“It won’t interfere with your part-time job. We only have team training twice a week.”

“But I need to make money…”

“If you pass the trial, you can sign a part-time contract with the club and get paid every week.”

“But I don’t have a work permit…”

“We’re an amateur team, playing in amateur matches. There’s no need for a work permit issued by the FA.”

“Why are you looking for me? You have so many fans, there must be plenty of people willing to join, right? If I remember correctly, weren’t there two players from the Wimbledon youth team in the team we played against a few days ago?”

“You can never have too many people who can play football. They’re them, you’re you. I think you play pretty well, and I hope you’ll give it a try.”

Brian Carter opened his mouth, but suddenly couldn’t think of any more reasons. Emily Clark looked at him triumphantly.

“I don’t like playing football.” In the end, he could only say this to Emily Clark with a fierce tone.

Emily Clark shook her head, not believing him: “If you didn’t like football, would you have played in that match?”

Brian Carter suddenly started laughing: “That’s because there was money involved. My classmate told me you could get fifty pounds for playing a match, so I went. Who would play in that kind of crappy match if there was no money?” He said this fiercely, completely from the heart, with genuine emotion, because he really did think it was a “crappy match.” After speaking, he pointed at his feet, “I work here. In two hours, I can earn nine pounds. If there’s no money to be made, why would I go?”

Emily Clark hadn’t expected things to be like this. She looked at Brian Carter in surprise, then furrowed her golden willow-leaf eyebrows. Judging from Brian Carter’s expression, she felt he was telling the truth.

Seeing that she didn’t bring up football anymore, Brian Carter also kept quiet, feeling a bit smug as he watched Emily Clark from the side, thinking that finally this inexplicable woman wouldn’t bother him anymore. Play football? Haven’t I lost enough already? All I want now is to work and study, graduate in four years, find a decent job, and then… well, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Why bother thinking about something so far off?

After a while, Emily Clark said to Brian Carter, “Alright, whether you want to or not, it’s still nice to run into a classmate here.”

“We’re classmates?” Brian Carter was a bit surprised.

“Once September comes, we will be.” Emily Clark smiled. “I’m in the Drama and Performance Department at Wimbledon School of Art.”

As she spoke, she reached out her hand to Brian Carter: “We’re schoolmates. If you ever have any trouble, you can come to me.” She introduced herself again. “My name is Emily Clark Stein. Just call me Emily Clark, or Amy. Nice to meet you, Carter.”

Brian Carter reached out and shook her hand, feeling that it was warm and soft.

He looked up at Emily Clark in front of him. If she didn’t keep bringing up football, she really was a lovely girl. But right now, he hoped he’d never see her again.

“I’m glad to meet you too, as long as you don’t bring up joining the team again…”

Chapter Five: Two Sides of a Coin (Part One)

Brian Carter thought his life would get back on track, and that he’d never see that so-called Princess Duns again. Even though she was beautiful, every time she saw him she’d bring up joining the team, which really gave him a headache.

But just a couple of days later, Emily Clark Stein came bouncing over to him again.

She brought news about a fundraising drive, and also brought something that gave Brian Carter another headache.

“I asked Harris, and he said that match was voluntary and unpaid. No one got any money, let alone a fifty-pound appearance fee per match.” Emily Clark looked at Brian Carter with a mischievous smile, seeing how embarrassed he was after being caught in a lie.

“So you really do like playing football, don’t you?”

“I don’t.” Brian Carter said with a sullen face.

“You’re lying.”

“Did I lie to you about getting paid?” Brian Carter found it funny—why would he lie to a stranger?

“Why is it always about money with you? You’re so materialistic…” Emily Clark pouted.

“Your Highness the Princess,” Brian Carter pointed at the glass of stout next to Emily Clark, “That thing costs four pounds. Could you drink it if you didn’t have money?” Then he pointed at the patrons discussing how to donate, “Aren’t you all trying to start a new club? Can you do it without money? It’s not that I’m materialistic, it’s that the world is.”

Although she didn’t like Brian Carter’s attitude, she had to admit he had a point. The world does run on money—without it, you can’t even survive, let alone talk about anything else.

But…

“But besides money, shouldn’t there be something else to pursue? Like ideals or something… By the way, Carter, do you have any ideals?”

Brian Carter didn’t answer Emily Clark’s question right away. He fell into deep thought.

Ideals… I do have them, but that was during the ten years before three years ago. Ever since I started formally learning football at age six, I had an ideal. Actually, it couldn’t even be called an ideal back then—just a vague idea. Later, as I grew older and saw more of the world, it slowly became an ideal.