Desks and Letters

Tryouts

Celia

Later that night at the dinner table, I brought up Ridgebrook's soccer team. Mamá's eyes lit up. She had always pushed me to meet new people, I guess she was more nervous for me than I was about making friends.

"CeCe's gonna show all those white boys how football's really done." Ricardo remarked, his mouth full of spicy gazpacho. Mamá slapped his wrist for spluttering soup across the table. Papi chuckled.

"Just remember to give them a chance first, hija." He patted my hand from across the table, a mischievous look in his eyes that made him look so much younger than he was.

"Papi you know she can't control herself," Ricardo said, this time putting his hand over his mouth.

"Ooo CeCe you're gonna meet soooo many cute boys," Julian poked me. Papi squinted at that. Being the youngest had its perks, being a girl had its perks, but being the only girl and the youngest brought out the protective side of Papi. It didn't help that the majority of my friends had been boys. Growing up Papi demanded to meet them before we could hang out on our own. He was old fashioned, but after he saw that the boys were respectful and responsible, he treated them as if they were his own sons.

"Bruno, don't worry, Celia is a big girl, she can handle herself." Mamá spoke, noticing Papi's tenseness. His brow unfurrowed and he continued dipping his bread in the cooling soup. Dinner was a little more awkward after that.

↡↟↡

The next day after school, I joined Mira and some of the boys from lunch, as well as a dozen more people several inches taller than me. Mira pointed each one out, telling me their year and the position they were trying out for. She knew a lot of the boys from her friend group, and the others from coming to the games all the time.

I had gone up to the coach before school, explaining that there wasn't an official boys soccer team, just that the coach chose the best players from tryouts. He had ruffled his salt and pepper hair, and told me how I might have been the only girl ever to bring it up. He agreed that if I was good that I would have a good chance of joining the team. 

One of Mira's friends, (I think his name was Mateo?) gave me a clap on the shoulder.

"So Celia, what position are you going to try out for?" he asked. 

"I'm going for a centre-back but anything in defense would be fine," I reply. I glance at him. He's not much taller than me, his jet black hair is slightly lopsided like he gave himself a haircut. 

"Ah, so you'll be competing against Longlegs over there," he says pointing to a boy dribbling a ball down the field. 

"Longlegs? Is that really his name?" I say, squinting. He looks pretty short from this distance...

"Nah, his name is actually Tucker. We call him Longlegs because he's the smallest on the team, but he's wicked fast." Mateo grins. He calls out to Longlegs, who waves back with a cheesy grin. 

"Islas are you going to sit around or tryout?!" the coach yells from the sidelines. Mateo shrugs at me and sprints downfield toward the cones. 

"Belmonte, you too! Show these boys what REAL soccer is like!" Coach yells again. I set my shoulders and run after Mateo and the others. 

↡↟↡

Papi is waiting for me in the parking lot as I toss the cleats in my bag. He pops open the trunk of the tiny van and moves over several bags of groceries. 

"I thought Mamá already got all the groceries for the next year," I laughed. "Why do we need more?"

"We thought that you might want your favorite dish in celebration of getting on the soccer team," Papi said, giving me a side hug with his crinkled smile. 

"Papi you know they won't post the results for another few weeks..." I trailed off. 

"Yes, but you will make it. You always make it," he squeezed my shoulder and shut the trunk. 

We drove home in relative silence. Papi turned on the classical radio channel and began to move his head to the rhythm. Papi was a romantic. He loved to savor the intimacies of art and music. He took his time when he painted, using broad brush strokes and bold colors. When he gardened, he dug his hands into the earth and worshiped every piece of dirt like it was the finest jewels. When he hugged my brothers and me or kissed Mamá on the temple he never did it half-heartedly. Papi did everything with intention. 

We got home before the sunset, the sky was a gold and purple bruise. I trotted up the stairs to my room to drop off my bag and grab some clean clothes before heading to shower. I was just about there when Ricardo rounded the stairs with a towel around his neck. He gave me a sideglance and smirked. Then he sprinted into the bathroom and locked the door before I had a chance to chase after him.

"Ricardo! No fair! You're not any smellier than usual, your shower can wait!" I whined, pounding on the door and jiggling the handle.

"Sorry CeCe, next time!" He laughed. 

What I wouldn't give to have my own bathroom... I thought blissfully. 

I went back downstairs and decided to waste time in the living room. 

"Ay Celia, you reek." Julian exclaims, sliding further away from me on the small couch. His laptop teeters on the armrest. 

"Blame your twin," I frown. He rolls his eyes and goes back to typing. I close my eyes and go over the tryouts again. And again. And again.