SWNOVELXO Chapter 33: The Call-Up
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Chapter 33 – The Call-Up
February 13, 2015
João Félix woke up to his phone buzzing under his pillow.
At first, he thought it was a dream. Then he heard the vibration again—louder this time, like a bee stuck in his ear.
He groaned, checked the screen, and blinked against the early morning light.
Miguel Luís [6:41 AM]:
Check your email, bro. NOW.
João frowned, still half-asleep.
From the other side of the room, Hugo yawned. "What's happening?"
"Dunno yet," João mumbled, tapping his phone. "But Miguel's either won the lottery or we're all getting expelled."
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When João opened his email, his eyes locked on the subject line:
"CONVOCAÇÃO – SELEÇÃO NACIONAL SUB-16"
Call-up. Portugal U16.
For a second, he just sat there staring, brain buffering.
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"João?" Hugo said, sitting up in his bunk. "What is it?"
João finally smiled, his heartbeat doubling.
"I'm in, Hugo," he whispered. "National team."
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By breakfast, the whole academy buzzed with it.
Rafael Leão bounced into the cafeteria wearing a ridiculous grin. "Did you get it?"
João nodded, still holding his phone like it might disappear.
"Miguel too?" Rafa asked.
João tilted his head toward the other side of the room where Miguel Luís stood, phone in hand, mouthing "Let's go!" like he was celebrating a penalty shootout.
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Tiago laughed as he sat down with his tray. "National team, huh? Guess you'll have to start passing now."
João smirked. "I pass."
"Not when I'm open."
"You're never open."
Hugo cut in, eyes wide. "Do I get called up too?"
Rafa ruffled his hair. "Sure, kid. U12 World Cup, maybe."
"Better than nothing," Hugo muttered, stuffing his face with toast.
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At training, Coach Martins pulled João, Rafa, and Miguel aside.
"This is a big step," Martins said, crossing his arms. "You're not just Sporting players now. You're representing Portugal."
Rafa grinned. "Easy."
Coach's eyebrow shot up. "Easy? Good. Then you won't mind the extra running."
Rafa's grin vanished. João laughed.
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They trained hard that day, but João's mind kept drifting.
National team camp.
A Portugal jersey with his name on it.
It wasn't just about being seen anymore. It was about being trusted to carry the shirt. Represent the country. Fail in front of more people.
Great.
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After training, João sat on the sidelines, tying his laces, when Leandro Tipote walked by.
Leandro, already a U17 standout, gave João a nod.
"Congrats, Félix," he said, voice cool as always. "Don't screw it up."
João grinned. "Thanks for the pep talk."
Leandro shrugged. "That's me. Mr. Positivity."
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That night, in the dorm, João texted his dad.
João:
Got called to Portugal U16.
Carlos Sequeira:
Proud of you, filho. But stay focused.
João smiled at the screen. He already knew the next message.
Carlos Sequeira:
And eat more. You're still too skinny.
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Hugo sat cross-legged on the floor, tossing a ball against the wall.
"I'll be there soon," Hugo said, eyes locked on the ball.
João leaned back in bed, arms crossed behind his head.
"You better," he said, smirking. "Someone's got to carry the bags."
Hugo threw the ball at his head.
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For the first time in months, João let himself feel it—a real smile, the weight of pressure mixing with something lighter.
This wasn't the end. But it was definitely the next step.
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