An Uninvited Guest

It was the last day of classes for the week, and in just one day, we had our big match against Riverside High—the same team we played against in the finals. After practice, Ethan and I headed straight to our place.

As we got closer, I noticed something strange. The lights inside were on, and faint noise—TV?—leaked through the door. My steps slowed.

"You sure you locked up before we left?" Ethan asked, his voice low.

"Yeah," I said, frowning.

We exchanged a quick look before Ethan quietly unlocked the door and pushed it open. The smell of food hit me first, and then I spotted him—someone was sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, casually eating fries while flipping through the channels.

For a second, I didn't recognize him. Messy hair, gray t-shirt, tracksuit—

Then it clicked.

"Dylan?" I said, stepping further inside.

Ethan's eyes widened. "Your younger brother? He looks older than us! And taller!"

Dylan barely glanced away from the screen. "Surprised?" he said, chewing.

I sighed, dropping my bag near the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Aren't you heading home this weekend? Figured I'd tag along," he said, voice casual, as if he hadn't just broken into my place like it was his own.

"I'm not going home—we've got plans." I narrowed my eyes. "Why did you come here instead of just going straight home? What's up?"

Dylan shrugged. "You haven't been home once since you transferred. Figured I'd check in. Thought maybe you had a secret girlfriend here or something."

I grabbed a pillow off the couch and chucked it at him. He dodged it with a laugh, setting his fries down. "Kidding, kidding. Some guys from my academy have a game here. They were passing through, so I thought I'd come along, see the city, do some shopping."

Something about his tone made me pause.

I folded my arms. "So why aren't you playing? If your teammates are here, why not join them?"

Dylan hesitated. Just for a second.

"They needed extra players for a match. I was planning to head home this weekend anyway, and I didn't feel like staying back for another game," he said smoothly. "Do I look like I need extra cash?"

Ethan and I exchanged a glance. Something didn't add up.

"Wait," I said slowly. "You said they needed extra players?"

Dylan nodded.

"Ethan, I think Riverside might be bringing in players from Dylan's academy," I muttered.

Ethan's face hardened. "You serious?"

Dylan looked between us, frowning. "Why does this feel like a big deal? It's just a game."

"What players?" I asked, ignoring his question.

Dylan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know all of them, but I'm pretty sure Noah asked Max, Leo, and Mason. They're midfielders. Maybe Liam and Finn for defense, but I don't know if they agreed."

I clenched my jaw. "Noah's their striker, right?"

Dylan gave me a look. "Okay, what is going on? Why are you asking all these questions like you're planning a heist?"

Ethan crossed his arms. "Let's just say this isn't just another game for us."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Fighting words. Alright, fine. I'll keep out of it." He smirked. "Unless you want me on your team."

"Nah, we've got this," I said, forcing a grin. "Just enjoy the city and catch an early bus home tomorrow."

Dylan gave me a long look but didn't push further. Ethan, meanwhile, was already pulling out his phone to text Ryan, Julian, and Logan.

"Dylan, freshen up if you want to join us—we're heading to the mall tonight," I said.

Dylan flashed a thumbs-up, stuffing another fry into his mouth.

The mall buzzed with weekend energy, people swarming the stores as if everything was on sale. We found a spot in the food court, pushing together a couple of tables to fit the crew. Dylan, true to form, had already made a beeline for the food stand, clutching a burger and fries.

Julian leaned back in his chair, sizing up Dylan. Man, I still can't believe you're Daniel's younger brother. Are you sure you're not his older cousin or something?

Before Dylan could answer, Ethan snorted, gesturing at Dylan's silver-dyed hair. Forget that—are you sure you guys are even related? I mean, I know genetics are wild, but damn.

Dylan smirked, running a hand through his black-brown roots blending into the silver strands. What can I say? Some of us have style.

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, and some of us have common sense.

Dylan took a dramatic bite of his burger. And yet, here you are, still looking like my lost twin in bad lighting.

Ryan chuckled, leaning over. So, what's the secret? Protein shakes? Secret ninja training?

Dylan tilted his head, giving a cocky grin. Nah, just good food and staying away from lazy bones like you.

Logan nudged Ethan, a playful grin on his face. Maybe we should recruit Dylan for the team. He's got that intimidation factor.

Ethan smirked. Too bad he's more of a soccer guy. We need height for basketball, not for kicking balls.

Dylan shrugged, still chewing. You never know, maybe I'll switch sports and show you how it's done. I could be the secret weapon!

I laughed, shaking my head. Don't get too comfortable, Dylan. You're still the rookie around here.

Dylan shot back with a mock-serious tone. Sure, but I could take you all down if I wanted to.

Ryan leaned forward, eyes glinting with curiosity. Speaking of taking people down, Dylan, any idea who's playing in that match we've got this Sunday? I heard it's a serious one.

Dylan swallowed and shrugged, a hint of doubt creeping into his expression. Noah's bringing in Max, Leo, and Mason. They're solid players, especially Leo and Mason in midfield. But why does it feel like there's more to it? Is it really that serious?

I quickly interjected, not wanting him to dig deeper. Oh, come on! It's just a game, Dylan. Shake it off.

Ethan smirked, leaning back in his chair. Yeah, don't worry about it. It's not like we're going to be fighting or anything... right? He exchanged a glance with Ryan and Julian, who both snickered.

Dylan raised an eyebrow. Fighting? What do you mean by that?

Julian chimed in, playing along. Oh, you know, just a little sibling rivalry. Daniel's been known to throw a punch or two for a win!

Yeah, right, I shot back, trying to keep a straight face. It's all in good fun. Just focus on your soccer skills, Dylan.

Logan, with a smirk, said, Sure, buddy. Just keep telling yourself that.

Dylan shrugged, still munching on his fries. Alright, if you say so. But I'm still going to keep an eye on you guys. Just in case!

Ethan stretched, looking around at the group. Alright, enough talk about the game. Who's up for some friendly competition in the arcade? Loser buys the next round of snacks.

Dylan's eyes lit up. You're on! I'm about to show you all how a pro handles the sticks.

The arcade was a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and electronic sounds, buzzing with excitement as we stepped inside. It felt like entering another world, where the only rules were to have fun and beat your friends.

Ethan raced ahead, practically bouncing on his feet. "First one to the racing game gets to choose the next snack! Let's go!" He dashed towards the racing machine, leaving a trail of laughter in his wake.

Dylan, determined not to be outdone, took off after him. "Not if I get there first!" he shouted, his competitive spirit igniting as he sprinted past a group of kids.

I followed closely behind, shaking my head with a smirk. "You two are going to tire yourselves out before the snacks even arrive!"

As we reached the racing game, Dylan managed to slide into the seat just ahead of Ethan, who playfully punched his arm. "No fair! You had a head start!"

"Life's not fair, Ethan," Dylan replied, grinning as he started the game. "You snooze, you lose!"

Julian and Logan strolled over, laughing at the chaos. "What's the wager here? Loser buys the drinks?" Julian asked, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"Deal!" Dylan shouted, his eyes focused on the screen as the race began. "And I'm going to crush Ethan!"

The game kicked off with roaring engines and squealing tires. Dylan took an early lead, and the tension in the air was palpable as Ethan tried to catch up.

"You can't be serious! I'm not letting you win this!" Ethan yelled, his fingers furiously tapping the buttons.

The rest of us cheered and shouted, trying to boost Ethan's confidence. "Go, Ethan! You got this!" I shouted, waving my arms as if it would somehow help him speed up.

As the race neared the end, Dylan held a solid lead. But just as he was about to cross the finish line, Ethan pulled off a last-second maneuver that sent him crashing into the wall but miraculously boosted him past Dylan.

"Ha! I win!" Ethan yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

Dylan stared at the screen, disbelief etched on his face. "What just happened? You crashed!"

"Yeah, but it was a strategic crash," Ethan declared, grinning. "I meant to do that!"

"Sure you did," Logan chimed in, rolling his eyes. "All right, time for your punishment, Dylan. Get ready to buy the drinks."

Dylan laughed, shaking his head. "Fine! But next time, I'm bringing my A-game. You'll all regret underestimating me!"

As we moved away from the racing game, Julian and Logan were already planning the next challenge. "Next up, how about some basketball? I heard Ethan's a pro now," Julian teased, giving Ethan a playful nudge.

Ethan smirked. "Just wait until I show you my secret weapon."

The basketball area buzzed with energy, bright lights and the sounds of bouncing balls filling the air. We found a row of basketball machines, and the competitive spirit in our group kicked into high gear.

"Alright, who's first?" I asked, eyeing the machines. "Loser has to do a silly dance in front of everyone!"

"Deal!" Dylan exclaimed, already stretching his arms. "I'm not losing this time. I've been practicing."

Julian stepped up, a confident grin on his face. "Let's see what you've got, Dylan. You think you can outshoot me?"

Ethan leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "This is going to be hilarious. I can already see Dylan dancing like a fool."

With a determined look, Dylan stepped up to the machine. The game started, and he focused intently on the hoop, his shots going in one after another.

"See? I told you I've been practicing!" he bragged, shooting another ball and missing.

"Looks like all that time in the academy was well spent," I teased, nudging Ethan. "What about you? Think you can do better?"

Ethan chuckled, grabbing a ball and spinning it on his fingertip like a pro. With a smug grin, he lined up his shot dramatically.

"Watch and learn, gentlemen," he said, before launching the ball… straight into the side of the rim.

The ball bounced off wildly, nearly smacking Julian in the face.

"Damn, that hoop moved," Ethan said, completely serious.

Julian wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, sure it did."

The group erupted into laughter as Ethan, now determined, took his actual shot. This time, he sank a couple of quick baskets, earning a few impressed cheers.

Dylan watched intently, clearly wanting to redeem himself. "Alright, let me show you how it's done." He stepped back up, this time taking more deliberate shots. With each swish of the net, his confidence grew.

As the scores climbed, the competitive atmosphere intensified.

"Come on, Dylan! Let's see if you can keep that lead!" Julian encouraged, bouncing on his toes.

Just as Dylan was about to take his final shot, Ethan called out, "Hey, Dylan! What about that secret ninja training you mentioned earlier? Isn't that supposed to give you an edge?"

Dylan couldn't help but laugh as he released the ball. It swooshed through the net perfectly.

"I guess it works! But just remember, I'm not a ninja. I'm a soccer player, too. You know, I might have to switch sports if this keeps up!"

"Yeah, right! You'd still trip over your own feet in soccer," I joked, elbowing him playfully.

"Alright, alright! I'm gonna take this round!" Dylan declared, stepping back for his last shot. He aimed carefully and launched the ball with all his might. It hit the backboard and bounced away.

"Classic rookie move!" Ethan laughed, giving Dylan a light shove. "That's going to cost you the dance!"

With the scores tallied, it was clear that Ethan had won.

"Yes! Time for your dance, Dylan!" he announced, a smirk plastered across his face.

"Fine! But you better be ready to join me," Dylan said, hands on his hips, pretending to glare.

With everyone encouraging him, Dylan sighed, cracked his knuckles, and then… completely lost it. He flailed his arms like a malfunctioning robot, spun around so fast he almost tripped, and ended with an exaggerated moonwalk attempt that looked more like he was being dragged backward.

Julian doubled over. "Oh my god, my stomach hurts!"

Ethan wiped away fake tears. "This is the greatest thing I've ever seen."

Ryan shouted, "You call that dancing? I think my grandma moves better than you!"

"Hey! At least I'm trying!" Dylan retorted, joining in on the laughter.

As the laughter echoed around us, I felt grateful for moments like these—filled with friendly rivalry, laughter, and memories we'd cherish long after the weekend was over.

As we stepped out of the mall, the night air was crisp, but our energy still lingered.

"I still can't believe that 'strategic crash' actually worked," Dylan muttered, shaking his head.

"That's because you underestimate my genius," Ethan grinned.

"Right, your genius in crashing into walls," Logan quipped.

With one last wave, we turned to head toward our house, still laughing and teasing each other as we walked away.