“Off side!” I shout for the fifth time during the first half of TJ’s soccer game. I gesticulated to one of the opposing players and huffed. “Come on, Ref. He’s clearly off side.”
I’ve never been a sport person, if it wasn’t already clear after last week’s incident, but I think soccer is a sport I could totally get in to. Capshaw were only thirty-eight minutes into the game, and half time was still a little way off, but I think I’d gotten the hang of it already.
The game continued, and the referee hadn’t taken in to consideration my profession judgment about Wilson-Moore’s player being off side. It had been pretty obvious that the boy in the claret jersey was off side; if I had noticed it, then surely someone else must have. I leaned back in the stands and folded my arms across my chest, fighting back the anger raging inside me and the annoyance I felt towards the marshal.
He was clearly unfit to referee a soccer game.
Another foul was committed against Capshaw, this time with the fullback tackling Brewer to the ground. Brewer rolled around on the floor and the referee, in a moment of common sense, booked the defender and showed him a yellow card. I smiled triumphantly and watched as TJ stepped forward to take a penalty. He placed the ball on the stop, took three steps back and one to the left. He looked from the ball to the goal and back down again before taking in a deep breath and stepping forward to take the shot.
The ball careened in to the net, and the crowd went crazy. I hollered along with them, jumping to my feet and clapping my hands in congratulations. TJ looked up to the stand, singled me out and waved at me as he ran back to his team. A few seconds later the whistle blew for half time and the boys came running from the field and towards the bench where the coach was on hand with his clipboard.
Coach Yeeles shouted out instructions, telling his defense that they needed to be tighter at the back, and the midfielders needed to be more attacking. He criticized all the player, bar on. TJ, who also happened to be the team’s captain, was the only one who came out unscathed. Coach Yeeles praised him for his goal, but then frowned and he started pointing his finger at the stands. TJ nodded at first and then burst out laughing. He nodded again, rounded the coach and started to make his way up to where I was sat.
“Enjoying the game?” He asked as he sat next to me, draping his arm around the back of my seat. I nod with a smile, and TJ grinned at me. “Coach said that you’ve been very supportive, if a little… what the word? Vocal?”
I blushed. “Oh, yeah, that,” I say in a stutter. I turn my gaze back to the field and wince. “I may have got a little excited about the game. But in my defense, you probably shouldn’t have taught me the off side rule.”
“That’s what you’ve been shouting?” TJ roared with laughter. “Jesus, Cate. I thought you were joking about yelling that from the sidelines.”
“Why would you think I’d joke about that?” I ask confusedly. When TJ shrugs, I let the subject drop and just turn to look at him. His blonde hair was soaked with sweat and covered most of his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed. His jersey was covered in mud, and his legs were so dirty I couldn’t make out any skin, not that there was a lot on show in the first pace with his royal blue socks pulled up to his knees. “You look disgusting.”
TJ laughed and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. I scrunched up my nose and tried to pull away but TJ had a pretty solid grip on me and no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t getting out of his grasp anytime soon.
“You smell really bad too,” I tell him as I turn my nose away from him. From the corner of my eye I watched TJ laugh, and I noted how relaxed he looked. He had on this carefree smile that made him look younger than he was, and it was infectious. I started to smile too. That’s when I jumped out of his hold and reached for my camera. “Don’t move.”
I always had my camera with me after school was out because I never knew when I would see something that I had to capture. The lighting this afternoon was perfect, and with the sun setting behind TJ, a burnt copper sky illuminated his face and he looked so handsome. I took my camera in my hands and brought it up to my eye. I looked at my subject through the lens but he’d shifted so I held out my spare hand and slowly moved his chin until I got the angle perfect. To his left and down a bit, that’s when he was most handsome.
“Just pretend I’m not here,” I instruct him.
“You’re sitting right in front of me and you’ve got a camera shoved in my face, Cate,” he points out with a roll of his eye. “It’s hard to pretend that you’re not here.”
“Then just be natural, ok?” I tell him as I conceal my eye roll behind the camera.
“I don’t know how to do ‘natural’ when there’s a camera right there,” he reaches his hand out and smudges his finger on the lens. I frown and drop my camera. “You look like you want to kill me.”
My camera and I have a passionate relationship and I hate it when anyone tries to mess with that. Having TJ abused my camera this way was just unacceptable. I bit back my response and instead calmly cleaned the lens until all traces of his fingerprint was gone. I inspected it quickly and decided there wasn’t that much damage done, so TJ got to live to see another day.
“You’re lucky I like you,” I tell him as I bring the camera back to my eye. I watch as TJ laughs, and as his eyes close and then open, I click the camera and capture the moment. I set the camera down on my lap and smile at TJ. “There, wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
“You took the photo?” TJ asks as he reaches for my camera. I slap his hand away and turn my body so that he can’t reach the camera. “When do I get to see the final piece?”
“Never,” I tell him defiantly. “I’m not a huge fan of letting people see my work.”
Before TJ could respond, Coach Yeeles called TJ back to the team. With a grunt, TJ climbed down the stands and ran over to listen to the instructions for the second half of the game. Unlike football, soccer didn’t seem to play with a playbook, and the players just did whatever they felt like, as long as they scored goals.
When the whistle for the start of the second half rang out, TJ started zig-zagging across the field, chasing the ball wherever he went. He looked like a man possessed, but I suppose that’s what made him the player that he was. He was quite intimidating on the field and it unnerved me, but also intrigued me.
I stood up and went down to the sidelines with my camera in my hand. I dropped my satchel near Capshaw’s bench, and crouched down to take a photo of the players that were currently tackling for the ball. I clicked away a few times before Coach Yeeles saw what I was doing, and when he stormed over to me, I gulped and tried to make a break for it.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Coach Yeeles said as he pulled me back, a fistful of my sweater in his hands. “You’re taking photos? Why?”
“I’m a photography student,” I explain. “I just wanted to take a few frames for my portfolio, that’s all. I didn’t mean to upset you, sir.”
“Sir?” He frowned.
“Uh, Coach?” I offered instead.
“Whatever,” Coach Yeeles said in reply. He watched me closely for a second before my camera caught his attention. “So, you take pictures? You know, we don’t have a team photographer. I think it’d be nice to have a few pictures of the players and the games. Are you interested in the job?”
“I don’t know anything about soccer,” I tell him as an embarrassed blush flushed my cheeks.
Coach laughs. “It’s not a requirement for you to know anything about soccer. Plus, from the way you’ve been yelling ‘off side’ from up there, I’d say your boyfriend has taught you enough about the game to qualify for the game.”
“My boyfriend?” I scoff. Coach Yeeles nods and points towards a very familiar player. “I am not dating TJ Rushing. Why does everyone think that?”
*~*~*
Cate was right, not that I would admit that to her, but I did look disgusting and I did stink after the game. After I led Capshaw Academy to a 2-0 win over Wilson-Moore, I headed to the locker room and went straight for a shower.
The team usually went out for dinner after games, but tonight I just wanted to get home and climb in to bed and sleep. Usually my nights were pretty relaxed, but since Catherine came in to my life, I’d been constantly switched on, and I desperately needed a night off from thinking about her. She was always on my mind, almost like she was haunting me, and it just drilled it home to me that I had yet to make any headway in finding her.
I changed in to a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, and tied my hoodie around my waist as I grabbed my gym bag and headed out the door. I threw on my beanie hat, covering my damp hair, and dug in my pocket until I found my car keys.
Just left the locker room. Meet you at my car in five. TJ xx
Since the half time chat, I hadn’t had a chance to catch up with her, although I did see her snapping photographs from the sideline as Coach barked orders at us. I wondered if Coach Yeeles was ok with having Cate that close to the action but he didn’t yell at her. Actually, I think at one point Coach might have actually smiled at Cate- that is, if the guy knew how to smile. He was notorious at Capshaw, and in the county, for being miserable.
I reached the parking lot and smiled as I spotted Cate leaning against the hood of my car. When she saw me approach, she stood upright and waved, a small smile on her lips. From where I stood, I beeped the car opened and signaled for her to jump in. It was getting colder as the afternoon wore on and I don’t think Cate’s thin shirt would keep her warm at all, so the sooner she got in to the warmth of my car, the better.
Couldn’t have my new best friend dying from hypothermia.
I got in to the driver’s side and started the engine, turning to crank up the blowers as I noticed Cate shiver. She flashed me a grateful smile and swiftly went to my iPod to find her playlist. On the ride home yesterday she had worked her way through all the music I had synced for her, and declared that it was the best compilation she’d heard. I think she was just trying to placate me, but I took the compliment anyway. My ego always needed a little boost.
She scrolled through her playlist and found The Offspring. When I Want You Bad started playing, Cate started to sing. Every now and then she would sway her head to the beat of the music, and I couldn’t help but grin stupidly as she rocked out. This girl was a walking contradiction sometimes- it was as if you expected her to be one person when you looked at her, all sweet and innocent and vulnerable looking. But then, underneath it, when you saw the real girl hiding under all those layers, she was a completely different person.
Then she mimicked the drumming in the song, and I was sold. Cate Westbrook was unlike anyone I had ever met before.
When I dropped her home, Cate unbuckled her belt, leant over the center console and gave me a warm hug. I was momentarily taken aback and didn’t reciprocate, which hadn’t gone unnoticed with Cate.
“Oh, sorry,” she mumbled as her face turned a cute shade of red. “Force of habit when Georgie drops me home. But we’re not the hugging type of friend, so, yeah... I’m gonna go now.”
I laugh and lean towards her and pull her into a hug. “We can be the hugging type of friends,” I tell her when I pull away. “Do you need a ride tomorrow morning?”
Cate nods and thanks me for bringing her home. I insisted that it was my pleasure, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. It really wasn’t that big of a deal for me to drive her to and from school, because secretly I liked our time in the car when it was just us. Being friends with Cate was easy, almost like breathing, and now that I had her in my life, I was determined not to lose her friendship.
When I got home, I heard my cell buzz in my pocket. I took out the phone and scanned the message on the screen, smiling when I notice the sender’s ID.
Free tonight if you want to Skype. Genevieve :)
I ran to my room, bypassing a rather bemused looking father and step-mother, and quickly turned my computer on. I logged on to my Skype account and saw the Genevieve was online. I clicked on her contact and waited for her to receive my call.
“THEO!” She shouted down her microphone at me. I covered my ears from the noise assault and laughed. “I have been dying to talk to you, big brother. I got my privileges revoked last week and it’s only now the house mistress trust me enough to give me internet. So, tell me everything about Catherine. Find her yet?”
I shook my head solemnly. “Not yet, Gee. For a while, I thought maybe I had, but she… she was a word the rhymes with witch.”
“A bitch?” Genevieve says, getting straight to the point. At only fourteen, my sister had a dirty mouth. “Gross. Don’t date girls like that.”
“I won’t,” I promise her. “Plus, she was really horrible to my friend.”
Genevieve laughs. “I’ve met all your friends and I’m pretty sure they can look after themselves. Out of interest, though- who did she hate on?”
“Cate,” I tell her.
“Say that again,” my sister demands in a weird tone. It was almost mocking, but I said Cate’s name again nonetheless. Genevieve smirks. “Who is Cate? And why do you say her name all funny like that?”
“Funny?” I say through the microphone as Genevieve disappears from the screen and talks to someone else. She returns a few minutes later and tells me not to avoid the real question. “Cate’s a friend. Her best friend is dating my best friend, so we’re kinda bound together because we both lack best friends.”
“Still doesn’t explain the way you say her name,” she says before she turns to talk to someone who is off screen. She whispers something unintelligible to whomever she’s talking with in her dorm room, and then smiles down the camera at me. “You like her don’t you?”
“Yeah, she’s my friend,” I say as if the answer was pretty obvious. I wouldn’t be friends with Cate if I didn’t like her. Genevieve raises her eyebrow at me and shakes her head. I got the meaning behind the gesture. “We’re friends. Nothing more. I like Catherine, not Cate, although Cate’s real name is Catherine.”
Genevieve snorted her soda over the screen and I recoiled as if the liquid was about to projectile itself at me even though I was thousands of miles away. I watched as my sister spluttered and someone come to her rescue. Eventually, Genevieve wiped down the screen and told me I owed her a new computer.
“Ask Mom,” I tell her with a snort. My mother’s answer to any problem was to throw money at it and hope it went away. “You’ll get one delivered tomorrow if you call now.”
Genevieve pulled a face and groaned. “I’d rather ask my dad,” she said. Genevieve was such a Daddy’s Girl it was beyond ridiculous, but I guess that’s how it is when you’re an only child. Donovan had always been nice to me, but I wasn’t his kid. “Stupid question… Actually, it’s not that stupid a question, but have you considered-”
“Cate is not Catherine,” I tell her quickly. “Don’t ask how I know, I just do.”
“Fine,” Genevieve says slowly. Despite the distance between us, I can still see her eye roll all the way from the West Coast. “So, what is she like?”
“Who?” I ask a little absentmindedly. Then I remember who we’re talking about. “Oh, Cate? Um… she’s different. In a good way. She likes punk rock music and horror movies. She’s in to photography and has this weird thing about stars. Her bedroom ceiling is covered with pictures of the night sky.
“She’s hiding under all these layers, but every now and then you get the glimpse of the real her, when she’s relaxed and free and beautiful. She’s been treated like crap by guys before and I think that’s kinda messed with her head.
“She gives great hugs,” I say as an afterthought. “And she looks amazing in an evening dress.”
Genevieve frowns. “If I was a guy, and she walked in to my life, she wouldn’t be walking out of it, Theo. So, I have to ask- why are you just friends with her?”
*~*~*
Unedited, so excuse the mistakes :)
Sarah, xx