Somehow, I was able to sleep. And somehow, I was able to shove away the bitter, painful knot that had taken root in my stomach to swallow a carb-heavy breakfast and lunch in preparation for the big game. Audra had been right, and it was considerably warmer and less windy than it had been yesterday. A half hour before Coach Patel wanted us warming up on the field, I dug my sports bag for my sweatshirt and pulled out the wrong one.
Seeing Theo's name beneath the school crest hit me like a kick in the chest. My fingers twitched, fighting the urge to press it to my nose and see if it still smelled like him. But, remembering Madeleine's lips on his, I set my jaw and shoved it back into the closet. I wouldn't let memories of him pester me today. Not when I had a game to win. Instead, I pulled on my own sweatshirt and made my way down to the pitch.
Audra was already warming up in nets while Coach Patel pored over her clipboard. I dropped my bag at the bench and joined the midfielders as they jogged around the field. In the middle of a warm-up passing drill, we all eyed the Harcourt bus when it pulled into the parking lot under the dreary, grey sky.
Bouncing a ball, Audra studied our opponents as they disembarked. "Remember to—"
"Mind the bloody striker, I know," I said, as the player in question appeared.
Audra punched my shoulder. "That's the spirit."
I set my jaw against my own trembling nerves when Coach Patel called for us to huddle up shortly before game time. The bleachers had slowly filled with fans, most of them decked out in Kingsbridge red and gold. A few wore Harcourt's blue and silver near the back. There were more spectators than yesterday, likely thanks to the milder weather and lack of biting wind, but I didn't let myself look for too long. I didn't need to see which of the boys' varsity players were there. I also didn't need to see if a bright white coat was sitting among them.
"This is going to be a battle," Coach Patel said, when we all gathered around her. Deanna shuffled her legs nervously, while Audra wouldn't stop glancing towards the Harcourt bench. "But I have faith in every one of you. You've grown both as players and as a team this season, and I couldn't be more proud, no matter what happens today. So get out there, give it your all, and bring it home. Hands in, ladies."
I punched my fist to the center as Coach Patel led us in the team cheer. And then we took to the field.
"Deanna's bloody nervous. It's her last game before college, and the scouts are here," Audra mumbled before she jogged to the net. "If we do one thing today, let's make sure she shines."
I shot Audra a thumbs up, and then she raised a hand to signal to the ref at the center line that she was ready. We'd lost the coin toss, so when the ref's whistle started the game, the Harcourt strikers launched into the very same set play that had rocked us last time.
This time, though, when the ball came sailing my way, I was ready. Rather than panic like I had the first time, I caught it on my chest and managed to control it, using my body as a shield. The striker bumped up against me, and I set my jaw against the memories. But Theo's keep-away lessons had worked, and it bought enough time for our right midfielder to cut to the sideline, ready for my pivot and pass.
The second time the striker came for me, they tried their chip and run. All of Coach Patel's conditioning drills must have helped, because it was less of a runaway footrace than it had been last time. The striker got all the way to the corner, but I didn't let her get any further. When she tried to juke around me, I stole the ball away and passed it up again.
"Someone got good," she muttered as she jogged back towards her half.
I couldn't fight my grin, only for it to die when I caught myself looking towards the bleachers. Before I could pick out the varsity boys from the crowd, I ripped my gaze away.
This was my game. Not his.
As well as I had prepared for their striker, though, their defenders had prepared for ours. For every offensive play that we shut down, they did the same to us. The ball bounced around the neutral zone, with neither of us able to take advantage of our possession time. They had a few breakaways on the opposite wing, but nothing that Deanna couldn't stop. We had a few nail-biting crosses, but nothing came of them.
When a foul was called against one of their midfielders for pulling one of our strikers' jerseys, Coach Patel shouted for me to take the kick. I exchanged a look with Deanna, who merely shrugged.
"Pop it into the box and try to let one of us get it first," she said.
Settling the ball, I studied the players. They'd pushed up their defensive line, and their goalie was hovering halfway into the 18-yard box, ready to snatch anything that came close. Reyna, the fastest of our forwards, was moving towards the sideline, eyes on me. It was just like the set play Coach Patel had made us practice over and over. If I could feed the ball just far enough that Reyna could outrun the defender trailing her, but not so far that the goalie got to it first, we might stand a chance.
Your lack of accuracy is all in your head...
I pressed my eyes closed against Theo's voice. Then, with a deep breath, I opened them and hammered the ball with my foot.
It went exactly where I'd wanted it to go. Reyna was upon it in a blink, and a single touch later, she wound her leg back for a kick. The goalie dove, but she was too far out. And too late.
The ball curled into the net.
"Bloody brilliant!" Audra screamed from behind me, and I chased Deanna and the rest of the girls up to crash into Reyna.
"Ace of a pass, Ellie," she said, slapping me with a high five before we all jogged back to our half.
A warm dart of hope rooted in my chest when I looked up at the triumphant, glowing 1-0 on the scoreboard.
Harcourt didn't let us savor the victory for long. They attacked with renewed vigour, and my chest heaved from chasing their speedy striker all over the field and back. Just before halftime, she managed to scoot around me and get a shot off, but Audra stopped it with a solid dive.
When the ref finally blew her whistle, I was desperate for water and a break. Coach Patel rattled off a few strategic notes before we thrust all of our hands back into the circle, shouted the Kingsbridge cheer, and jogged back onto the field.
The beginning of the second half was spent much like the first, with the ball stuck in the neutral zone. But, with 10 minutes of play time left, our left-wing defender tripped up and her striker got away from her.
"Cover me!" Deanna shouted, before she sprinted off to challenge the quickly approaching striker.
"Behind you!" Audra barked, and I was torn. One of their mids had dashed into the center, and our stopper wasn't going to make it back fast enough to cover her, let alone the striker I'd left uncovered on the far wing. I hesitated in the middle, and Deanna got a foot on the cross, but not enough to block it completely. It sailed wild and wide, towards the waiting feet of the striker I'd left uncovered.
I cursed when she knocked a shot into the back of the net, one that Audra would never have been able to stop. Harcourt celebrated with a bunch of ear-splitting shrieks, and I clenched my fists, hating the twisting nausea blooming in my stomach. Audra shot her hand up so I could help her rise, then clapped me on the shoulder.
"Tough break," she said as Deanna jogged over, cursing under her breath. "Let's not let it happen again. We're still in this."
And we were. The scoreboard stayed at 1-1 despite both teams' best efforts to change it. When the clock hit 90 minutes and we entered stoppage time, my legs were crying out for mercy and my lungs were burning. Harcourt had us on our heels again, with the momentum of the game starkly in their favour after their goal. By some miracle, though, we managed to hold them off until the ref's whistle blew.
"Bloody hell," Audra muttered, "I hate penalty kicks."
A new kind of knot settled in my stomach when we all jogged towards the sideline. Our subs tossed our water bottles to us so we didn't leave the field, and Coach Patel's head bent over her clipboard. Audra headed to the center for the coin toss to determine which net we'd be shooting at and who got to shoot first. When she returned, the irony wasn't lost on me that the chosen net was the one I'd practiced on with Theo. But I wasn't going to think about him now. We were so close. I didn't need to be tripped up by memories.
"All right, they're on first. I want Reyna, Deanna, Harper, Ellie, and Steph on the first line," Coach Patel said.
I froze. "Me?" I blurted.
"You." Coach Patel nodded. "Hands in, ladies."
My fingers tingled, and I sucked down a gulp of water against the dryness in my mouth. The 10 of us who'd been on the field when the game had ended made our way to the center circle, while Audra stalked to the net. She took her place, bobbing on her toes and stretching her arms as the fast Harcourt striker strode out to the penalty spot.
She kicked. Audra dove. Never had the ping of a crossbar sounded so sweet. I screamed with my teammates as Audra pushed to her feet, the ball bouncing off wide. Reyna approached the penalty spot next, and she barely waited for the ref's whistle before she shot. The ball curled into the top left corner. Reyna screeched and jogged back for us to crowd her with hugs.
The other Harcourt striker lined up next. My stomach sank when Audra dove left and the ball skipped right.
"We're still in this!" I shouted to her, clapping my hands.
Deanna jogged up next. She hesitated for the longest at the penalty spot, but I shouldn't have worried that her nerves had gotten the best of her. Her shot streaked in, low, accurate, and fast. I screamed extra loud for her, hoping that the college scouts were taking notes.
And then I screamed even louder when Audra dove and punched away the next Harcourt player's shot.
"She hits this and we win," Deanna whispered, her fingers clamped around mine as our center mid, Harper, strode up to the penalty spot. I held my breath.
Harper's shot sailed wide.
My stomach was in knots when Audra took her place in the middle of the net again. They could tie it up here, and then it would be on me to keep us in the game. I clenched my fingers harder around Deanna's, bouncing on my toes.
Audra leaped, arms outstretched. By some feat of athleticism or magic, the ball tipped off the edge of her fingers, bounced off the post, and dribbled away from the net.
I screamed again, dancing alongside my teammates until Deanna clapped me on the back and said, "Ellie, bring it home!"
Shit. The pressure landed on my shoulders like a boulder and my heart leaped into my throat. It felt exactly like when I'd climbed out of my Uber on the first day—all eyes on me while I tried desperately not to vomit from nerves. My legs wobbled as I walked towards the penalty spot. The ref handed me the ball, and I set it down with shaking hands.
It all came down to this. If I scored, we won.
Sucking in a deep breath, I took a step back and closed my eyes. I could miss and we could still win. And even if we didn't win, we'd made it to the finals. That was more than I could've hoped for. A loss would be bitter, but it wouldn't destroy me. I'd worked hard this semester, with all the early morning practices and gruelling hours of studying to maintain my grades. I could do it again next year, and maybe then we could...
No.
I hadn't come this far just to fail. I hadn't given it my all and then some just to fail. Second place wasn't enough for me. Not anymore. Not again.
This was my game. This was my place. No matter what anyone else thought, this was where I belonged. And I was going to win.
I opened my eyes and squared my shoulders. I didn't need to look towards the bleachers to know that I was ready. I didn't need Theo's nod of approval, or William's tutoring, or Coach Patel's praise. I just needed myself. All along, I'd been the one doing the work, and I didn't need anyone else anymore.
I could do this on my own. All I had to do now was prove it.
I looked up at the goal. Eyed the places I could put the ball. And then, the corner of my lip lifted as I imagined Theo standing behind the net like he had all those weeks ago.
I took a breath, visualized my shot, and kicked.
**A/N: IT WOULDN'T BE A MISSKATEY STORY WITHOUT A CLIFFHANGER!!!! The rest is coming next week...but do you think she makes the shot??
As always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment!!**