The Adventurer Amazed by New Wonders
Haley stared at Yohan with a look of pure disbelief as he thrust a flip phone toward her face.
"What is this?"
"A cell phone."
"People still have these? I've never seen anyone use one."
"I see old guys with them sometimes."
"Well, I never have."
"That's a shame."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You wanna die?"
"Ah..."
"Just try saying it isn't."
"Um... I want to live."
"Why?"
"Well... it's kind of an awkward day to die?"
Maybe Yohan's habit of inventing any excuse on the spot was what got her. Haley snorted, then clapped him on the shoulder like one of the guys.
"I'll let it slide this once. Did you save my number?"
"I did."
"Can that thing do speed dial?"
"Yeah."
"Then I'm number one, right?"
"You're number six."
The number that tumbled out of Yohan's mouth — so far down the list from first — made Haley's eyebrows twist into a scowl.
"Number six? Why so far back?"
"One through four are the nuns. Five is Aunt Carrie. Then you. Among my friends, you're number one — so isn't that a good thing?"
She didn't like it, but she had to admit it made sense. Five older people Yohan considered family sat ahead of her on the list, which left Haley with precious little room to argue.
"Hmm... fine. I'll let it go for now."
"How was America?"
"Fine."
Haley wanted to go back to America for good. She didn't have a single friend over there, yet the simple fact that life felt better was enough reason for her to want to leave this place behind.
From Yohan's perspective, it made no sense. People needed people to live. She had plenty of friends here — so why wasn't every day enjoyable?
Curiosity stirred, but Yohan deliberately left the subject alone. Everyone had their own idea of paradise. If Haley's wish was to go back, there was nothing to be done about it.
"I'm going out to meet Emma and the others today. Want to come?"
"You haven't even been back a full day. Aren't you tired?"
"Not really?"
"Your stamina's crazy... When I came back from volunteer work, I was laid out for like three days."
"Maybe your stamina just sucks? How are you supposed to play that soccer you love so much?"
"I can."
"That energetic answer is hilarious. Anyway — are you coming or not?"
"I'm not."
"Reason?"
"I want to rest. No active stuff for a while."
"Not even soccer?"
"That I have to do."
"That doesn't make any sense. Soccer is active stuff."
As Haley grew older, conversations with her sometimes left Yohan completely tongue-tied. The old threats of You wanna die? had grown rarer, replaced more and more often by logical rebuttals that left him with nothing to say.
"Fine. I'll rephrase — no active stuff except soccer."
"You're such an idiot. Then maybe I'll just stay and watch a movie in bed with you today."
"Didn't you already make plans?"
"No."
"Then why did you talk like you had?"
"Because if I say so, then I do. When I call, they come out."
"Isn't that a little selfish?"
"What are you talking about. Come here."
Haley hopped onto the bed, leaned her back against the wall, and patted the spot beside her. Before America, she would have gotten annoyed and told him to scoot over if he sat too close — but now she was acting as easygoing as she used to long ago.
Are all girls like this? It was a mystery he couldn't begin to unravel.
"Isn't it nice having your big sister take care of you?"
Yohan settled onto the spot she'd indicated, and she fussed over him in a voice like she was cooing at a child. He shrugged.
"I dunno."
"You dunno? Without me, you'd have been stuck sleeping in that boring convent with nothing to do. You know that, right?"
"I'm allowed to be here."
"And who gave you permission?"
"Aunt Carrie. And the convent isn't boring."
"I misspoke. I didn't mean boring — I meant dull."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"Totally different. If I say boring, it sounds like I'm insulting the nuns."
"You overthink a lot."
"What's with that tone like you're surprised?"
"I was complimenting you. If you take it that way, I'm pretty hurt."
"Your tone is more hurtful."
"I'm sad you felt that way."
"Stop making that pitiful face out of nowhere. That doesn't work anymore."
"I really am sad, and saying that just makes me sadder."
"Why are you always sad about something? You wanna die?"
Haley glared. Yohan took in her scrunched-up face, then slowly turned his gaze toward the TV. She reached for his leg to pinch him — and her eyes went round.
"What is this?"
"What?"
"Why is it so hard? Is that muscle?"
"Yeah."
"You've been working out?"
"Obviously. I train every day when I go to the club... okay, stop touching. It tickles."
"Are you fast?"
"Yeah."
"A turtle, fast?"
"I'm not a turtle anymore. I'm a wolf."
"Why a wolf of all things? If you're talking about speed, shouldn't it be a cheetah?"
"Wolves are cool."
"You're such a dummy."
Haley snickered and started flipping through the movie list. She was too scared of horror films to even watch them properly, yet every title she scrolled past featured ghosts or monsters or something of the sort.
Has her taste gotten a little weird?
That was Yohan's thought as he watched Haley already wincing at the trailer-like preview scenes.
Serie A's youth talent was famous for being higher quality than that of other national leagues. The somewhat unusual revenue structure meant clubs couldn't throw around huge sums of money, so they invested instead in youth squads — which cost relatively less. That was the result.
Among such resources, any gem that stood out inevitably had its reputation spread by word of mouth.
Among the current Serie A prospects, the two most famous were a pair of monsters from Lazio and Milan. Prominent and promising agents from every country had already made their approaches, and even foreign clubs were showing interest. Despite the difficulty of international transfers for underage players, they were salivating over any method that might make a signing possible.
Those two were so famous that attention had drifted somewhat away from him — but Yohan's reputation was steadily building all the same. He had only made it as far as the quarterfinals, yet his performances in the cup matches had drawn interest from agents and scouts from German clubs.
The agents in particular were moving aggressively to lock down a contract with a player who showed real promise — asking club insiders they were close with to introduce them to Yohan, showing up at matches, or even loitering around the area after learning he lived at a convent.
They never went to the convent itself or called, though. They knew better. If a fundamentally quiet religious facility got noisy, they could imagine exactly how that would reflect on them. Moreover, their research had already told them about Yohan's personality — so even agents burning with hunger for a new signing wouldn't do anything that lowered their odds of landing a contract.
"Just introduce me, will you? I've never forced a Roma player into a transfer, and even when a player got unhappy, I've always talked them into staying with the club. Wouldn't it be better for him to come to me than get snatched up by some other agent?"
"I've had ties with Roma for a full ten years. The club knows better than anyone which players I handle. Please — arrange a meeting with this Yohan kid."
While Yohan's immediate surroundings remained quiet, the club was dealing with a nuisance. Several agents close to the organization kept hounding them for an introduction to Yohan.
Most people assumed clubs hated agents. Especially the so-called super agents — the ones who engineered massive transfers and pocketed jaw-dropping commissions. From a player's perspective they were angels who delivered huge benefits; from a club's perspective they were the devil incarnate.
But plenty of agents built close working relationships with clubs. When a club needed to source promising talent, they would share player profiles with an agent and ask for recommendations. When the First Team needed a certain position filled, they would look among the players an agent managed for anyone open to a move. And whether it was a youth squad or the senior team, when a player needed to be sent elsewhere, smooth talks with an agent often made the process far easier.
Having an agent around could turn difficult work into something more manageable — so the relationship between clubs and agents was never purely antagonistic.
"I'll talk to the club about it."
In any case, Roma didn't ignore these approaches entirely. From the club's perspective, it was better to have an agent they were friendly with — someone willing to make certain concessions — than one who only ever thought from the player's side during negotiations.
The ideal situation would have been for Yohan to fall under the club's complete management with no agent at all. But in this day and age that almost never happened, and the absence of a representative created enough inconvenience for both the player and the club that the idea was never even put on the table.
And Yohan, who knew nothing whatsoever about any of this, was currently saying:
"Whoa... you can even lie down?"
In the middle of the season, Christmas holidays had arrived, and he was headed to New York. Now he was staring at the business-class seats on the plane in pure wonder.
"You're amazed by this?"
"How am I supposed to not be amazed?"
Even the private lounge at Rome's airport had left his eyes wide — he hadn't known airports had places like that. And now he could spend a ten-hour flight lying down. It was almost too incredible.
"You'd pass out if you ever flew first class."
"Have you?"
"Yeah. I flew first class just this past summer break."
"Whoa... that's insane... What's this? Headphones? They just give you these?"
"Can you stop looking like such a country bumpkin and sit down?"
"Why do I have to hold back my feelings? Amazing is amazing."
"You've gotten big enough to talk back now? You're in the seat next to me. You know that, right?"
The implication was clear: step out of line and she would make his life miserable. The thought of listening to Haley's complaints for the entire flight sent a sudden wave of exhaustion through Yohan, and he clicked his tongue without thinking.
"Ugh."
"What was that? Did you just sigh?"
"Ah. Mistake."
"Mistake...? So that means you were cursing me out on the inside?"
"How on earth do you get to that conclusion?"
"You're dead."
"Since the day I met you, I have never cursed you — not out loud, not in my head."
"Which means you did before you met me."
"No. I just got flustered and said it wrong. I have never cursed you. Not once."
"You're dead."
"Ugh."
"There you go again...? You are seriously the funniest kid."
"I'm sorry."
"That train has left the station. Meaning you're too late."
"Ugh."
"Wow... I think my face is going to turn bright red."
"Why? Are you embarrassed?"
"Because I'm angry, you idiot...!"
"Keep it down. Cause a scene on a plane and they'll make you get off."
"I know that better than you do, okay? Fine. Got it. I'll deal with you later."
Haley dropped into her seat in a huff and snorted through her nose. She was getting angry at herself for being overwhelmed by Yohan's pure, honest reactions — a scene Caroline had witnessed countless times.
Lately Yohan had been unintentionally getting the better of Haley more often than not. Watching her stamp on her own foot and seethe was, from a mother's perspective, genuinely funny.
Sitting in the row ahead, savoring the champagne she'd requested from the flight attendant, Caroline cast a sidelong glance at Haley grinding her teeth.
She had clearly matured so much compared to before. And yet — why did she still look like nothing more than a little kid in Caroline's eyes?
Olivia had always said Caroline still looked young to her, and only now was Caroline beginning to understand what it meant when people said that to a parent, a child is always a baby no matter how big they get.
For about two years now, she had felt the same way about Yohan. Listening to their childish brother-and-sister banter from such close range might have been amplifying the feeling.
Those two are going to be kids even when they grow up.
In her eyes, they would always be children. And looking at the way they behaved, maybe other people would see it that way too. With that thought, Caroline sank back into her seat and settled in for a comfortable rest.