That One Shot

The Whole Shebang

    "Because I have family in the hospitals around here.  And my aunt thought that it might be best to be in close proximity to all of them," his gaze fixed on something in the distance and his eyes revealed the slightest pain. Quickly censoring his expression he focused on our discussion.  "Two: why is a girl like you playing on a boys' soccer team?"  I laughed.

    "Well, there's a long story and a short story. Which are you in the mood for right now?"

    "The long," he yawned. "I got nothin' better to do."

    "Okay. You asked for it," I paused to gather my thoughts. "So, from the other guys on the team, you know I have a brother, right? And a sister.  Well, my brother was in a hunting accident and had to have his right arm amputated just below the shoulder to save him from infection and basically to keep the rest of his body from going into shock.  Before that, my sister died.  She was really little, and I hadn't been born yet so I didn't know her.  She and my parents were on a sightseeing helicopter on a vacation in Alaska.  However, the pilot was an inexperienced fraud and managed to kill himself and the rest of my family that was in that helicopter.  I was too young to know them, but I feel like I do.  Now my two brothers and I live in a foster home here in Bloomington." He looked intrigued, so I decided to keep talking. "My aunts have come in and out of the picture, but for some reason they always have an excuse pardoning them from taking legal action over us.  Our grandparents don't want anything to do with us because both sets disowned our parents.  Now our foster parents love us, but I'm so close to legal adulthood that they think it's a waste of time to adopt us if we are just going to control our own selves in a couple of years. So how this all ties into 'why are you playing on a boys' soccer team' is because of my brother's amputation and contribution to the team, I get to play soccer in his place. The coach kind of feels bad for me and loves me, so I can play with my brothers," I sighed. "That was dumb. I'm sorry," I started picking at the grass around me, clearly agitated with myself.

    "No, Andi, it's okay," his worried expression said it all. "Do the kids at school know?"

    "Nah," I retorted, "I don't go to Lincoln during the day. I just play soccer for them. But I mean, it's not like I'm an outcast.  The guys kind of love me as much as the coach does."  I fiddled with the piece of grass in my hand. "Okay, no more deep questions. So. Two: what's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

    "Cake batter," he said wistfully as I laughed out loud.

    "Eww! That just sounds gross!" I couldn't believe he had chosen that of everything.

    "Three: what is your favorite kitchen appliance?"

    "Spoons," he looked surprised by my answer. "To eat all the ice cream, duh," I explained as he looked at me with question marks all over his face.  "And Nutella."

"Al lright, three," I deliberated for a second, "what's your favorite color?"

    "Copper.  I'm bored." So was I.

    "Same," I rolled onto my stomach and pulled myself to my feet. "Let's head out of here," I said as I glanced up at the tumbling gray clouds in the sky.  "Will you help me with the balls?" There were so many; thirty had to be dragged to the bed of my truck.

    "Sure," he tossed me a couple sacks and threw some over his shoulders. "I'll race you to the goal," he challenged.

    "You know I'll win," I gloated as I sped off running.  Diving into the goal like a seasoned professional, I celebrated my win by holding the bag over my head like a flag and jogging a victory lap around Ryan.

    "You can stop rubbing it in my face now," he sighed and started collecting balls. "Four: Andi, what's your actual name?" I stood there for a second after he asked the question, shocked by the realization that not many people actually know my real name. "Is that classified information?" He teased, making a goofy face and continuing to stuff the balls away.