Take One For The Team

Chapter 9

The next morning I slept in until 10 and then went to the grocery store with Dad. Not long after Mom died, we'd realised pretty quickly that: a) we sucked at shopping, and b) we hated it. So we developed a system. We write our list in aisle order and then split it in two, taking half each. Then we race to see who can get to the checkout first. Today we managed to get in and out in 14 minutes.

On the drive home we talked about the game, and the conversation inevitably moved onto the after party.

"So... are there any boys on the scene I should be worried about?" Dad asked casually.

"Dad, gross!" I cried in outrage.

"Anyway," I added, "you know I'm not dating this year. I'm concentrating on soccer."

"You know I worry!"

I rolled my eyes. "I know you do. But you don't need to this year, okay?"

"Okay." He surrendered, leaving it at that.

"What about you?" I enquired, "Any nice ladies at work?"

Dad shook his head firmly. "Uh-uh. If your dating life is off limits then so is mine."

I smiled and looked out the window. Dad hadn't really dated much since Mom had died, and that was always fine with me. But now that I was a senior, I kept thinking about Dad being all alone when I went off to college next year, and it made me sad.

When we got home, we unpacked the groceries and I went upstairs to my room to double check my kit bag. I'd packed it the night before, but my stomach was full of nervous butterflies. I was excited to play, but kept thinking about the fact that I was the only girl, so I knew I'd be subject to a lot of attention. And even though most of my team were supportive, there was no guarantee the Westfield team would feel the same. I'd basically have a target on my back.

I had a nightmare last night that I'd gone on the pitch and couldn't move my feet to get the ball, and everyone in the crowd laughed at me. It was humiliating. I had to keep reminding myself that I made the team for a reason, and I'd beaten out 14 other guys.

The team needed to get there an hour early to warm up and discuss tactics, so I was driving myself and Dad was coming later to watch. Principal Stevens had invited him to sit with him on the front row.

I was too nervous to eat but forced myself to eat a banana for some energy. Then I paced round the house, obsessively checking the time every 2 minutes. When I checked my phone for the 100th time, it read 12:39, and I couldn't wait around any longer. I ran down the stairs with my kit bag over my shoulder.

"Dad, I'm gonna head off. I need to get this nervous energy out." I called.

He wandered out of the living room and put his hands on my shoulders.

"Breathe. You're going to be great. Now go knock em dead."

"Thanks Dad, see you after the game." I said, giving him a quick hug.

I drove to school, the speed limits feeling way too slow and the journey feeling way too long. I just needed to kick a ball about, then I'd calm down.

When I got to school, the parking lot was busy already. I headed to the locker room to dump my bag. I had the whole room to myself, being the only girl.

My brand new red and white EHS kit was already laid out for me on one of the benches. I picked it up and stroked the material. I turned the shirt round and was over the moon to see that Coach had given me the number 4 I'd wanted. I put it on and looked at myself in one of the mirrors. It fit perfectly, and I felt empowered.