Arjun could dribble past anyone in Sector 12. Even Class 9 boys couldn’t take the ball from him.

“Pass it, Arjun!” shouted Rohan, waving near the goal. Arjun didn’t pass. He spun past two defenders and shot. The ball hit the post.

“You had me open!” Rohan said.

“I almost scored,” Arjun said, picking up the ball.

Every evening after school, the boys played on the dusty ground behind the housing society. Coach Imran watched from the bench, sipping chai, saying nothing.

Their team, the Sector 12 Tigers, had a match against Green Valley Society in two weeks. Coach Imran picked the starting eleven. Arjun was striker.

“I’m going to score five goals,” Arjun told his friend Karthik on the way home.

“What if Vikram or Rohan get open?” Karthik asked.

“Then I’ll still try to score,” Arjun said, bouncing the ball off the wall.

On match day, Green Valley’s defenders were taller and faster than the Tigers expected. Arjun ran at three of them and lost the ball. He tried again. Lost it again.

By half time, Green Valley led 2-0. The Tigers sat in a circle, quiet, sweaty, annoyed.

“You keep running into three players,” Rohan said. “Pass it. I keep telling you.”

“I can beat them,” Arjun said.

Coach Imran crouched down. “Arjun. Look at Rohan’s left foot. What’s wrong with it?”

Arjun looked. Rohan had a small bandage near his ankle.

“He twisted it Tuesday,” Coach Imran said. “He still came to play for the team. Not for himself.”

Arjun said nothing. He looked at the muddy grass.

Second half started. Arjun got the ball near midfield. Two defenders closed in fast. He saw Rohan open on the left, limping slightly but free.

He passed.

Rohan struck it first time. The ball flew past the keeper. 2-1.

Ten minutes later, Vikram found space on the right. Arjun passed again. Vikram crossed it to Karthik, who headed it in. 2-2.

In the last minute, Arjun got the ball with the goal open. He could have shot. Instead, Rohan was unmarked, two steps closer.

“Rohan!” he shouted, and passed.

Rohan didn’t miss this time. 3-2.

The whistle blew. The Tigers ran toward Rohan, shouting, lifting his arms. Arjun stood a little away, smiling, his shirt soaked with sweat.

Rohan jogged over and bumped his shoulder against Arjun’s. “Good pass,” he said.

“Good finish,” Arjun said.

Coach Imran didn’t say much on the walk back. Just handed Arjun a bottle of water and said, “Same time tomorrow.”

Arjun nodded, already thinking about where he’d pass next time.