Ghost Bird Fanfiction: Sang's Lyric, The Story of Sang Sorenson's Mother

Soccer Player

Taylor was a really good soccer player. I expected him to play offense, but he didn't. He was sweeper, the last defender between the other team's offense and the goalkeeper. It was a position that fit Taylor. He was a protector. At least, he had been for me. There was something about watching him stop potential goals that tightened my stomach and filled me with nervous energy. He was utterly focused, watching passes and keeping track of the ball. He was thoughtful and strategic, which also surprised me. He seemed like he would be more spontaneous. But when I thought back on the boys, it was Kell who seemed to act fast, to let his emotions guide his actions, and it was Taylor who waited for his moment.

The team was scrimmaging. Keefe was striker, and the ball consistently moved up to him so he could score against the other team. I hated to admit it, but Keefe was good. The ball was kicked back to Taylor so he could move it up the field. I watched transfixed, even forgetting momentarily that Kell was next to me. I could see a winger was free way on the right, while the other side was blocking Keefe in. But Taylor didn't pass it to him. He adjusted his position, drew his foot back and sent the ball straight up the middle. Keefe just had time to turn his head, taking note of the other players, when the ball nailed him in the temple. His head snapped back. I gasped, and saw Kell wince next to me before his half smile appeared, along with his dimple. My hand covered my mouth and I stared worriedly at Taylor.

"He won't get in trouble, will he?" I asked under my breath.

"Keefe!" I heard the coach yell. "It's not a goddamn picnic! Get your head up and pay attention to where the ball's going!"

"No," Kell said to me, the dimple deepening. "I don't think he will."


I pulled my hand from my mouth and clenched it tightly with my other one.

I didn't take my eyes away from Taylor, thinking that as long as I watched him, I could somehow protect him as well. He caught me watching and winked at me, and I couldn't stop the giggle that escaped my lips.

"Curtis!" Keefe hissed as they jogged in for a water break.

 I stood up, watching the boys closely. I narrowed my eyes at Keefe.  Don't you come close to him, I thought, surprising myself.

"You better watch yourself," he finished.

Taylor grabbed a water bottle. He didn't look at Keefe, instead holding my gaze. "I think that's my line, man," he said carelessly, tossing his bottle back on the ground and running back to the field.

Keefe turned away, and I look down quickly. When I flicked my eyes up again, I see him still staring at me, a look of hate curling his lips before his image was obscured completely by Kell's back.

"Time to go, Priya," Kell said, grasping my hand lightly and leading me to the parking lot. "We're going to pick up dinner and meet James and Tay at home."

I nodded, mentally calculating how much money I had in my backpack and wondering where we could go. Dollar menu at McDonald's, yes. Pizza, no.

I followed Kell to his bike, and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way we could pick up pizza while he was on a motorcycle.

He took my backpack and stuffed it in the saddlebag, then pulled out a helmet. This one was different from the one I wore yesterday. It was smaller, and all black except for a silver heart on the back.

"Let's see if this one fits," Kell said, waiting for me to tie my hair back before gently easing the helmet on my head. He let me fasten the chin strap before grabbing his own helmet and putting it on his head. He took his leather coat off again and put it on me, zipping it up to my neck.

He flipped his visor up so he could see me. I couldn't see his mouth, but his eyes crinkled at the sides. "Perfect fit," he said. "I knew it was meant for you."


I swallowed, "You bought this for me?" I asked.

"You can't ride the bike without a helmet," he said, getting on and starting it. He looked over his shoulder at me, waiting for me to climb on.

I didn't hesitate, wrapping my arms around his waist and squeezing him briefly in thanks. His hand gripped one of mine and squeezed in response. I bit my lip under the helmet, and we roared off.