"2 Laps!"
We all groaned in unison.
"Let's GO, or I'll make it 4 laps later." Coach Dublin said.
With another groan, we set off down the sideline, with Aimee, Dakota, & Mark taking the lead as usual. I stayed in the middle, determined not to finish last behind Jarod, Derek, Wyatt, and all the other guys that stay back and talk while they run. How do you even do that? I have enough trouble breathing while I run.
Before I continue this story, I might as well introduce myself. I am Madeline Joelle Gray (more formally known as Maddy), 5' 4", 123 pounds, 15 years of age. I live in Ashcrest, Pennsylvania with my parents, 2 older twin sisters (Hadley & Hannah) and my younger brother Drew. I enjoy the beach, hanging out with friends, and soccer, which is where I am right now running my butt off. As if being on a guy's team isn't hard enough.
I forgot to mention that, didn't I? I'll just say that I, a girl, am on a boy's team. I'm not the only girl on the team though, and there's a good reason why we're here. You see, there are only a few girls who play soccer in our grade. There's me (Maddy), Aimee Cook, Heather Moore, and Dakota Walsh. That's. It. Anyways, the high school girl's varsity coach didn't want us to be forced to play varsity and not get any play time, and the boy's junior varsity team consisted of barely enough freshmen for a team, the freshmen I was playing with right now. The compromise was to simply put us on the boy's team so we would be able to play this year. I guess I don't care, soccer is soccer. But to be on a guy's team at our age is a little scary and definitely could easily turn sour.
"Ok, good job you guys. Grab a drink." Coach Dublin said, continuing her talk with Coach Reed.
I put my hands on my head and tried to slow down my breathing. Eventually, I was able to take a sip of my water.
"Ugh, that was horrible. I wish soccer wasn't so much running." Dakota said.
"Agreed," Aimee & Heather replied in unison. We giggled, but our weariness over took us. A small silence settled over as we blissfully enjoyed the rush of cool water down our throats.
"Darn, I should've brought more water." I said, tossing my empty water bottle by my bag.
"There's more in the cooler." Jarod said, setting down his water bottle beside a small red container. I opened it up and grabbed a plastic water bottle.
"Thanks, Jarod." I said before taking a nice, long drink. Jarod was a nice friend, and a really good soccer player.
"Hustle up! I need half of you on the corner, the rest right where Coach Reed is, and...Derek, in goal." Coach Dublin said.
"Sweet." Derek said before running towards the goal and slipping on his goalie gloves. Aimee and I took the closer spot by Coach Reed; a few yards to the left of the penalty spot, while Heather and Dakota went to the corner.
"We'll be doing corner kicks. I want you to get it in, either by volleying it with your foot or head. Of course, not every kick is going to be perfect, so do what you can with what they give you." Coach Reed explained. "Grayson, you're up." I watched as Carter raised his hand to signal he was ready, then kicked the ball. It went a few feet off the ground, but landed in Derek's hands. He goalie-threw the ball back, and the next kicker was up. Zane kicked a low pass out from the goal box, which Aimee turned around and shot straight at Derek. He caught it and tossed it back again.
As we warmed up to things, the kicks got better and better, a few going in. Of course, Jarod always had a perfect kick that no one could get in the goal. Jarod is Coach Dublin's son, so naturally he was good. Another perfect Jarod pass flew over the goal, Aimee taking a wild attempt to head it in and ending up knocking the soccer ball right outside the goal.
"This is just sad." I jumped around to see Wyatt with his arms crossed, watching another bad kick. Wyatt was a good friend of mine I've made throughout the last school year, and I swear he never stops talking.
"I know. The only person who's had continuous, decent kicks is Jarod." I said, taking a step forward in line.
"Exactly! He has to have some Brazilian uncle or something...he's got some crazy skills," Wyatt said. I laughed at his comment. "Oh, lucky you, he's third in line too." I peeked over at the opposite line. 1, 2, yep, 3 people back, matched with me.
"Well, there's no way I'm screwing this up. I love headers." I said, watching Kendall score.
"You must like headaches. But you've got Derek to go through. Now THAT kid-" Derek dove to the left, and knocked a ball away,"-has some serious goalie potential."
"No kiddin'. But I've got this one in, guaranteed." I replied confidently. He was pretty good, I guess.
"Whatever you say!" Wyatt called as I stepped out. Jarod fluffed up the grass and set his ball down. I glanced at Derek and made contact with bright green eyes, completely expressionless. It was uneasy. He was usually so enthusiastic and playful during practices. I mean, with other teammates. I've never talked to him. Abruptly, he turned away. "That was odd," I thought. I turned back to Jarod, who had his hand up, ready to kick. "Here we go..."
The pass couldn't have been more perfect. I zeroed in on the ball, ready to strike with my head. Too bad I couldn't see Derek moving to meet the ball until his nose was smashed in my forehead.
I'll just say it was an odd and busy collision. I was in mid air, the ball just in front of my forehead. Derek hit it off my head with his hands, but my momentum was too built up. I ended up headbutting Derek right in the face, falling back into the ground after our heads collided. The world was spinning and I didn't feel so hot anymore.
"Are you alright?" a blurry Derek asked.
"Yeah, I think so." I stated. He held out a hand to help me up. A took one step before dropping down to my knees again. "Sorry, it's just...everything's so blurry..." I said, feeling as if I was in a dream. No, more like a nightmare.
"Here, I'll help her up. Derek, can you grab an ice pack from that bag over there?" Coach Dublin said. I was heaved up and practically dragged off the field. It was if I had lead inside me instead of bones. Finally, I collapsed down by my plastic water bottle, taking a drink and putting the cool bottle by my sore head.
"Can I see your head, Maddy?" Coach asked. I nodded and took off my water bottle. When she gently pressed on my forehead, a searing pain ripped through me. I sucked in my breath. "Geez, it's already starting to look purple. Here, put this ice pack on it." Derek handed Coach a use-once ice pack, which she gave to me. I quickly put the cold relief on my head. Looking up at Derek and Coach standing above me, the blurriness was finally starting to wear off. I could then spot a little trickle of blood coming from Derek's nose.
"Derek, your nose is bleeding." I pointed at him. Being the smart kid he is, he rubbed under his nose and saw a streak of blood on his hand.
"Oh," he said, continuing to wipe blood on his hands. "Whoops."
"Don't do that!" Coach said, pulling his arm down. "Wait one minute and don't touch that nose!"
Coach said before going to her bag to get some wet wipes and tissues. There was an awkward silence of me, shifting my ice pack around, Derek leaning forward to let the blood drip, and Coach rifling through her bag. I played with the grass, looking for four leaf clovers, but I could feel Derek's gaze penetrating me. I peeked up at him, making eye contact again before he looked away, his face the same as before the kick. Expressionless.
Now, the most I knew about Derek Weaver was that he was A) a pretty popular guy B) an average student and C) just some other pretty face for girls to drool over. His name has popped up a couple times a sleepovers, but the conversation always moves somewhere else, avoiding the cold, hard truth that Derek was out of any girl's league.
"Wipe your hands off, and keep these on your nose. Don't lean back, just let it drain out." Coach Dublin said before jogging back out to the field. Derek followed her instructions and sat down a yard or two away from me. Another awkward silence settled in. Wasn't he going to say something? I couldn't take the silence. Did he hold a grudge against me or something? Maybe it was because Jarod and I seem to be the only ones to score when we practice penalty kicks. And what was with the stare? It was as if he had a wall up against me. Or maybe-
"I'm sorry...about, you know, hitting you in the face." he mumbled. I looked up to see him pick up his water bottle, facing the field and taking a drink beneath all the tissues on his nose. He glanced at me, then turned back. Finally, I decided to say something.
"It's alright. And sorry about...about..well, you know..." I started, trying to find the right words.
"Headbutting me in the nose?" he questioned, turning around to face me. The bright green eyes had a familiar playful glint to them as he looked at me.
"Yeah. That." I said, returning to the grass. I could feel my face heating up. Why did I have to be so spacy? Wait...why was I blushing? It's not like I knew this kid. None the less liked him.
"You have a hard head." I said. What did I just say? What is wrong with me tonight? My face started to burn again. I put the ice pack on my cheeks to cool them down.
"I could say the same for you," Derek said, letting out a low chuckle. "And the ice pack goes on your forehead, not your cheeks. Unless my 'hard head' hurt those too." He leaned over and pushed my ice pack up onto my forehead. When he pulled away, his hand just brushed mine. I was entranced by the sudden contact, but finally caught up on what he said.
"Hey!" I replied, a little miffed.
"What?" he said, taking off his tissues and rubbing his nose again.
"Your nose stopped bleeding." I said. Like an idiot. Again. I wanted to give my face a good, hard, slap.
Derek got up. He held out a hand to me and I took it, waiting for him to pull me up. He chuckled and said, "Thanks for the news flash."
Being heaved up once more, I walked to where the team was discussing the upcoming scrimmage. Coach Dublin and Coach Reed were going over the details while Aimee slowly inched my way.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I'll have text you about it later, kay?" I said, walking off with the rest of the team towards our water bottles and things.
"Okay, don't forget. Bye!" she said, waving as she strode to her car. I went the opposite direction to the gray Ford truck that my dad owned, repeating the scrimmage details in my mind.
"See ya, Maddy!" Wyatt called from behind me. I laughed as he gave me a goofy wave.
"Bye, Wyatt!" I answered back. I saw Derek and Wyatt talking to each other. I narrowed my eyes at Derek. He quickly took a glance at me, then told Wyatt "Shhhh...". I wondered what Wyatt had said, the question eating away at my insides.
Climbing into the car, my dad automatically spoke up. "That was quite a collision you had there."
"Tell me about it," I replied, rolling my eyes. I repeated to my dad the scrimmage details on the way home, just so I could avoid the painful incident. When I got into bed that night, the last thing that scrolled across my mind was Derek's bright, expressionless, green eyes, and the words I didn't hear.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Opinions? Comments? Votes? This is actually sort of a true story...that's been tweaked a lot. Like a true story on steroids. And no, I'm not Maddy . Maddy's based on another friend of mine, carly. And carly didn't start to like our goalie either, that was someone else on the team. but goalie's always make a soccer story more interesting :D I won't say any more :P but I'm having a lot of fun with this already. oh, one more thing. I'm thinking about making this a switching point of view thing, going from Maddy's POV to Derek's POV...whatya think? well, thanks for reading! stay in touch :)
(This note is originally from Bri)