Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 25: Chapter 25: The Captain’s Compliment

The bus ride to East State was completely different from the cabin trip.

There was no shouting, no chaotic packing, and definitely no accidental sleeping on shoulders. The air smelled like deep heat muscle rub and nervous energy. This was the first away fixture of the season, and the team was dialed in entirely.

Audrey sat near the front, sharing a double seat with Ben. Her laptop was open, the screen glowing brightly in the dim bus.

Three rows back, Mason was stuck sitting next to Leo, who was aggressively tapping his foot to music playing through his headphones.

Mason didn’t look back at her once. He was focused. He was the captain.

”Alright, sports genius,” Ben said, leaning over to look at Audrey’s screen. ”What do you think East State will do today?”

Audrey paused the match footage she had been looping for the last hour.

”They are going to overload the left wing,” Audrey said immediately. She pointed a pen at the frozen players on the screen. ”Look at their formation. They always push their midfield wide to the left during the first fifteen minutes. They want to bait Mason.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. ”Bait Calloway? How?”

”By forcing him to step forward to cover the gap,” Audrey explained, tapping the screen. ”And the second he steps out of the backline, their striker isn’t going to cross the ball. He likes cutting inside. He wants a clear shot straight up the middle.”

Ben stared at her for a long second. Then he looked at the screen.

”So,” Ben said slowly, a grin spreading across his face. ”You’ve actually been paying attention.”

”I do my homework,” Audrey said, closing her laptop.

Two hours later, the referee’s whistle blew.

The air was crisp, and the East State stadium was loud. Audrey stood near the touchline with Ben, her camera hanging securely around her neck.

Within the first ten minutes, the East State midfield started shifting.

They pushed wide. All of them. They flooded the left side of the pitch, completely overwhelming Westbridge’s left-back.

A gap opened up in the defense. Mason, reading the danger, immediately took two hard steps forward to close the passing lane.

The second he moved, the East State striker didn’t cross the ball. He cut sharply inside, sprinting directly into the exact space Mason had just vacated.

Westbridge barely managed to clear the ball out of bounds.

Ben slowly lowered his camera. He turned his head and looked at Audrey with wide eyes.

”...How did you know?” Ben asked in disbelief.

Audrey didn’t even look away from the pitch. She just kept writing on her clipboard.

”Because they did the exact same thing against Northbridge last month,” Audrey said simply. ”They aren’t creative. They are just fast.”

Halftime hit, and the score was a frustrating 0-0.

The locker room was tense. The smell of sweat and damp grass filled the small concrete space. Audrey and Ben stood quietly in the corner, recording the atmosphere for the documentary feature.

Coach Miller was aggressively drawing black arrows on a tactical whiteboard.

”They are killing us on the counter!” Coach yelled. ”Calloway, you have to lock down number eleven! He is tearing through the midfield!”

”If I step up on eleven, they slip behind me,” Mason argued, grabbing a water bottle. ”He’s too fast. I can’t leave the box.”

”Then who takes him?” Jackson asked, wiping his face with a towel.

The room erupted into five different arguments at once. Everyone was stressed. Everyone was talking over each other.

Coach Miller slammed his marker against the board.

”Quiet!” Coach bellowed. The room went dead silent. He stared at the messy tactical board, pinching the bridge of his nose. ”Does anyone see something I am missing here?”

Nobody spoke. The players just looked at each other.

Audrey stood in the corner. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She looked at the tablet in her hands, then at the board.

She took a slow, deep breath.

Audrey raised her hand.

Twenty massive players, plus Coach Miller, turned to look at the corner.

”Number eleven isn’t the danger,” Audrey said. Her voice was quiet, but steady.

Coach Miller frowned. ”What did you say, Ellis?”

Audrey stepped out of the corner. She didn’t look at Mason for reassurance. She walked straight up to the tactical board.

”Number eleven is a decoy,” Audrey explained, pointing at the arrows. ”He hasn’t taken a single shot. He just makes a lot of noise. Number seven is the one pulling everyone out of position.”

She tapped the assistant coach’s tablet, pulling up the replay of the last corner kick.

”Look at the footage,” Audrey insisted. ”Number seven makes a dummy run every single time eleven gets the ball. He drags Jackson out of the midfield, which forces Mason to step up. If you ignore eleven and just man-mark seven... their entire attacking structure collapses.”

Coach Miller stared at the screen. He watched the replay once. Then he watched it again.

He slowly looked up at Audrey.

”Well,” Coach Miller muttered, erasing his arrows with the side of his hand. ”I’ll be damned. She’s right.”

He turned back to the team. ”Jackson! You do not leave number seven. Calloway, you stay anchored. Do not take the bait!”

The second half was a completely different match.

Westbridge didn’t just survive; they dominated. Every time East State tried to push down the left wing, Jackson was already there, glued to number seven. The decoy runs stopped working. The striker got frustrated.

In the seventieth minute, Mason intercepted a sloppy pass in the box. He didn’t panic. He looked up once, saw the gap, and threaded a long, perfect diagonal ball over the midfield into open space.

Westbridge’s winger locked onto it, drove it into the box, and scored.

When the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read 1-0.

The away stand erupted. The players rushed the pitch, jumping on each other in exhaustion and triumph.

Audrey stood near the benches, smiling as she snapped photos of the celebration.

Jackson jogged past, completely drenched in sweat. He stopped just long enough to point directly at her.

”Ellis saved us today!” Jackson shouted over the noise.

Leo jogged up right behind him, throwing an arm around Jackson’s shoulders. ”We almost got cooked out there. Good eyes, Audrey!”

Even Coach Miller walked past, giving her a single, respectful nod. ”Nice catch, Ellis.”

Audrey beamed. For the first time, she wasn’t just Logan’s ex. She wasn’t just the captain’s fake girlfriend. She was actually doing her job, and she was good at it.

A few yards away, the celebration was starting to settle down.

Mason was standing near the center circle, holding a water bottle. Players were patting his back, but he wasn’t really paying attention.

He was watching the touchline.

He watched Audrey laughing at something Ben said. He watched her flip through her notebook, her dark hair tucked behind her ear, her face completely lit up with genuine excitement.

He wasn’t impressed because she looked pretty in the stadium lights. He wasn’t impressed because she was his fake girlfriend and it was his job to look at her.

He was impressed because she was brilliant.

She had seen a flaw that an entire coaching staff missed. She had stood in a locker room full of angry, stressed athletes and calmly dismantled the opposing team’s strategy using pure logic.

Mason took a slow drink of water, never taking his eyes off her.

A strange, quiet warmth bloomed in his chest. It was a heavy, grounded feeling.

For the first time, he was incredibly, intensely proud of her.

He didn’t even understand why. He just knew that watching her succeed felt better than winning the match.

By the time the stadium started to empty, Audrey and Ben were packing up the heavy camera equipment cases near the tunnel.

”You know,” Ben said, wrapping a thick audio cable around his hand. ”You and Calloway actually work really well together.”

Audrey completely stopped zipping her bag. She felt a sudden spike of panic.

Did Ben notice the tree incident yesterday? Did he see Mason steal her pen? Did they look too close?

”We’re just pretending,” Audrey said immediately, trying to sound casual.

Ben stopped wrapping the cable. He looked at her. He looked genuinely, completely confused.

”...Pretending what?” Ben asked.

Audrey froze.

She looked at Ben’s blank expression.

Then, it hit her.

Ben had no idea.

The journalism department didn’t care about the campus confession page. They didn’t care about football rumors or cafeteria drama. To Ben and Mrs. Higgins, Audrey was just an intern, and Mason was just a player.

Nobody from journalism knew they were ”dating.” Only the football world believed the rumor.

”Oh,” Audrey said quickly, her face turning bright red. ”Pretending... to like football tactics. I actually hate it.”

”Right,” Ben laughed, throwing the cable into the bag. ”Sure you do. Come on, grab your bag. The bus is waiting.”

Audrey hoisted her heavy camera bag onto her shoulder, following Ben out to the parking lot. The evening air was cool, and the massive university bus was already humming.

As they walked toward the open bus doors, Mason stepped out of the tunnel, walking in the same direction. His duffel bag was slung over his broad shoulder.

He naturally caught up to them right at the bus steps.

”Nice game, Captain,” Ben said casually, stepping aside to let him board first.

Mason gave Ben a brief nod.

Then, without stopping his stride, Mason said, ”Nice analysis.”

Ben smiled, adjusting his camera strap. ”Thanks.”

Mason paused with his foot on the first step of the bus. He looked back over his shoulder. He looked completely confused.

”...Wasn’t talking to you,” Mason said flatly.

He turned around and kept walking up the steps, disappearing into the dark bus.

Ben stood on the pavement. He slowly turned his head toward Audrey.

”...Did the captain just compliment you?” Ben asked, completely bewildered.

Audrey just stood there, clutching her camera bag, her heart doing a completely ridiculous flip in her chest.

”...I think he did,” Audrey whispered.