Chapter 25: The Rest Day
Daniel gave them exactly one rule for the rest day.
"No baseball," he said at breakfast, pointing his spoon at the whole table. "No batting, no throwing, no film. Light stretching in the morning, and that’s it. Your bodies need a break, and so do your heads."
"What do we do instead?" Joshua asked.
"Watch other sports. Eat. Sleep. Be seventeen." Daniel looked at Rafael. "That one especially."
Rafael almost laughed. "Yes, Coach."
By nine o’clock, the billeting school had emptied. Joshua, Miguel, and Paolo went off to watch a football match, arguing about which team would win. Ethan and Carlo wandered toward the swimming venue, and Nico said something about finding a place that sold fresh coconut. Rafael stood alone at the school gate for a moment, enjoying how strange it felt to have nowhere to be.
Alex Sterling had not had a day like this in twenty years. Even on his off days, there had been training, interviews, or travel. He had forgotten that a day could be empty.
He started walking.
The sports complex was packed. Banners hung over every entrance, and food stalls lined the pathways, selling banana cue, grilled corn, and cups of sweet iced drinks. In one corner, a group of arnis players gave a demonstration, cracking their sticks in a rhythm so fast that a small crowd had gathered to watch. Farther down, the sound of a basketball game echoed from an outdoor court, with shoes squeaking and a referee’s whistle cutting through the noise.
Rafael bought a banana cue and stopped beside the court. Two teams from different divisions were playing, and the score was close. A tall boy leaped for a rebound, and the crowd groaned when the ball bounced out of his hands.
"You said semis."
Rafael turned.
Mia stood beside him with a cup of iced tea in one hand and her hair tied in a loose ponytail. She wore a plain white shirt and shorts instead of her jersey, and for a moment, he almost didn’t recognize her.
"I said semis," she said again, grinning. "You told me you were going to sleep."
"I did sleep. Eleven hours."
"And then you walked straight to a basketball court."
"I wasn’t looking for one. It found me."
"Sure it did."
They both laughed. Mia took a sip of her tea and leaned on the fence, watching the game. "We don’t play until tomorrow afternoon. Coach said no volleyball today, so I told my teammates I’d get some air."
"Same."
"What a coincidence."
"Pure coincidence."
She glanced at him sideways, smiling in a way that made him look away at the court.
"Kuya!"
Lia came running down the path with Jomar trailing behind her, holding a plastic bag of chips. Elena and Tita Cora were walking more slowly, carrying folding chairs and a cooler.
"I told you we’d find you," Lia said, flopping down on the grass. "Mama wanted to see the basketball games."
"Mama likes basketball?"
"Mama likes sitting," Elena said, setting down her chair with a sigh. "Basketball is just the excuse."
Tita Cora spotted Mia and brightened immediately. "And who is this?"
Rafael felt his face warm. "Tita, this is Mia. My friend. We’re neighbors."
"Oh, Mia!" Tita Cora grabbed her hands. "I’ve heard so much about you. Elena says you’re very smart."
Mia’s cheeks turned pink. "That’s... very kind."
"And pretty! Rafael, why didn’t you say she was pretty?"
"Tita."
Lia was laughing so hard she had to cover her mouth. Jomar stared at Mia with wide eyes.
"Are you Kuya Rafa’s girlfriend?"
"Jomar!" Elena said sharply.
"It’s okay," Mia said, laughing. "We’re friends."
"Okay," Jomar said, clearly unconvinced.
They settled on the grass near the court, and Tita Cora opened the cooler to reveal a mountain of boiled corn. Mia sat between Lia and Rafael, and within a few minutes, she and Lia were whispering and giggling like old friends. Rafael tried to focus on the basketball game and failed.
"Do you miss it?"
Mia asked the question quietly, while the others argued about a foul. She was looking at the court, not at him.
"Miss what?"
"Basketball." She turned her head. "You used to talk about it all the time. You’d come to school with a new move you saw on TV and try to teach everyone."
Rafael thought about it. The memory was there, soft and warm, like a photograph. A younger Rafael in the school gym, falling over his own feet while trying a crossover, laughing until his stomach hurt.
"Sometimes," he said. "I do."
"You were terrible, you know."
"I know."
"You couldn’t dribble."
"I could dribble a little."
"You dribbled the ball off your own foot at the school championship."
"That was once!"
"Twice." Mia grinned. "And you didn’t care. You just kept playing."
Rafael smiled slowly. "I think that’s what I liked about it. It wasn’t about being good. It was about being there."
Mia was quiet for a moment. "You’ve changed since the accident."
The words landed softly, but Rafael felt his heart skip.
"Have I?"
"A little. You seem... older. Like you’re thinking about things that most of us don’t think about yet." She picked at a blade of grass. "I’m not saying it’s bad. I like it. I just notice."
Rafael looked at the court and weighed his answer. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but he didn’t want to lie either.
"Maybe I almost lost everything," he said. "And now I don’t want to waste time."
Mia studied him. Then she nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
"Does it?"
"Yes." She smiled. "It’s a good way to be."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The basketball crowd cheered, and Lia screamed at the referee, and the sun climbed higher over the stadium. Rafael realized that somewhere in the last few minutes, he’d stopped feeling like a legend in a teenager’s body. He was just a boy sitting next to a girl on the grass.
It felt good.
"Rafael, come here!"
A group of players from the other division had gathered near the end of the court. A tall one with a towel around his neck waved him over. "You’re the baseball guy, right? From Davao City?"
"That’s me."
"Come on, take a shot. We’re bored."
Rafael looked at Mia. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Go on."
He walked to the free-throw line. Someone tossed him the ball, and the weight of it in his hands felt strangely familiar. His body remembered the grip, the stance, the rhythm. He squared his shoulders, bent his knees, and pushed.
The ball bounced off the front of the rim.
The group groaned. Someone laughed. Rafael caught the rebound, bounced it twice, and tried again.
Rim again.
"Third time’s the charm," Jomar shouted from the grass.
Rafael took a breath. He thought about his legs and the arc and the way Alex had approached every at-bat, one pitch at a time. Not too hard. Not too soft. Just right.
He released.
The ball arced high and dropped through the net with a clean swish.
Everyone cheered. Lia leaped to her feet. Mia clapped with both hands over her head, and Jomar tried to start a chant. The tall boy walked over and slapped Rafael on the back.
"Not bad, baseball guy."
"Thanks."
"Come back when you retire from baseball."
Rafael laughed. "I’ll think about it."
When he returned to the grass, Mia handed him her iced tea without a word. He took a sip and handed it back.
"You made it," she said.
"Third try."
"That’s better than the school championship."
"Yes," Rafael said. "It’s growth."
The afternoon passed slowly, in the best way. They watched a swimming heat, ate far too much, and took photos near a giant DAVRAA banner. Tita Cora told embarrassing stories about Rafael as a little boy, including the time he’d tried to feed a mango to a goat. Mia laughed so hard that she spilled iced tea on her shorts.
At around five, she looked at her phone and sighed.
"Coach wants us back for a meeting."
"Already?"
"We play tomorrow." She stood up and brushed grass off her legs. "Thank you for today."
"I didn’t do anything."
"Exactly." She smiled. "That’s why it was good."
She waved to the others, said a polite goodbye to Elena and Tita Cora, and ruffled Jomar’s hair. Then she turned back to Rafael.
"Good luck tomorrow."
"You too."
"I mean it. Win."
"I’ll try."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "Rafael Santos, you say ’I’ll try’ like you’re not sure."
Rafael almost said it again, then stopped.
"I’ll win," he said.
"Better." She smiled and walked away, her ponytail swinging behind her.
When she was out of sight, Lia nudged him with her elbow.
"Kuya."
"What?"
"She likes you."
"She’s my friend."
"Okay," Lia said sweetly. "Sure."
Elena watched them with a quiet smile. Tita Cora pretended to be busy with the cooler.
That night, the billeting classroom was loud.
The cots were lined up in neat rows, but nobody was sleeping. Joshua sat cross-legged on his cot, throwing a baseball into the air and catching it. Miguel was lying on his back with his arms behind his head, and Paolo was cleaning his catcher’s mitt with a toothbrush.
"I can’t sleep," Joshua said.
"You’ve been awake for sixteen hours," Miguel said.
"That’s the problem. My brain won’t stop."
Rafael sat on his own cot, wrapping a bandage around his wrist, a habit from long ago. He looked at the others. In the weak light of a single lamp, they looked younger than usual.
"Why are you nervous?" he asked.
Joshua threw the ball again. "Because tomorrow decides everything. If we lose to Mati, we could miss the semifinals."
"We won’t lose."
"You don’t know that."
"No." Rafael smiled slightly. "But I know we’re ready."
Paolo stopped cleaning. "How can you be so calm all the time?"
Everyone looked at Rafael. He realized that they’d been wondering this for a long time.
He thought about it, because he wanted to give a real answer.
"I’ve lost before," he said. "A lot, actually. Bad losses. Ones that hurt for weeks."
"You? Lose?" Joshua said.
"More than you’d think." Rafael finished the bandage and flexed his hand. "After a while, I learned that losing doesn’t kill you. It just teaches you where to look next time. So now I’m not afraid of it. I just want to see what happens."
The room was quiet.
"That’s... kind of deep," Miguel said.
"I know. It’s late."
Paolo smiled. "You sound like an old man."
"I get that a lot."
Joshua tossed the ball once more, then caught it and set it down. "Okay. I feel a little better."
"Good."
"Not much better."
"Baby steps."
Miguel laughed. "Go to sleep, Joshua."
"I’m trying."
The door opened, and Daniel stepped in with his clipboard under his arm. He looked around the room, taking in the scattered gloves and the sleepless faces, and let out a long breath.
"Lights out in ten minutes."
"Yes, Coach."
"Mati City tomorrow. Eagles. They don’t hit like Digos or hit like the Thunderbolts. They wait for mistakes." He paused. "Their pitcher, Harvey Mondejar, has a good changeup. Pay attention to it. I’ll go over the rest in the morning."
He looked at Rafael. "You’re awake."
"Yes, Coach."
"Good. I wanted to say something." Daniel hesitated, which was unusual for him. "Today, I watched you with your family. And with that girl."
Rafael blinked. "Coach?"
"I’m not asking questions." Daniel almost smiled. "I’m just saying that I’m glad you took the day off. A player needs more than baseball. Remember that."
"I will."
"Good night."
The door closed behind him. Rafael lay back on his cot and stared at the ceiling.
Across the room, Joshua was already asleep, one arm hanging off the edge. Paolo had stopped talking, and Miguel’s breathing had slowed. In the quiet, Rafael could hear a faint sound of laughter drifting from another classroom.
His phone vibrated on the floor beside him. He picked it up.
Goodnight, champion. Don’t think too much. — Mia
He smiled and typed:
Goodnight. You too.
He set the phone on the floor and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be the last group game, and Harvey Mondejar’s changeup would be waiting. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, his mind was calm.
He fell asleep to the sound of his teammates breathing.
End of Chapter 25