"I'm shipping you both to boarding school."
Those seven words changed Debbie's life forever.
*****
Amnesia is defined as loss of past memories due to a traumatic experience.
Debbie is sent to a hostel she's previously gone to but with no recollectio...
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***
Now fully in my sports gear, I jogged over to the soccer field, glad to see that the coach was still furiously yelling instructions at the boys as they kicked the ball into the goal post.
Going in front of the lean soccer coach I stood up straight in an army's salute, "I'd like to try out for the team sir."
My tactic was simple, act like you belong there and eventually they'll think it too.
"It's for boys only," his response came out dry as he scrutinized me, probably trying to diminish my confidence.
"I'm aware but I think I'd make a good asset on your team," my arm came down to my side, eyes sharp and challenging as we stared each other down.
"How are you so sure?" He raised an eyebrow at my statement, suprised that I was still here.
"Who's the best player on your team?" I matched his look, hand on my hip with certainty.
He blew his whistle in order to get everyone's attention and immediately the boys stopped playing. "Noah!" He yelled.
A tall slightly lean boy jogged to us, a comb on his afro and sweat stains at the pits of his grey long sleeved turtleneck.
"Yes sir," his brown eyes assessed me harshly with distaste before bringing his attention back to the coach.
"Play one on one with this girl," he turned to me, "Let's see what you got."
"This girl has a name," I retorted sassily, arms crossed as I walked to the middle of the field.
Noah rolled his eyes following behind me. I could feel the coaches hard and calculating stare, which only boosted my need to prove him wrong.
The game was straightforward, we played on half the pitch to conserve our energy and the goal was to get as many balls past our opponents and into the empty goal post.
Noah was fast, I'll give him that, with agile speed and quick responses but his cockiness let me easily dribble past him every time I was in possession of the ball.
After about 40 minutes of me teaching Noah how not to underestimate my soccer skills, I turned back to the coach, "Is that enough?"
Noah was left panting beside me, looking quite flustered from trying to withhold the ball, his hands grasped his knees in support as he tried to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen.
The coach looked suprised, certainly not believing that I beat his best player. I brought the ball up to my hip, my hand adjusting it until it rested comfortably on my waist as I watched his gaping expression, "So?"
