19: The Weight of Choice

Carlos sat on the rooftop of his apartment building, his legs dangling over the edge as the city buzzed below him. Chico rested beside him, the worn leather ball a comforting presence as his mind churned with doubt. His trial performance had been a success, but the future it unlocked felt less certain than ever.

Herrera's words echoed in his ears: "Opportunities like this don't wait."

His mamá's voice broke through his thoughts. "Carlos, dinner's ready!"

"I'll be down soon!" he called back, though he had no appetite.

He glanced at the small piece of paper Navarro had given him earlier in the day—a contact for an old friend in the football world who might offer advice. Carlos reached for his flip phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing the number.

The call connected after a few rings. "This is Raul Morales."

"Uh, hello, Mr. Morales. My name is Carlos Vargas. Coach Navarro said I could talk to you about an opportunity I've been offered."

There was a pause. "Carlos. Navarro mentioned you. He said you're talented. What's on your mind?"

Carlos explained everything—the trial, the scouts, and the doubts gnawing at him about Herrera.

Raul's voice was calm but firm. "Herrera's reputation is... complicated. He has an eye for talent, but he's focused on results above all else. If you succeed, he'll open doors for you. But if you falter, don't expect him to stick around. You need to ask yourself: Are you ready to handle that kind of pressure?"

"I think I can be," Carlos said, though his voice wavered.

"Then here's my advice: don't make decisions out of fear or haste. Take control of your journey. The right opportunity won't force you to compromise who you are."

Carlos thanked him, feeling a small measure of clarity as he ended the call.

The next morning, Carlos found himself at the park, running drills with Chico to clear his head. He had until the end of the week to decide whether to join Atlético Gran Rey's academy, but every touch of the ball seemed to weigh heavier than the last.

As he practiced, Sofia arrived, a concerned look on her face.

"Carlos, you've been quiet since the trial," she said. "What's going on?"

He hesitated but decided to open up. "It's this offer. Herrera says it's my shot, but something feels... off. I don't know if I'm ready to leave yet."

Sofia crossed her arms, considering his words. "I get it. But you've worked so hard for this. Maybe it's scary because it's real now. What does your gut tell you?"

Carlos sighed. "That I need to be sure before I make the leap."

"Then trust yourself," Sofia said with a small smile. "You're not just talented, Carlos. You're smart. You'll figure it out."

Her words gave him a sliver of confidence, but the decision still loomed large.

Later that evening, as Carlos returned home, he found Diego leaning against the stairwell.

"Took you long enough," Diego said, a rare seriousness in his tone.

"What do you want, Diego?" Carlos asked, too tired to deal with his rival's usual jabs.

"I wanted to tell you something," Diego said. "About Herrera."

Carlos froze, his curiosity piqued. "What about him?"

Diego leaned closer, lowering his voice. "He approached me before he found you. Told me I'd never make it unless I did things his way. When I pushed back, he dropped me without a second thought. I know you're better than me, Carlos, but don't think he won't do the same to you if things don't go perfectly."

Carlos stared at him, shocked. "Why are you telling me this?"

Diego shrugged. "Because as much as I hate to admit it, you've got a real chance. Just don't let Herrera decide your future for you."

Before Carlos could respond, Diego walked off, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

That night, Carlos sat at the kitchen table with his mamá. He finally told her about Herrera's offer, the trial, and the doubts swirling in his mind.

"Carlos, mijo," she said softly, placing a hand on his. "I've always told you to follow your dreams, but never at the cost of your happiness or values. If this is the right path, you'll know it in your heart."

Carlos nodded, her words resonating deeply.

The next day, Carlos made his way to Herrera's office in the heart of the city. The sleek, modern building felt intimidating as he stepped inside. Herrera greeted him with his usual charm, motioning for him to sit.

"Carlos," Herrera began, "I trust you've had time to think about my offer. Are you ready to take the next step?"

Carlos hesitated, his heart pounding. "I've thought about it a lot. And I've decided... I'm not ready to join the academy yet."

Herrera's expression remained calm, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Not ready? Carlos, opportunities like this don't come often. You're making a mistake."

Carlos took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Maybe. But I need to be sure I'm ready for this level. I won't waste an opportunity like this by rushing in unprepared."

Herrera leaned back, studying him. After a moment, he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Very well, Carlos. I'll respect your decision—for now. But don't expect me to wait forever."

As Carlos left the office, a sense of relief washed over him. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he was in control of his destiny.

He didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: he would face it on his terms.