"All soccer players are dismissed. You are to meet in the parking lot after getting appropriately dressed." The announcement says, halfway through Mrs. Hill's lecture.
I stand up timidly, Brooklyn following me. Oddly enough, the classroom applauds us as we exit the classroom. That must be California thing because it's slightly awkward.
"I'll wait for you in the parking lot." Brooklyn says as we come upon the girls locker room.
I nod and enter the dimly lit room. I find my locker and pull off my shirt before opening it up. The room is silent besides the clinging noise of me unlocking the locker.
I quickly change into my long sleeved keeping jersey, then toss an Adidas hoodie on top of it. Then I pull matching sweatpants over the white shorts. I finally slip my feet into a pair of slides. I redo my ponytail and admire the very Adidas outfit. Today when I play I will do my family name justice.
It's not easy being Lionel Messi's niece. The second people find out you share the same DNA, they expect you to have the same feet as your uncle. I think that's why I chose goalkeeping. No one can have expectations because Leo never played that position. I keep my agile little feet to myself as best I can, as long as I can.
I pull my backpack over my shoulders and walk out the doors of the locker room and outside. It takes me a few minutes to make it to the buses. All the guys are already there staring at Brooklyn, their attentions focused on him. Brooklyn jokes around with them, grinning with the rest of them. Boys.
"Nice of you to join us, Miss Messi." Coach West's patronizing voice says as I join the group.
"No problem." I reply, turning and smiling at him. Why did such a beautiful face have such an ugly attitude?
"Everyone on the bus!" Coach calls. Everybody ushers onto the bus and I sit with Brooklyn, then Miles and Derek find themselves on the bench next to us.
"I've always wanted to know what American school buses felt like on the inside. Now I wish I hadn't known." Brooklyn comments. He eyes the piece of gum stuck on the back of the seat in front of us warily. I laugh at the look of disgust that covers his face.
The bus ride is an hour or so before we pull up to a nice high school. It's big with a big stadium for football games and soccer and track meets. Our bus parks in its parking lot and Coach gets up.
"Everyone behave and be respectful. I know their our rivals, but just being better athletes will be better than having a bad reputation. Now let's teach Patch High that their season isn't going to be easy!" Coach says. Everyone cheers and we get off the bus, leaving the stench of feet and sweat behind. Instead the air smells of nature and happiness.
We all walk along a sidewalk to get to the stadium. The field is set up with white soccer goals, and I smile. First real game of the season!
"Alright warm up. We'll let you all know who is playing once you're done. Game starts in fifteen, so be ready to play if you have to." Coach Leeper explains.
I haven't met the rest of the team besides the guys who usually start, but I feel bad if they get to start. Brooklyn wishes me luck, then he leaves the field to go to the stands where my parents and David are sitting on the front row.
"Smile!" David yells, getting a few looks. He's holding out his phone looking ridiculous as he's leaning over the fence wearing a hoodie, hat, and sunglasses.
I smile to appease my family as they snap pictures of me, even though I've had countless soccer matches. They treat me as a normal child, even if I have unordinary family ties to soccer. It's nice to have them keep me on the ground sometimes.
I get back to warming up. Miles and Derek help me out by kicking shots at me so I can catch them, and run back and forth. I catch the balls and stretch out.
Once the times starts to wind down, we all go back and stand around Coach Leeper and West.
"Alright, starting eleven are, Miles, Derek, Nate, Wesley, Cameron, Luke, Jake, Connor, Noah, Finn, and Jared. Everyone else on bench for now." Coach Leeper says.
Jared. Jared? Jared! Jared can't save to save his life. What is coach thinking? And why isn't he putting me in?
Once everyone is where they need to be, I walk over to Coach Leeper. "Hey Coach, why didn't you put me in as goalkeeper?" I ask, respectfully of course.
"Coach West and I don't think you're ready." Coach Leeper says, avoiding eye contact with me.
"May I ask why?" I ask.
"You're work ethic isn't as strong as your teammates," Bullshit it isn't! "And Jared has experience, so take note of his movements." Coach Leeper says.
I just roll my eyes. "Yes, sir." Even though I feel like punching both coaches in the face because I know I have been working hard and I have more experience than Jared, I don't. Dad taught me that making a huge scene is no way of solving a problem. Instead I walk to the end of the bench and take a seat, watching as the game started.
Derek looked strong today. Miles on the other hand looks like he's distracted. By a girl, or maybe even the thought of having David Beckham watch him play, but he kept looking around instead of watching the ball.
Jared looked nervous as well. Nerves on a goalkeeper is a bad sign. A good goalkeeper looks confident and communicates with his defenders, but as Jared and Nate run into each other to block a goal, I can tell the communication isn't there.
A few minutes later I start to pick up on the other team's weaknesses. Their offense is strong, but their defense is crap. They leave big pockets, most likely for fear of not having space for themselves, but they get too far out to have an ability to stop our offense.
Miles and Derek, however, aren't making use of their space pockets. Once a midfielder passes them a beautiful pass, they get mixed up and end up losing the ball.
I watch in horror as a Patch player gets the ball and tears down the field. He's fast as he sidesteps our defense and makes a nice shot directly at Jared. Jared makes an error in judgement and dives to the right. The ball soars into the goal right where Jared stood seconds before. I can't stop myself from face palming at his amateur decision.
I mutter all my thinking to a kid named Carl who I'm not sure is listening to my rant. I point things out quietly to him, engrossed in the bad decisions our team is making. As the fourth goal is scored against us, I start getting more wary. We're down 4-0 and coach has made very little action to get the game on the right track again. He just sits with West quietly and they watch the game, occasional muttering something to each other.
"Dive left!" I yell hopelessly. The ball is too fast and Jared can't even return from the half step he took to the right. 5-0.
There goes an undefeated season, I think to myself as half time is called.
I quietly follow the rest of the group into the locker room. I remain silent, a bored look on my face, as Coach Leeper stood up to get everyone's attention.
"Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy! Where's our defense? Patch offense should not be able to even think about getting to Jared! And our offense! Where is your communication? You have all the space in the world, yet no one has done a thing to utilize it! Where is my state team?" Coach basically yells.
Your state team is busy being crap.
"I don't know what to say, you guys." Coach says, rubbing his head in frustration. "You're making yourselves and me look ridiculous. This is our rival school we're going against, and you are all lost out there. It's simple, get your heads in the game!"
Yeah, I think, Troy Bolton your butts into shape!
"This was supposed to be an undefeated season, but judging by the way you guys are playing, we might as well be sitting on that pitch and letting them score however they want. I expect more from you guys! Play. Better." Coach lectures. I can't help but agree with his harsh coaching pep talk. If I were considered a part of the team, I'd be shaking in my boots. I'd be embarrassed if I let a score this bad happen before halftime.
The rest of halftime West and Coach walked around, lecturing and explaining their notes to the starters. I sat back and ate a granola bar, slightly enjoying this chaos. I even offer up a few tips to Jared who flips me off, unhappy to have my advice.
On the way back to the pitch I wave at my family and the Beckhams. They give me a confused look, asking why I wasn't playing. I shrug and point at Coach and West and swirl my finger around my head to show I thought they were crazy for not giving me an opportunity. My people gave me sad looks and David even raised a fist, asking if he should give my coaches a talking to. I laughed, but shook my head no.
Coach substituted Nate out for some senior, though I doubt that will do them any better. See, I'm referring to this team as them and not us because I feel like an outsider. I've put in the work, I've excelled, I've done everything that was asked of me, yet my coaches claimed my work ethic was below their standards and I wasn't as experienced as Jared. I was practically born with a soccer ball attached to my feet!
Sorry, is training with Lionel Messi, Neymar, Suarez, Pique, Iniesta, and Claudio Bravo not enough experience for your American high school soccer team? Yes, I'll keep this bench warm.
Okay, I'm a little bitter.
Coach's halftime talk must've worked a little because Derek scored one goal and Jared only concedes two more goals by full time. 7-1 Patch High School.
Coach was quick to usher us back to the bus after everyone respectively shook hands. He didn't speak a single word to anyone on the way back. Shame.