The Perfect Machine is under editing and instead, I will post this book, The Fault Line. A chapter will be posted each weekend, most likely on Saturdays. If you are worried that you have stumbled upon a book that will not be completed, don't worry; this is not one of them!
I'm excited, and I hope you who is going to read this is as well! If you have read I'll Reach for you; Then you might be in for a treat! Because for me, this book was like my second chance for I'll Reach for you! Remember to vote and comment, I would love it if you did!
-Dreamondreamer96
"Good game, girls!" Yelled the coach as she entered the locker room with a proud grin. My friend Lynda is smiling at me as I pack my soccer kit in my bag. No matter how many games we win, it's never going to get old. But then again, The Rovers haven't been in shape this season, and they've been dropping points. Yet I'm not going to say no to a 3-0 win, especially when you know that you helped and scored one.
"Captain, well done!" I turned as the coach mentioned me, and my cheeks turned even warmer than they already were.
"Let's win that trophy again," She beamed, and we all grin in as a few shouts with triumph, feeling that we have a fair chance this year as well. It's a good feeling that we've succeeded in bringing home the cup over the last couple of years.
"Let's go," Lynda said, putting her flame-red hair in a ponytail, and I nod, putting my shoes and shorts in my bag. I'm trailing my childhood friend to the parking lot. The lights brighten up the gloomy evening as the wind brings a few green leaves over the pavement.
"I will see you tomorrow," Lynda smiled on the way to her ride.
"Yeah," I wave back as I unlock my old truck and start to make my way home. As much as I'd like to get a normal car, my dad can't afford it. I was thinking of getting a job, but he rejected me. He advised me to focus on soccer and education. Since my mother left, my dad has been struggling to keep the finances running. Yet he's still making it work.
I'm parking the car in front of our thorn home, with a desperate need for new cladding, painting, practically need to be renovated. It would almost have been easier to tear it down. The lights in the kitchen are on, and my dad's waving at me. He's the best dad I could ever wish for; he's always been there for me. Any time he can go to my soccer games, he can, but dad will gladly accept overtime if given.
"Hi, are you hungry?" My father asked as I entered the kitchen to place my bag on the floor.
"Yes, I am," I smiled, sitting in front of the kitchen table watching my dad make his famous spaghetti Bolognese after-game dinner. He may not be the best chef, but he definitely knows how to do that.
"How was the game?" He questioned, putting a full plate in front of me.
"We won," I picked up the fork and knife.
"That's great," He grinned, placing himself in his chair as well.
"I had an assist, and I scored a penalty," I began digging into my meal, flavors exploding in my mouth.
"You haven't missed a penalty in four years, Wilder, which is unreal," He said warmly with his gray eyes shimmering with pride.
"I suppose," I shrugged, but still, it feels amazing to know that I'm the best penalty taker of all time in the league, the fastest winger on our team. Only seventeen and I have accomplished to take the high school female team with a storm.
"Don't assume," My dad looks insulted.
"You've got college scouts staring at you all over the country, a couple even saying that they want you," He said, shaking his head at me.
"Calm down, Dean," I laughed, and it makes him shudder every time I use his name.
"Don't do that," He pointed his fork at me.
"I'm excited for you, Wilder; you're amazing and have an exciting future ahead of you," He beamed.
"We've never had someone as talented as you in the Holt family," He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes to him.
"Are you ready for next week for Howlers vs. Griffiths?" Dad asked me, uneasy, and I take a deep breath.
"I guess so," I said. Soccer for girls has been popular in our town in the last few years. We're not alone, unfortunately. As the population of Willmont Hills increased, another high school was opened across town.
Us, The Howlers, and The Griffiths have been massive rivals over the last seven years. It's got the town to split in two. You're either a red or blue, that's how it's been. I love the competition, and it makes it fun. The Griffiths have come a long way now, falling into a second position last year behind us.
It's different this year; They are more critical. We are sharing the first spot with them. Only goal difference is what divided us. I think the reason they're so successful this year has much to do with their new goalie.
There's been a lot of conversation about Nico Hurley and how she will be the next potential goalkeeper in our country. She's moved to town this year, and I haven't met her yet. Not that The Howlers and The Griffiths intend to interact with each other anyway. But at times, we cross paths at parties; then we only ignore each other.
Nico took the roll as captain right away, and that's unusual. But seeing how much they have kept clean sheets, the first few games may be an explanation. They say that Nico is brilliant, and I don't doubt that. She is the tallest player in the league, which is a tremendous benefit for the squad. So far, I'm not concerned, we beat them last year, and we can do it again.
"Thank you for dinner," He waves it off as if it was the least he could do after I had placed my plate in the dishwasher. I fall into my bed with a thud, feeling every muscle soreness under my flesh. There's no day I don't feel pain.
I sigh heavily, curious what my mother is doing right now. She left years ago, so sometimes she visits us. At first, I figured it was because she missed dad and me. Perhaps she may have wanted to move back home. Then one day, I heard my mother asking for money from my dad. It's not that we're already struggling with that. My father was gracious enough to say no, and he told her never to ask him again.
I don't know how long this has been going on, but now it seems like the only reason she comes is for money. I don't think I'm that important to her. At least I've got a dad and my grandparents to take care of me. We may be poor, but I'm still happy.
I've got soccer, which I know I'm okay at. School may be a different situation, but I can't be well at everything. After practice, I will often stay to train a little longer, but I do it on purpose many times to escape homework.
Hopefully, soccer will be my future, and that's what I'd love to do. Maybe someday, I'll be selected to represent the women's soccer league squad. That must be a dream come true. But too much to ask for, but for now, I need to concentrate on helping the Howlers to the top for the time being.