Take a guess.
I should've stopped texting then, but I was just in a bad mood at the moment. Hannah had yelled at me for not waking her up to move to the bed, even though she was completely out on the couch. Plus, her rustling around to get ready for the college visit woke me up at six this morning. No, I demand you either tell me who you are or I won't talk to you.
C'mon, this is supposed to be a game. Have a little fun.
That was the last straw. I angrily locked my phone, stuffing shin guards, socks, and cleats into my soccer bag. I slipped it into the side pocket as I gathered some snacks and a water bottle, but it started to buzz sporadically. I grabbed the still buzzing bag off of my bed and headed out the hotel room door, key card in hand. Getting to the elevator, the buzzing still hadn't stopped. I finally opened the continuous texts.
W
H
Y
W
O
N
'
T
Y
O
U
P
L
A
Y
A
L
O
N
G
?
God, I was going to kill whoever this was when I found out. I sent back a sharp Stop texting me.
No, not until you guess who I am.
I wanted to kick the elevator wall, but I restrained myself. Once I find out, I'm going to hunt you down and beat you senseless.
Relax, god. It's not that hard. The elevator door opened and I headed towards the breakfast bar.
Then who am I?
Maddy Gray.
I stopped walking. This person knew me. I had to know them. They were just messing with me. They were messing with me, it wasn't that douchebag goalie, it wasn't some nasty guy from another team or that bitch from Oxford.
I sent a message and started walking again. How do you know my name? And who gave you my number?
This isn't as hard as you're making it out to be. But it'd go smoother if you just started guessing names or asking more relevant questions.
I got in line for food. Fine. Do I know you?
Yes, of course. Rather well, might I add.
Picking up an orange juice and some syrup, I moved through the line. Do you play soccer?
Yep. I'm even giving hints, how sad.
Are you a boy?
Yep. Keep going, you'll get there in twenty years.
I put a couple of pieces of French toast on my plate before responding. Are you on my team?
Yes! Getting warmer.
And then I knew. I fucking knew who it was. Derek, I hate you. I saw him across the room half-smile down at his phone, typing back quickly. He looked too attractive with his stupid messy brown hair and green eyes.
Took you long enough. [insert smirk here].
I shoved my phone back in the side pocket of my bag and stomped toward him. "I hate you." He faced me as I slammed my plate on the table beside him, and I could see the signature smirk starting to form. Punching him in the arm I restated, "I hate you so much."
With fake innocence he asked, "What, why?"
I angrily opened my orange juice. "Because I thought you were a pedophile! You couldn't just tell me?"
"No. You're fun to mess with." He returned to his weird but boy-ish combination of bacon and cereal.
An idea occurred to me, my own game I could play. "Well, I'm going on a date with that Wellington goalie tonight."
Derek froze and said darkly, "He lost the bet."
"I thought I should anyway, I felt so bad for him. He brought flowers last night after you left with an apology card."
The screech of chair legs on the floor alarmed me. "I'm going to go kill him."
I desperately confessed."No! No wait, I'm joking. I'm joking." His eyebrow was raised, and I leaned in, determined not to lose this fight. " 'You're fun to mess with.' "
I thought he might storm off, but Derek just pulled himself back in and took a drink of water. "Touché."
I smiled at him a little as he smiled back. What a sight, oh dear lord I don't know why my hormones were completely uncontrollable, but what a perfect looking boy. The simple, feathery, outgrown brown hair. The electric green eyes. Slightly chapped, tantalizing lips. Rough and calloused hands for holding. Light skin, slim figure, a few inches taller than me. I tried to think about all the other guys on the team, what made them less desirable to me than Derek. Sure, Wyatt had that always-sultry look to him, Jarod had that adorable shyness, Kendall had a heavenly California-esque head of hair, Carter with his razor-sharp jawline, and Oliver with a smattering of perfectly placed freckles, but none of those features ever appealed to me. Nothing quite like the combination that was Derek Weaver.
"So...Riverview. I think we need to talk about it." Wyatt's voice interrupted my out-of-whack hormonal thoughts.
"Why? What are the standings?"
"We're tied with Riverview and Bridesdale for first right now."
There was silence for a moment until Dakota quietly breathed out an "Oh my god." Laughter went up, then calmed down again.
"So, if we beat Riverview, we'll still be tied for first with them because they'll more than likely beat Wellington, and we'll beat Oxford, meaning we could break their winning streak. And get a by in the bracket and play two games on Wednesday."
"What about Bridesdale?"
Wyatt's eyes flickered with excitement. "They lost to Wellington and Riverview and only won against us yesterday. Even if they win both games today, they'll only have three wins. And when we beat Riverview, we'll have four."
We went silent again. Oh, how nice it would be to beat Riverview.
Coach came by and moved us along. I had forgotten about Hannah and Mom being gone, but thankfully Aimee pulled me along to her car so I didn't go looking for twenty minutes. I climbed into the backseat, setting my soccer bag by my feet and pulling out my phone as it buzzed with a message from Aimee. I looked at her questioningly, but she gave a slight nod to her parents sitting in the front, her dad driving and mom directing. I opened it.
you have to tell me if he's a good kisser or not. it's in the best friend rule book, I swear by it. aaaaand it's EXTREMELY VALUABLE information Maddy.
I rolled my eyes, but she didn't acknowledge me. I tried to figure out what to send. How do I explain the absolute addictiveness? The incomparable sensation that is kissing was a peculiar thing, but there was something more to it with Derek. I just didn't know what it was. Finally, I settled on a simple yes.
yes? that's fucking it? c'mon, spillllllll iiitttt girl. :P
I literally don't know how to explain it. He just...does it right. Flawlessly. Moving mouths and stuff.
ooo, now things are heating up. ;D tongue?
A little.
you little rascal! I never thought you'd jump into making out so quickly! :O
It hasn't been much.
with time. want a quick tip though?
Uh, sure?
if things ever get boring, bite his bottom lip.
Excuse me? Do what?
you know what you read. just do it, they melt like an ice cube on a hot day right in your fingers. it'll get pretty intense though, just do it if things get boring. c;
Intense? I'm not getting anywhere near that. Gross.
god, not any of that stuff. although you might give him a boner, it all depends.
OH MY GOD AIMEE STOP STOP STOP.
haha. mark my words, rapscallion.
Wait...what the hell have you and Wyatt done?
that is for me to know and you to find out. c:
Her cutesy smiley face made me uneasy. Nonetheless, we arrived at the fields a minute later.
Ah. Ah. Ah, no no no no no no I was not into all that physical stuff, no no no. AH. Stop thinking about it Maddy. No no no no, not in a million years.
"Maddy, you are too funny." I turned to Aimee as we walked to field four together. "Your face is so priceless right now."
"I'm mortified, if you can't tell."
"Oh, anyone can. All I did was casually mention -"
"STOP." I plugged my ears up, hearing muffled chit chat. "No, no, no." I walked across the field with my fingers still in my ears, glancing at the Oxford team until Aimee tugged on my arm.
"Oh dear lord. I won't ever mention it again if you're going to go through such a phase of shock." She laughed as we got in gear, grabbing a ball and doing some passing. Eventually I was focused enough on soccer that I had forgotten about the conversation earlier. For the time being.
After warming up, we all congregated to hear starting positions. Per usual, I headed to the sweeper spot and waited for the game to start.
I won't go into too many details considering it was horribly boring because we scored in the first thirty seconds. By halftime we were switching up positions with a 3-0 lead. I tried center mid, which exhausted me in about five minutes and sent me back to trusty sweeper. It felt like more of a scrimmage than a game. Heather scored, and we clapped once again. Sam and Dakota switched positions, bringing Dakota back to defense and Sam up to forward. Coach didn't bother to tell us where to go anymore; everyone just switched by their own free will.
"Goalie change, sir!" I heard Derek call out behind me, but no one was running towards him. He caught my eye as he tore off his gloves, waving me towards him.
"What are you doing?"
"It's your turn." He handed the gloves to me while pulling the jersey off over his head.
"You're kidding."
"Nope." Derek looked up at me and smiled innocently, forcing the goalie jersey on me. He leaned in and whispered. "Better hurry up."
The whistle sounded before I could comprehend what had just happened. I dropped the gloves and frantically pulled on the jersey, inhaling the faint scent of cologne. The gloves were a little big for my hands and felt like I had paws instead. Nonetheless, Derek moved to my position as I stood in the goal box, still wondering how I got there. I looked to Coach Reed or Dublin, hoping to see some anger, but they just gave me a thumbs up, laughed, and returned to the game. They seriously are letting him do this right now.
The ball was deep on the other end, so I moved up and tried to beckon Derek towards me. He stood still, arms crossed, legs shoulder width apart, surveying the field. I knew he wouldn't acknowledge me anyway so I walked back to the goal box, tearing up grass with my cleat. The jersey was suffocating me, and I realized that I take short sleeves for granted. It was humid, fog still blanketing everything, waiting to rise up and rain down on us. The gloves felt weird on my hands, like they didn't quite fit but had a comforting warmth to them. I stared at the padding, worn away in some spots with a few loose strings.
I returned to the field again, slightly alarmed at the play unraveling. Things had moved up to midfield. They got a long ball sailing behind the defense, sending Dakota in a confused run down. The Oxford player shot weakly, still causing me to panic as I picked it up off the ground. Suddenly feeling elated, I punted the ball as hard as I could. It didn't go as far as I expected, landing square at the bottom of the center circle on our end. Derek sure had a strong leg if he was getting it past midfield almost every time. I suppose goalie was an underestimated position.
The game ended not long after, and I cut to the front to shake hands. Afterwards, I undid the velcro and turned to try and find Derek. He stopped his chatting with Zane and caught up to me. "Good job out there."
"Thanks." I took off the goalie jersey and handed it to him along with the gloves. "Don't ever do it again."
He laughed while tucking his stuff away in his bag. "I don't know, I think you could handle Riverview. I bet you could handle a shoot out, too."
"Over my dead body." I picked up my bag, trying to fight a smile at the sound of his infectious laugh. We walked side by side across the field, saying nothing, just acknowledging a happy presence. We walked until we met up with the rest of the team, sitting on a small hill, chatting away in groups. I took a seat beside Aimee as he took a seat beside me.
"Maddy! Our little goalie novice!" she said ecstatically.
"Oh, stop it."
"I thought you did well." Derek smiled at me genuinely, sending a fleet of butterflies through my stomach. "For one shot." His smile turned into a smirk. Aimee was busy talking to Wyatt now.
"Whatever, it was easy. How's center defender?"
"Easy."
"Ha. If you were up against Bridesdale you'd get a real taste of it."
"Same to you, except with Wellington. We'll have to shoot around back home so you know what it's really like. I'll teach you the basics, if you want."
"Why not now? There's an empty field over there." I gestured behind us.
He got up, holding out a hand. "Allons-y."
I let him help me up, noticing most of the team caught up in their own conversation. Grabbing my bag, he grabbed his and we started walking towards the goal at the other end. Gently, I felt his hand slip into mine. I instinctively glanced around to see if anyone was noticing us, but no one was around since this was the farthest field. My blush started to get hotter as I kept my head down.
"Hey." I looked up at him, my blush still growing.
"What?"
"You're cute."
I put my head down again in shy embarrassment. "Thanks."
"My pleasure. Now," he paused and dropped his bag, digging out his gloves and handing them to me, "It's pre-test time." I half smiled as I got my ball out, rolled it to him, and put the gloves on again. He lined up the ball on the 18. "Ready?"
"Born ready." He smirked, backed up, and kicked a rocket at my head.
I couldn't help yelping and ducking as it hit the net. I stared at him. "Are you trying to kill me?"
He simply laughed and held his hands out for the ball. "Maybe you'll pass the other sections." I angrily rolled it out to him as he moved to the left, setting up for another shot. He kicked a perfect rainbow. I jumped to try and get a hand on it, but it tipped off and went in the goal again. "You got a hand on it that time."
"Yeah," I got the ball out to him and looked at the gloves. "Yeah I did. Hell yeah."
"Progress. Are you up for..." He paused dramatically as he dribbled closer. "The penalty kick?"
"As long as you don't aim for my head."
"Of course not. I'll even give you a few pointers, even though it's against the rules." He half-smiled and left the ball on the penalty spot. Walking up to me and spinning me around, we faced the net. "Penalty kicks are tricky because if the shooter's smart enough to go for either a grounder by each pole or upper 90, you don't have a chance. I was taught the only zones you need to protect are one," he gestured directly in front, "Two," he gestured to the right, leaving about a yard from the pole, "And three." He finally gestured to the left. "Four," he pointed to the farthest right area, "And five," he pointed to the far left, "Are hopeless." Derek stopped to looked at me. "Make sense?"
"Yeah." We returned to staring at the net. "So if you shoot a hard grounder, you've got yourself a goal?"
"Yep."
"What do you think is your best save?"
He turned to me again, probably caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Ever? Like since I've been playing soccer?" I nodded. He faced the net again, thinking deeply while examining the goal. "Honestly, those two against Wellington yesterday, more than likely. But one time last year, the other team had the game winning penalty kick with virtually no time left. It was terrifying. The kid taking the kick looked like a criminal, for one." He sat and I sat next to him. "I saw him glance to the left side of the goal, and since he was right footed I knew that's where he'd kick. And all of this processing had to of happened in less than a second. I cheated a step as he was winding up and the ball was kicked far, far right, as I expected, but I still had to catapult myself across the goal. I saved it, but not before running my head into the pole and getting a concussion."
"Wow."
"Yeah, it hurt like hell. I recovered fine, thankfully." He laughed quietly. "That was a good save."
"Sounds like it. You're right though...those Wellington saves were incredible." I took off his gloves and handed them to him.
"Thanks. What are you...?"
"I don't think keeper is my cup of tea." I got up and jogged to get the ball, dribbling out. "Besides, I want to see how much you like getting a soccer ball shot at your head!" I called out, dribbling towards the top of the arc.
He strapped his gloves on. "Anything to keep this face perfectly intact for you." He stretched his arms and smirked. "Ready when you are."
I took the signal, tapping the ball a little to my right and going in for a powerhouse kick. Surprisingly, it was right on target, but I didn't even see Derek's hands go up as it bounced off his hands, then the ground, then him catching it firmly. "Good aim." He rolled it out and I immediately shot back. He dove left, another save. I ran after the ball and shot again as he hastily picked himself off the ground, diving the other way. I didn't waste any time shooting again as I heard him laugh exhaustedly. I turned it as quickly as possible and went for the chip shot. He jumped, the ball tipping off his fingers and over the crossbar. Giggling, I ran to get it, picked it up, and threw it in the goal as he stared confused. "Aha! Who's the prodigy now?"
"Still me, that was completely illegal and you know it." Derek fought a smile as he got the ball and I leaned against the goal post. He set his forearm against it, ball under the other arm, breathing slightly heavier than before. "Ah. You tired me out."
"Sorry." I laughed a little, out of breath myself. And for a cheesy, wonderful moment, we just relaxed and took in the company of each other. I thought about telling him I loved him, not afraid of the consequences. And I was about to, but a buzzing interrupted our moment of silence. We walked to our bags, but it was Derek's phone that was wildly buzzing. I put my ball away and slung the bag over my shoulder.
"Yeah. Okay. I'm sorry. I'm on my way now. Yes. I'm sorry. I'm coming. Bye." He shoved his gloves and phone back in his bag and started speed walking towards civilization again. I had to jog to catch up.
"What's going on?"
"Just...stuff. I'll explain more later." He gave my hand a squeeze and split off, leaving me alone and confused as he met up with his dad and another older guy, shaking his hand. I disregarded it and walked back to Aimee, who was watching a game with her parents.
I hung out with Aimee for the time being. We had some time before Riverview to get a snack, so her mother took us to a Panera ten minutes away. The curiosity of whatever happened with Derek and that phone call was still bothering me, and I couldn't help feeling anxious. The trepidation for Riverview wasn't helping either, along with the drizzle that had begun.
We continued to chat about school and boys and tumblr and funny stuff all the way back to the field, meeting up with Heather and Dakota to continue talking. Piece by piece, the whole team had congregated again under the concession pavilion, talking about the upcoming Riverview game. Oh god, I was nervous. Everyone was, as 4:00 drew nearer and players in blue striped uniforms started walking our way to take shelter in the pavilion. A black-haired Riverview boy with classic robin's egg blue eyes tapped Dakota on the shoulder. "Lemme just say, you are absolutely stunning." He gave her a winning smile.
"Back off."
"Feisty." He took a step back making eye contact with Heather, Aimee, and I. A sultry smile spread across his face. "Wow, four of the most beautiful girls I've seen. On a soccer team too, I don't think anything's more attractive. And you're from microscopic Ashcrest, of all places."
"Leave us alone."
The black-haired boy rolled his eyes, now joined by a herd of cohorts. "Why are all of you so hot-tempered? I'm just trying to make some friendly small talk. Maybe get a few numbers."
"Well," Derek paused and continued in a dark voice, "Maybe they're taken."
He leaned in dangerously close to Derek, sitting on the end. "Which one's yours, pretty boy? Or, which ones? You seem like that kind of guy."
"Beat it."
"Wait..." the kid backed his face away for a moment. "You're that Weaver kid I've been hearing so much about." Derek didn't respond as the kid scoffed in disbelief. "Trying to live up to your brother's legacy? He was pretty damn good, saving that direct kick his senior year. I highly doubt," the boy leaned in again, closer than before, adding to the atomically unstable amount of tension in the air, "You'll ever live up to the expectations."
Derek snapped his head up, making deathly eye contact with him. "Leave. Before I pound your goddamn face in."
He stood up straight again. "This whole team is just a bag of jalapeños, isn't it?" He slapped his hands on the table, examining us all with a ridiculous grin. "I can't wait to play you. You know, show you guys what soccer is like outside of your little village."
"I think it's time you stop harassing my players." Coach Reed stepped in, arms crossed. The boy's eyes filled with fear.
"I, uh -"
"Goodbye. We'll see you on the field."
He didn't hesitate to walk away with the rest of his team as the fire started to dwindle down. Coach Reed sighed. "Alright guys. Game time." We all went to get up, but she leaned in extremely close and said, barely audible, "Let's annihilate them, please."
A few enthusiastic shouts went up from Wyatt, Oliver, Jarod, and Carter as we went to the field, finding Riverview already in an orderly warm-up. I started to focus on the task at hand. Keep an eye on your outsides. Be vocal. Be fast. Give it your all, protect the goal at all costs.
We warmed up with a silent, looming trepidation, like violins and cellos warming up before the conductor comes on stage. The roll of a timpani. A minor chord. We were ready, oh we were ready. Oliver's shots were on point, even though Derek continued to keep up his impenetrable mentality, and Aimee's crosses were picture perfect. Ready, we were ready to play a game of soccer.
Coach called us in, naming the usual positions. We gathered all our hands together, but she stopped us before we did our shout. "Listen, listen, listen." We leaned in. "I hate Riverview, okay? I absolutely hate them. So let's beat them into a sorry pulp, shall we?" We all shouted and cheered this time, doing a louder-than-usual Ashcrest Tigers. Walking onto the field into my position, I caught Derek as he gave me a solemn nod. I nodded back with a determined half-smile as he swung his arms around, staying loose. I turned back to the field, finding the black haired boy playing right mid across from Aimee. I pitied him for the moment.
The whistle cut through the air, sending them into a frenzied beginning play. Our midfield was too smart to mess around with it as Jarod cut a player off, dropping it to Wyatt. Wyatt kicked it down the line to Oliver, making a run for the corner. Oliver kept the pressuring defender on his back, doing a heel flick to Aimee rushing down the sideline behind him. She crossed it without a moment's hesitation, right to a rushing Kendall. Kendall jumped and did a powerful header towards the goal as their keeper jumped to block, hands up, and -
Swish. Tweet. Goal, Ashcrest. Kendall Fox. Ashcrest 1, Riverview, 0.
I couldn't believe it for a second. We never score early on a team like this. Never. But Kendall was getting high fives and back slaps and crazed cheers from the sideline as Coach Dublin hugged Coach Reed, smiling ecstatically. I glanced back at Derek, arms crossed with a grin of his own. I then faced midfield again, nerves settling and solid determination taking over.
They weren't fast, but they were rough. They were extremely physical. I had some trouble adjusting to it, letting them get one or two weak shots off, but I started to use speed to get around and turn them to the outside. The offense was slowly losing steam, placing a lot of pressure on us. I didn't mind though; I was handling it just fine. They barely got any shots off in the half, not even a remote chance for a goal.
The whistle sounded and loud cheers ensued from the crowd of spectators, which weren't just Ashcrest fans. There were Bridesdales and Oxfords and Hoovers, even that jerk from Wellington and a few of his friends, cheering us on. Everyone must hate Riverview.
Coach gathered us in as we got water and rest. "I'm so proud of you guys. I am so, so proud." She paused, smiling widely like a pleased mother. "Heck of a play Oliver, Aimee, and Kendall. Center mids, you've been relentless. And Maddy," she made eye contact with me, "I've never seen an indestructible defense like what you just put together, in that half of soccer." She returned to smiling as a few people congratulated me, conversation starting up. "Does anyone have anything to say?" Coach added, cutting us off. "Because that was a heck of a half. I really can't think of much criticism at the moment."
Dakota turned around, hands on her chin. "Der-ek?" Laughter went up.
He stopped his water drinking, swallowed, and said, "Keep doing what you're doing, because it's saving me a lot of work." More laughter went up. There was something off though, as Coach Reed did her evaluation. He still looked nervous, like the beginning of game or after making that bet with Wellington. I guess a 1-0 isn't anything huge, but he shouldn't stress over it so much.
"Alright?" Coach Reed clapped her hands together as we gathered ours. "Go get 'em. Don't give up. Don't back down." We all agreed, getting ourselves pumped up as she moved from our huddle.
Derek leaned in, setting his hand on top of everyone's. We listened attentively. "Think about what it would feel like to walk off this field a loser. Seeing them cheer and their ignorant parents stomping their feet. Taking a four seat when we could have two or one." Things fell very quiet. "Now, think of how great it would feel to walk off of this field after beating Riverview. Think of the glory, their smug little faces hanging low. Think of what it'd feel like to win, and make it happen. Bring everything, absolutely everything you can offer to the field. If you're saving something, you sure as hell have to use it now." We cheered again, restless after such a pep talk. After the usual, but louder shout, we headed back to positions. I took the chance to glance at Derek, looking much more relaxed and focused. Relieved and excited myself, I waited for the whistle.
It blew and we took off with the ball, not getting far before it was bobbling in the midfield again. There was a drop to Wyatt with someone coming hard, so I called for another drop. I ran up to it and cleared it, far across the field to Carter. It was crazy far, actually, and I had no idea where the sudden burst of power had come from. But, I wasn't going to complain.
I returned to surveying, watching Heather miss an opportunity to score by a hair. It was sent back up my way. They were too slow for offsides opportunities, so I backed my defense up as they approached. "Grayson, runner!" I shouted as he picked up the player, preventing the pass. "Hold it, hold it..." I said, not wanting to break the diamond shape of my defense quite yet. When they were close enough, I yelled "Attack!" Wyatt didn't hesitate to force the forward to pass. I called Sam back as I rushed him, tackling and taking the ball upfield until I had to clear it.
It was starting to get gruesome as Riverview became increasingly aggressive. Another foul was called on them, Mark taking the indirect kick, sending it to Heather. She sped off with it, but got trapped by a husky defender that pushed her out of the way for the ball. It traveled back and forth between our two ends, to both extremes. I was starting to lose the adrenaline rush but I willed myself to stay relentless, as they continued to shoot at Derek. He remained a solid as statue, not bobbling anything, not hitting anything down, just catches. There was a particularity scary chip shot, but he tipped it out of bounds which resulted in a corner kick. They quickly set up, but didn't quite time the kick and the rush right. Derek called out, "Mine!" jumping out of the goal box to catch it. He waited for people to get up before punting.
It only got worse from there. They shoved and talked badly, they spat and pinched, they did everything in the book. As a result, we were getting fed up. A boy pushed me away for a punt, and I shoved him back for the header, getting called for coming up the back of a player. Coach set out her hands and did a calm down gesture. I took a deep breath. It has to be almost over. Almost to victory.
They kicked and Grayson won it, sending it to Jarod, who pulled a move to get through the midfield and dribble towards the defense. Back and forth it went, like a boat rocking wildly in a storm. The tension was growing, you could feel it with the humidity and the cheers of the crowd.
I looked to Coach who caught my eye, checking her watch and holding up five fingers. I nodded. Oh my god. Five more minutes and we'll have won.
I noticed a throw in get called for them, heading down Sam's way. He moved up and I moved over, covering the open man. The ball went to Sam's player as he stayed in his back, forcing him to drop. Aimee didn't pick up the thrower quick enough, and he kicked it over my head and down the sideline.
I got in a run down with the black-haired wing, realizing he must be the only fast one on the team. Trying to force him out, he passed to a center mid who passed to a forward Wyatt was covering. I saw it - the forward continually pushing Wyatt and shoving an elbow into him until Wyatt lost sensibility and shoved him hard, sending the forward to the ground and the whistle blowing. But...oh no. Oh no. It can't be. Please, no.
"Foul, number 12. In the box; penalty kick." The ref got the ball as we lined up on the 18. Derek was expressionless, pacing, cracking his neck, swinging his arms around. An average build, tall Riverview center mid stepped up to take the kick, setting the ball perfectly in the white-paint-sprayed grass, like he'd done it a thousand times before.
Things were eerily silent. The ref asked the kicker if he was ready. Derek set himself up on the goal line, pure concentration in his eyes. The ref then asked Derek, and, without taking his eyes off the ball, he nodded. The ref backed up, and blew his whistle.
Penalty kicks usually happen in a uniform amount of time. That's just how it always seemed. Maybe two to three seconds and then it was either blocked or went in. But this one went in agonizing slow motion.
The Riverview player approached the ball, concentrated down on it, and shot with a ton of force, so much his right leg lifted off the ground in the attempt. The concentration turned to alarm for a split second as Derek realized the shot was farther left than he'd expected. Yet, by some holy force god has bestowed upon him, he dug his left foot into the ground and propelled himself across the goal, the ball hitting square off his hands. He turned in mid air, getting a hand on top of the ball as he fell, and pulled it in safely.
The crowd's cheers were deafening.
Derek punted it back up, but Riverview knew the game was over and had completely given up. A few short minutes later the whistle blew, and the crowd erupted once again as half the team rushed Derek. Wyatt attacked him in a hug, along with several other teammates, jogging to midfield. I lined up behind Heather, giving her a high five as Aimee attacked me from the side. "Oh my god! We did it!"
After finally forming a line, we shook hands and went back to our stuff, high fives and hugs everywhere (mostly just us girls. Well, Aimee and Dakota). Derek was still bombarded with teammates congratulating him.
"Derek. Derek. Holy shit. I owe you so much. Oh dear lord I am so sorry." Wyatt gathered his things.
"It's cool."
"No dude. I owe you big time."
"It's no big deal."
"But that -" Coach started, "was amazing." More cheers and pats on the back for Derek. He humbly smiled at his hands, taking his gloves off. "I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. Anyway, everyone deserves a pat on the back. That was the best game I think we've ever put together. Get some rest for tomorrow, I'll send a schedule out tonight. It's guaranteed you can sleep in a little, though." Coach left with a mischievous smile as people enthusiastically cheered. I waited on Derek to walk back.
He looked up at me and smiled, then returned to putting his stuff away. "Guess that shooting practice paid off."
I laughed. "Of course, it was my plan all along." He laughed and there was a pause as he picked up his bag, swinging it onto his shoulder. I quietly added, "And that was an amazing save."
"Thanks. Your defense today...wow. I barely did anything in the first half."
I chuckled. "Thank you." Another pause. "Say, when we get back to the hotel...did you want to hang out?"
His expression changed. "I, uh, can't, actually. I-I'm sorry."
I stopped walking. "Why? I'm getting worried about you."
He closed his eyes exasperatedly and turned to me. "Dad's got this whole scouting system worked out. I'm meeting with a Hemsville one tonight for dinner. I'm so sorry, believe me, I would much rather be with you."
"I believe you, another time. Talk to you later then?"
A smile returned to his face. "Talk to you then. Bye, Maddy."
"Bye, Derek."
I caught up with Aimee's mother, talking to her a little bit about the game because Aimee was riding with Wyatt, since they were hanging out for the night. A pang of sadness washed over me.
I rode in silence with her parents, saying a humble goodbye before branching off to my room. It was quiet and empty, and made me feel very lonely, so I turned on the tv for some company. Not long into an episode of Regular Show, my phone buzzed. It was a text from a string of numbers. I opened it, finding it was Derek's and deciding to add him as a contact before replying.
Hi.
Hello. Are you feeling okay?
Eh. A moment passed and another text came through. I'm sorry, I'm really a horrible person to text.
That's fine, me too. Wanna play a game?
Sure...I'm not sending you nudes though, Maddy.
Shut up. We can play 21 questions.
You think of something first.
We texted back and forth, thinking of animals, places, colors, harder things like people and events and abstract nouns like a miniature dinosaur in a toaster oven. He guessed that, by the way. I don't know how he knew what questions to ask, but I remembered the whole writing thing he could do. Yet I still loved playing. After a long bout of 21 questions, he sent an extra text.
I've got to go, I'll talk to you afterwards?
Of course. Good luck!
Thanks. (and you were thinking of Sandy Cheeks riding an alligator).
I smiled at the last text and closed my phone, watching tv. An iguana, actually.
My stomach's rumbling interrupted my peaceful watching however, and I got up to check the mini fridge for food. There was a note and money on top.
Maddy, here's some money for dinner. And don't just get desserts, it'll come up on the hotel bill. :)
I took the thirty dollars excitedly and scanned the menu. I could get a filet mignon and two side dishes for $22. And use the extra for a brownie downstairs at the candy/bakery shop. Not wasting any time, I ordered my dinner and returned to the tv.
After an episode, there was a knocking at the door. I collected the dish, paid, closed the door, and sat right back down on the couch with my heavenly filet. It was good alone time, actually, getting to do what I wanted. Sure, company would be nice, but I think it's healthy to get some quality alone time with yourself.
I finished my steak, set the plate on the table, laid down on the couch, and blissfully fell asleep.