Chapter Six
It was only fitting that my eighteenth birthday rolled around on a day that both of my parents were working and our away game required two hours in the car. It wasn't that the drive itself bothered me; Risa picked me up around seven and brought an extra slice of pie for breakfast. We listened to music off her phone and jammed out the entire way there.
It seemed weird, knowing that I was a legal adult. I was officially an eighteen-year-old. I feel like in another life I would be more ecstatic about it, but it was just another day for me. A day closer to my future, to Brown.
My knee was bouncing up and down from the nerves as Risa pulled into the lot outside the soccer complex. We were going against Newberry High: our rivals who we had yet to lose a game against. The excited energy was ever-present, as it always was before a game.
"Ready, star goalie?" Risa asked as we got out of the car.
"Star goalie?" I echoed. "Isn't that a little bit of an exaggeration?"
"Of course not," she said. "You've kept up our winning record this season. We have yet to lose a game because of you."
"It's a team effort," I protested, knowing she wasn't really listening. I didn't want her to sell herself short. She'd scored her fair share of goals this season, which is how we often had a lead for me to protect in the first place.
She rounded back to the trunk where our bags were, yanking her t-shirt over her head to change into her jersey. I was already wearing my uniform, but Risa had a thing about getting dressed when she was close to the field, like a pregame tradition she could never let go of. It started when we were kids, usually because her parents were running late when they dropped her off for games, and never stopped.
I lifted my soccer bag and looked over at her, admittedly a little distracted by my own worries. "Hey, R?"
She shut the trunk, shouldering her bag. She turned to face me. "Yeah?"
"Can I tell you about something?"
She glanced down at her shock-proof watch and nodded. "Yeah, we've got time. What's up, my grown-up bestie?"
I felt my spirits lifting a little at the sentiment before returning to seriousness. "I met Jared—I mean Coach Harper—before this season. I was at the park practicing by myself and he was there playing too. We played a one on one game and got to talking and maybe flirted a little."
I tried to gauge her reaction. She wasn't judging, just listening, so I went on.
"We traded numbers and stuff. He was great. I really thought that maybe when I was single again, we could've gone somewhere. Or at least we could've been friends." I rubbed the back of my neck nervously, my face hot.
She nodded her head in understanding. "I get it. You two were acting a bit strange before. I couldn't tell what was up."
"I really wanted to know him," I admitted, knowing it was painfully obvious. "And so when we found out about this situation, it was pretty clear we had to shut it down. But it's hard because..."
I struggled to find the words, but she got it like she always did. "Because you like him. And you know he likes you."
I ran a hand through my hair. "Exactly."
She considered this for a second, looking at me with a sincere expression. She was normally joking, normally playing around with me, but now was one of those times when that wasn't the case. "You know it's legal right?"
My head perked up, eyebrows instantly raised. "I'm sorry?"
"While it's a little bit in the grey area in terms of morality, you guys are legal," she reminded me. "You like him. Maybe at the end of the year, you can revisit it."
"You're supposed to tell me it's wrong," I said. "You're supposed to say 'Laura, what the hell are you thinking?' and not encourage me to hold onto whatever this is."
"But you want to be with him," she said, crossing her arms. "Look, no one can make the choice for you, or him for that matter, but I'm not stupid. I see the way he looks at you now. And between the rides in his car—"
I cut her off. "It's only been a couple of times. The last time he drove me was when he took me home after practice a few weeks ago."
"He drove you home?" A slow smirk spread across her face. "Oh, that makes it even better. Laura, I don't know what to tell you. This whole thing is a messy situation but you should hang onto those feelings if this is something you want. Go for it like you're going for Brown. Isn't that what you're always telling me? To go after what I want?"
"I shouldn't want this," I said quietly, more to myself than to her.
"But you do."
Unfortunately.
After a few seconds, she peeked down at the time and cursed. "As much as I'd love to continue this conversation, we have to go get warmed up."
I followed her onto the field, trying to process. In my gut, I wanted to think I knew better. I should've known better. But I also knew him before, current predicament aside. This wasn't a normal case. Nothing was clear-cut.
Stop, I told myself. Focus on college. What's a relationship with Coach Harper gonna do other than screw everything up?
I sat down and reached for my toes, making sure I loosened up a bit. Stretching was the best part of any routine we did, mostly because it calmed me down before I went out there. When I looked up from my feet a few minutes later, Jared was staring at me. Quickly, his blue eyes darted away from my face and back at his clipboard, as if he were trying to hide it.
Risa nudged me. "He steals glances at you a lot by the way."
Shea and Gen joined us a few minutes later, both looking ready to play. We were all getting game time lately, which was great because we worked best as a unit. I was glad to see that a few of the underclassmen were playing too lately.
The season was going well. Aside from my mixed feelings, I was having a good time.
I had come to like goalie within the few games I played. We had twelve matches, then three playoff rounds, then Championships. We were playing our sixth game of the season, exactly halfway in, and I had settled into the comfort of my new position. We were undefeated thus far, which was definitely a little scary to think about going into a competition.
Like always, I stood up on the bench on the sidelines, clapping my hands together. "Hey, team?"
Within seconds, all eyes were on me.
"We've got this!" I hollered out, loud enough for all of them to hear. "We play this team every year, and you know what we do every year?"
"We win!" Risa yelled, raising her fist triumphantly in the air.
"Hell yeah!" Shea added.
"So what are we gonna do this time?" I went on.
"Win!" they chorused.
The unity of the team cheering together always puts me at ease. It was definitely one of the things I loved most about soccer. Despite the ups and downs of it all, working with the girls was always a plus.
"Ready to make this the best birthday ever?" Risa asked, linking arms with me.
"I don't know about the best, but we can make this pretty good."
As Coach Harper handed me the gear I needed to play goalie, he gave me a small smile. "Make me proud out there, Singer. Happy birthday."
He spoke like he was afraid of saying the words too loud. With that, he read off the names of who would be playing and sent us out onto the field.
And just like that, the game began.
Eventually, we had secured a small lead over the other team, which was expected, but they were coming in hotter and stronger the second half. It was exhausting, standing out there, being on guard for any goals they might try and score. We were 4-2. Ten minutes left in the game.
When the next shot came, I dove after it to keep it from going into the net. Something went wrong as I moved for the ball, the sickening twist of my ankle sending white-hot pain up my leg. I blocked the shot, but something was really wrong.
Please don't be broken, please don't be broken.
I got to my feet, biting down on the inside of my cheek to keep my face neutral. If they knew I was injured, they would pull me, and I couldn't afford to be taken out of the game. I didn't want us to lose because of my injury, as ridiculous as it sounded.
Staggering, I returned to a ready position. Risa mouthed you okay? from across the field and I gave her a thumbs-up as a few tears escaped. Whatever had happened, it definitely hurt.
Thankfully, eight minutes went by without me having to block another shot. I kept my weight off my bad leg, still ready to go down swinging if need be. Two minutes left, we were still leading.
When the ball whizzed by me, just out of reach, it was because I couldn't move fast enough to stop it. The girls on the opposing side let out a victory cry as Risa raised her eyebrows at me. Evidently, she noticed my grimace when I'd tried to step out to block the goal.
I shook my head as if to dismiss her, trying to keep the pain in check. Thankfully, adrenaline was dulling it. Kind of. Besides, it was almost over.
One minute.
Thirty seconds.
They took another shot and I jumped as far as I could, ignoring the horrible sensation that flooded through my leg as I plummeted into the grass, the ball smacking my forearms and flying out of the goal box.
Time.
I limped over to the bench, smiling in response to every congratulatory sentiment fired my way. We'd kept our record, both for the season and against that team. The rivalry was as strong as ever when we shook hands with them after the game.
"Oh my God," Gen said, still red in the face from running as she pointed down at my ankle. "Laura—"
"Laura, your ankle is swelling. What happened?" Risa helped me sit down on the bleachers, eyes wide as she took in the state of my leg.
"I think I sprained it about ten minutes ago." I winced. "Jesus, that hurts."
The team was crowding me now, their faces a blur of curiosity and concern. I couldn't tell if the concern was because I was our main goalie or because I was hurt. I chose to believe the latter, as the former felt vaguely narcissistic.
"Give her room." Coach bent down in front of me, gently taking my cleat off to get a better look. He eased my foot back and forth, trying to assess how much damage had been done. I cried out in pain at one point but tried to stay silent through the rest of it, even though I felt like my foot was on fire.
After a minute or so, he got up and addressed the team. His speech was full of the same congratulatory words, mixed with the time for our next practice and a few other orders of business. Most of the girls cleared out after that, but Risa lingered.
Shea bent down to give me a hug before she left, elated as she said, "Considering you made that awesome save with an injury, I would say you definitely earned whatever soccer scholarships you get."
"Thanks, Shea."
"Happy birthday, Laura," Gen called over her shoulder as she and Shea headed back to their respective cars. "I'm sorry about your ankle."
It was just us three now on the sidelines, making conversation between Jared and me inevitable.
"That was a good game, Singer," Jared told me. "And an even better job as a goalie, but you should've said something about the injury. You could have made it worse."
"I'm sorry," I apologized. I wasn't sure if I meant it. Soccer was incredibly important to me, this team was incredibly important to me, and I would probably do it again if I had to.
"Your devotion to this sport sometimes is insane," he remarked. "You're something, Laura."
"Thanks?" I replied.
"It's a compliment," he assured me.
Risa sat down beside me, her phone in her hand as if ready to call whoever she needed to. "What's the damage, Coach?"
"I don't know that it's broken," he said finally, eyes still full of concern. "We should take her to the hospital to get it checked out. Legally, I have to drive her myself."
Risa considered this. "You guys are headed to the hospital off Eighth street, right? It's the closest."
"Yeah," he confirmed. "Could you call her parents on the way there? Even though she's an adult, I think it's important that we inform them. Can you walk, Laura? I need to get you to the car."
"I don't think so," I admitted.
He sighed before helping me to my feet and holding me around the waist. Despite it being a necessary gesture, it felt weird having him touch me. Especially because I was gross and sweaty. I doubt he cared much about that, but still.
I sat down in the passenger seat, shooting my mom a text about what happened. I made sure to emphasize that it was not an emergency, knowing how hard it was for her to get enough hours, let alone leave work in the middle of the day. I would be home long before she got off anyway.
Risa took her own car, following close behind Coach Harper's as we made our way to the hospital. The pain only seemed to get worse as I came down from the high of a game. A dull throb pulsed through me.
"That was stupid," he said when he saw me fidgeting with my sock. "You should've been taken out of the game. You shouldn't have played on your bad leg. You should've known better."
"The 'should've' doesn't matter," I said, massaging my ankle. "We won, didn't we?"
He sighed, a deep breath out his nose. "You can't go to Brown if you can't play. If it's broken..."
"It won't be broken," I said sharply. "Just sprained. I can ice it and be back for our next game."
"I won't let you play during the next game," he said. "I won't let you play only four days after you twisted your ankle."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine. Be that way, Coach."
I felt like the word coach came out venomously, as though it was punctuated with my anger toward him. He didn't miss the shift in my tone, blue eyes falling on me a few seconds before returning to the road.
"Jared," he said. "It's Jared. It's always been Jared to you and it always will be."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean." He bit his lip. "I mean that even though things aren't great right now, I still want to know you. I feel like we were interrupted before anything could even begin and that doesn't feel right to me. It's stupid. It sounds so stupid to say this. You're eighteen now, which means you can make your own decisions and all I'm trying to tell you is that, later, when you're no longer a student, I want to get to know you."
Words had failed me. They had slipped through my fingers and jumbled up inside my brain. I tried to think of something, anything I could say to him in response. All I managed was, "I want to get to know you too."
He swallowed, tightening his fingers on the wheel. Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.
"Do you wish you'd never met me?" I asked before I could stop the question from flooding out of me.
He responded immediately. "Of course not. Do I wish I had never taken the coaching job? Yes. Do I wish that I could've met you a year later? Yes. But you're Laura. I'm not gonna apologize for the night we met and I'm not gonna act like you never happened."
"I hate this," I said, meaning it completely. "I hate this whole situation."
"I do too," Jared agreed. Jared. Not Coach. Jared. The many names for him competed inside my head, each sending new and confusing emotions through me in their wake.
We met Risa at the hospital and they took me in for an X-ray. When they confirmed it was only a sprain, all three of us took a breath of relief. The only downside was that I wouldn't be playing for the next two weeks. I would be out for three games, which meant we would be close to playoffs when I got back on the field.
I took the painkillers they doled out, let them give me an ankle brace, and gingerly left the ER about two hours later. Because it was a school event, the medical expenses would be covered by the district, which offered mild amounts of consolation.
"Happy birthday," Jared whispered in my ear before Risa and I headed back to her car.
Happy birthday? Just a birthday, more or less. It was light on the happy.
***
i'm back!! i'm sorry for disappearing i've just been hella busy with school and college and job hunting stuff. i'll try to be more active on wattpad :))
how have you been? i finished two different writing projects in the last 48 hours so i'm feeling pretty badass!! i hope you feel the same.
let me hear your thoughts!
signing off,
mads