Zachary woke up quite late the morning after the Aalesunds game. He was suffering from post-match fatigue and wished he could just lay in bed all day without a care for anything in the world.

He stretched out an arm and picked his phone from the bedside table. When he switched it on to check the time, he was startled to find out that it was already past eleven in the morning. For the first time since arriving in Norway, he'd broken his routine and woken up late due to sheer exhaustion.

The previous night, they'd left the Color Line Stadion in Ålesund when it was already 9:00 PM since the match against Aalesunds Fotballklubb had ended a few minutes past 8:00 PM. The journey back by bus had taken more than five hours. They'd only managed to arrive at Lerkendal close to three in the morning. Although Zachary had played less than thirty minutes in the game, he still felt dog tired because of the long journey and going to bed late. He didn't feel like doing anything that day.

He felt like he had a hungover and yearned to dislocate his spirit from his body—just to let his soul go wherever souls go to be Zen. Then he wouldn't have to feel the brunt of the exhaustion he'd accumulated from the previous day's exertions.

However, he knew he couldn't give in to the temptation of closing his eyes and entering dreamland once again. He understood he had to go through his post-match recovery routine immediately—so that he could ready himself for the next Rosenborg fixture on Wednesday.

So, he forced himself to get out of bed and begrudgingly started doing the needful. He understood he had to put in a lot of sweat, effort, and determination if he needed to improve his skills quickly. He couldn't just depend on the system.

So, he went through his post-match yoga routine to stretch his sore muscles, took a cold bath, and then destroyed a sumptuous breakfast in a matter of minutes. A little while later, he washed up and settled in a sofa to relax. He'd recovered to some extent and regained some energy to face the day. But he was at a loss of what to do for the next few hours.

Coach Johansen had given all the players who'd participated in the match a compulsory free day that Sunday. He had insisted that every player take the day off to rest and only return to training the following Monday. So, Zachary didn't need to go to either the gym or the training ground that day. But since he was so used to practicing all the time, he couldn't decide—how to use the compulsory free time.

Bzzt Bzzzt! Bzzt Bzzzt!

His phone vibrated on the nearby table as he was still thinking about his dilemma. He picked it up and glanced at the screen. It was Marta Romano, his former classmate, calling. He let it continue vibrating, hoping that the caller at the other end would get the impression he wasn't available at the moment. He didn't want to deal with Marta, especially with the fatigue he was battling that morning. Nevertheless, Marta didn't stop calling until he was—forced to pick up on the third time around.

"Hello, Marta," Zachary spoke into the phone, leaning back into the sofa and crossing his legs on the table. "Long time, no see," he added.

"Hello, Zachary," Marta's voice, colored by an Italian accent, said from the other side of the line. "Yes, it has been quite a few months since we linked up. So, can we meet up, maybe at City Syd? And don't try to turn me down by claiming that you have training. I know for sure that players are given days off after playing away games."

Zachary could only smile wryly. "Okay then, let's link up at City Syd for a coffee," he said. If he had to be honest with himself, he would admit he wanted to see Marta once again.

They'd been acquaintances ever since they'd joined the Trøndelag International School for their upper secondary education. She'd even tutored him whenever he found hardships in some subjects. However, things started going south and awkward between them when Marta's disposition, especially when around him, took an unexpected turn.

The previous year, just after the Riga Cup, Marta had been so forward with him, trying to express her feelings. Zachary, of course, was tempted by her advances since it somehow felt good to be chased after by a beautiful and charming girl who was also easygoing.

But every time Zachary was about to take that last step, there was always a voice in his head, dissuading him from complicating his relationship with the girl. It was similar to the inner voice he'd always heard—back when he was about to do something wrong during his younger years.

At one time, he'd almost stealthily stolen a spoon of sugar from his grandma's stash, but the voice had appeared and discouraged him from going ahead with the deed. He'd experienced a similar situation when he thought about becoming intimate with Marta.

Moreover, he wasn't so head over heels for her that he would ignore his base instincts. So, he'd created some distance between them and tried to maintain their just-friends connection. But Marta hadn't been dissuaded by Zachary's offhandish behavior at the time. Instead, she'd upped her attempts at flirting with him. Zachary had felt a bit uncomfortable at the time—that he outright started avoiding her. But he still missed her company.

"Zach, are you still there?" Marta queried, her voice rising slightly.

"Yes, of course," Zachary replied, recollecting his thoughts. For a moment there, he'd lost himself in the not-so-good old days. "What time should we link up?" He inquired after a moment.

"Let's say 2:30 PM," Marta replied. "Is that okay on your side?"

"That's okay with me."

"Then great," Marta said excitedly. "See you in thirty minutes, then."

Thirty minutes later, the two of them sat opposite each other in one of the coffee shops at City Syd. They sat in silence for a while, with neither trying to break the ice.

"Would you like to have anything," a waitress came up to their table and asked.

"A coffee would be nice," Zachary replied, inclining his head and flashing a smile at the waitress. He was thankful for her timely interruption to break the awkward moment.

"Anything to eat?" The waitress probed, smiling back.

"I'll have a sour cream coffee cake. Also, add on a few bacon strips. Thank you."

"And what will you be having, miss?" She asked, turning towards Marta on the other side of the table.

"The same as he's having," Marta replied, flashing her a brief smile.

"Okay, your order will be coming up in a minute or two," the waiter replied before walking away.

As soon as the waiter departed, the same awkward silence from before descended on their table once again. The silent atmosphere around their table at that moment was too nerve-wracking.

"How have you been?" Zachary said, wishing to put a halt to the awkward moment.

"Same as always," Marta replied, a smile that seemed forced rather than natural, outlining her face. But her brown eyes that matched well with her dark hair made her look more beautiful, nevertheless. "And you?" She queried after a moment.

"I have been doing okay," Zachary replied, wishing more than anything to make the atmosphere between them less awkward. "I'm now playing for the senior team. I guess I'm partway to fulfilling some of my dreams."

Marta smiled more naturally that time around. "I watched your game on TV with my sister. That was some incredible performance you put up—out there against Aalesunds. Your two goals were out of this world. They're even becoming a sensation on social media." She sighed and then smiled.

"Oh," Zachary said, first at a loss of what to say in reply to all the compliments. But he seemed to remember his manners a moment later and added: "Thank you. I only tried doing my best in the game, and things just worked out."

When they started talking about football, the conversation started flowing more naturally. For a while, the two discussed Rosenborg, the Tippeligaen, the Norwegian Football Cup, and even the upcoming Europa League. A little bit afterward, the waitress brought their orders, and they ate while continuing their discussion. That way, half an hour passed by in a flash, and they seemed to have covered everything that they could about the current news in football. The awkward atmosphere returned to the table once again.

"By the way," Marta said, breaking the awkwardness that time around. "I wanted to meet you to tell you something." She had an air of melancholy about her like she was about to deliver some bad news.

"Oh." Zachary creased a brow, wondering whatever it was Marta wanted to discuss. He couldn't help but wonder whether she was about to suggest that they try going out first and then cultivate their feelings together at a later stage.

"It's not what you're thinking," Marta hurriedly said, seeming to have read his mind. "I only wanted to meet you to say my goodbyes. I'm leaving Trondheim soon. I'll be leaving tomorrow, for good." She added, sighing.