wouldn't come off! Sapphie straightened until she was sitting on her hunches and flung her brush onto the floor. Using her forearm, she wiped the sweat from her brow and temples. By the time she'd finished cleaning the toilets, her arms were aching and she was sweaty.

What was he thinking using paint for his prank? Couldn't water have sufficed?

At least she'd already prepared the gear for tomorrow's training. That meant sorting through over a hundred pieces of gear and equipment within half an hour.

The hardest part of this job, besides running around and doing stuff that wasn't part of her job description, was this. Having to clean up after people who didn't care one bit how the one cleaning up after them felt.

Did these guys seriously believe machines cleaned up after them? She thought. But then her face relaxed when she thought of Mr Charbonneau. The fifty something year old janitor who usually cleaned these parts of the building. If her body ached from swatting in awkward positions for an hour, she can only imagine what it was like for the old man. Had she not been late to work today, he'd have been the one kneeling where she was. A vivid image of Mr Charbonneau, with his friendly smile, bent over this mess and scrubbing away with his gnarled and knobbly hands.

"Kylian? You're so lucky you've never actually met me. Or that you're nowhere near me right now," she scrubbed with more vigour, "because I would wring your neck into a toothpick."

Seeing that her efforts had only fixed so much. Sapphie's shoulders slumped with a resigned sigh. She got up and walked to her cleaning cart. She pulled out a couple more detergent bottles and sprayed the chemicals onto the paint stains. Now all she had to do was wait for them to do their job. She set up her wet floor sign before donning a face mask and collecting all the soiled gear from the game the team played the previous night and took them down to the dry-cleaning room in the basement.

After loading the washing machines, she came back to give the paint another go. Luckily, her trick worked well making her wonder why she hadn't started with that instead. Just as she was finishing up with, Pierre's lanky frame suddenly filled the changing room's doorway.

"Sapphira, good. You're still here. I need you to carry these to the pitch." He dumped a net filled of footballs and cones at his feet, "Coach needs them as soon as yesterday. Make sure you to check that not a single one is missing."

Sapphira froze for a moment. She didn't know how to respond. Part of her wanted to protest and suggest he ask someone else. Because at this rate, if he kept on throwing surprises her way, she'd never get the things on her to do list for the day done. She knew if she stepped foot on that pitch, the coach will keep her there for another hour.

Alas, over a year of working with Pierre, had taught her the art of holding her tongue, and holding it well.

Come on Sapphie, you've got to be used to this by now. Surprises are now your forte.

"What are you waiting for? Now!" He clapped.

"Ouí, yes." Ungracefully, she rushed onto her feet, pulled off her gloves and accepted the clip board he was holding out to her.

She made it to the pitch with the net slung over one shoulder and the clip board tucked securely in her armpit. The team was busy practicing their dribbling and scoring, except for a few close by players, no one really paid her any mind as she approached the coach and quickly began to unpack everything.

Pulling out one of her earphones, she smiled. "Mr Galtier, the extra balls and cones as requested."

"Thank you, Sapphie." He promptly took the pile of cones and went away to start setting them up.

Happy that he didn't seem like he would need her for anything else got to work fast.

After checking that everything was accounted for, Sapphie rose to her feet with a satisfied nod. She was writing something on the clip board, walking away, when someone yelled, "Watch out!"

Sapphie didn't hear the warning. She was now wearing both earphones. Something solid hit her smack-dab in the face.

Someone's stray ball had whacked her lights out.

***

"I can do it." He said with a definitive nodded, as if he were trying to convince himself. He put his hands on his waist and sized the goal post from where he was standing.

He almost could never back down from a challenge, especially if that challenge was about him proving he could do anything well. This was football. He ate, slept, breathed and he is one of the best strikers in the world. He could do this.

"Just imagine if I score like this in the champions league final."

"Like the eight second goal against Lille? That was amazing." Said Achraf.

"Yeah," he mused, "but only better."

He could already vividly picture it. The fans screaming in the stands, cheering on the team. The smell of the pitch, the lights, the cameras, even the comfortable feeling of the ball against his cleats as he manoeuvres between two defenders closing in on him.

There's less than a minute until the final whistle. The score line is a draw between PSG and Madrid. The atmosphere in the stadium grows more tense. But just seconds before the final whistle, he sees an opening through the traffic of midfielders and strikers. With little time to think, he moves the ball between his feet, flicks it into the air and shoots!

Goooooaaaal!

"I bet your AF1s say you can't man." Ach smirked.

"What's going on?" Ney jogged up to them.

"Kiks says he can make a perfect shot from here." They were standing not far from the centre circle of the pitch.

Coach had them practicing their shots by putting up hoops to score through in five different spots within the goal post. There was one hoop in the top left corner of the goal post, another in the right, one in the centre and two in the bottom corners.

Neymar grinned and rubbed his hands together, "How much?"

"I get his Blue off-white AF1s if he loses."

They were a pair of Nike sneakers. They were limited edition and the ones Ach was talking about, he got them fresh off of the conveyer belt days before their release date.

Kylian scoffed, "I never agreed to that."

"You didn't say no either," said Ach, "He's aiming for the top left. He's betting he can do it on his first try. You in?"

"A hundred, you in?" Asked Kylian.

"Count me in. But... if you miss, the food is on you at Presnel and Renato's birthday party instead."

"You cheapskate," laughed Kylian then he stretched on his hand and they shook on it.

"You boys might want to post this on Instagram." He said as he took his position.

He breathed out through his mouth and calculated distance and speed. He shifted a little to the left to compensate for the arc the ball would make when it moved from his boot and into the hoop. When he was satisfied with his assessment, he took the shot.

The ball tore through the air. A few of the guys even stopped what they were doing to watch. It looked like a perfect shot... right up until the very last minute.

Instead of making it into the hoop, the ball hit the post and veered off to the right.

"Watch out!" Someone yelled, probably Marcos, but it was too late. The girl was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The ball hit her right in the face.

"Ooh." Ach cringed.

Neymar whistled low with a shake of his head, "Yeah, you definitely wouldn't want that on Instagram."

Kylian didn't pay them any mind, he'd already started running in her direction.

***

One moment she'd been on her feet and the next she was lying flat on her back, blinking at the blue sky. A very swirly blue sky. Sapphie groaned. It only took her a couple of seconds to realise what had happened.

Before she'd even sat up straight, someone had already rushed to her side.

"Damn," said a disembodied voice her. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay—"

Sapphira quickly stumbled to her feet. She wobbled when a bit of a dizzy spell hit her from getting up too fast. Her legs made her feel like a new born baby deer with the way they shook.

"Are you okay?" This time when he asked, she looked at him. It took a moment for her to recognise him.

Kylian Mbappé—more commonly referred to as just Mbappé. One of the best and famous football players in the world. The very same one who was to blame for the mess in their locker rooms.

The neon orange bib he wore over his vest flattered in the breeze. Like everyone else he was wearing black and blue club vests and tights for training.

"You're bleeding..." He was standing in front of her, his strong hand gently resting on her shoulder. He was staring at her nose with wide eyes.

"What...?" For a moment, Sapphira stared into the restless dark orbs, wondering why he was looking at her like that. That is until his words penetrated the cloud of confusion in her brain.

Sapphie reached up and dabbed at her nose. When she checked her fingers, they had some blood on them.

"I think you need a medic" he said.

"I'm fine." She told him but he ignored her and yelled over his shoulder.

"She needs a medic!"

"I said I'm fine!" Sapphira shrugged his hand away from her shoulder as anger quickly replaced confusion.

Could her day get any worse? What the hell was going on today... Monday blues on a Friday?

"But you're bleeding."

Her eyes narrowed and answered tersely, "Yeah, no thanks to you... again," she swiped her clip board from the ground, then addressed the medic beside her, "I'm fine, seriously."

She stalked off the pitch in the direction she'd come from. When she got to the bathroom, she made a bee line for the mirrors to investigate the amount of damage done. Apart from a headache, the little blood that had trickled from her nostril and a huge bruise that'd decorate her face, she deemed herself okay. With an exasperated sigh, Sapphira cleaned up her nose and decided to get back to work.

"That's the—equipment manager, right? What's her name again? Sarah, Sophia?" Kylian asked as he continued to open door she'd just disappear through.

What was her problem? He thought.

"Dude, it's Sapphira, not Sophia." Replied Neymar.

Either she was just a rude person or she wasn't a big fan of his. Or maybe she was both.

Kylian sighed. He realised he'd messed up, but he'd apologized hadn't he.

"Was it just me or, it seemed... really tick off?"

"Yeah, you practically KO'd her with your amazing football skills in front of everyone. You're right, she shouldn't be pissed off."

"No, man. I mean—like this was more than just about the accident. She said 'again' like it was supposed to mean something."

"Beats me," Ney shrugged, "uh-oh, here comes trouble," He nodded in the coach's direction and he did not look happy.

"You mind explaining what that was?"

"Nothing, coach. It was just a bit of fun." He shrugged. Kylian tensed up as he prepared for the chewing out, he knew was coming.

There you have! That was Chapter Two as promised. Let me know what you think in the comments guys and don't forget to vote. I'm really enjoying writing this book. My only hope is that it doesn't disappoint.

Happy reading!!

Kudzi xoxo