Page 4 of With Every Breath

“I’m ready. I’m ready.” She rolled her eyes at me as she burst into the living room, twisting her hair up at the same time. “I need to organize my bag. You drive today.” She tossed me the keys, and breezed by to the outside.

We lived on the second floor, and usually parked right in front of the steps. I laughed as Madi plopped her bag in her lap, and began digging for shin guards. I was the messier roommate. Madi was always tidying up. My thoughts were always, “If I can find it, and it’s not dirty, then it’s fine.”

“You are ridiculous sometimes.” I laughed as I made the final turn into the parking lot. “No one cares if your bag is neat. They just want you to block the shots.” I cut the engine, and climbed out.

“I can’t block the shot if I can’t find my gear,” she grumbled as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Gear?” I laughed.

“My gloves.” It came out a little forceful, and I knew I needed to stop. Best friend or not, I knew Madi had her limits.

“I’m going to warm up.” I waved as I began walking toward the gate to get onto the field.

“Save some for practice!” Madi shouted as the car door slammed.

She was right, but I couldn’t help it. Pushing myself to the limit was what I did. I set records for assists and goals my first season here, and I didn’t plan on letting anyone come close to breaking them.

When I reached the team bench, I tossed my bag down, and began stretching. My back ached from yesterday’s workout, and I didn’t want to pull anything today. I popped my neck, and twisted from side to side. The stadium appeared massive from this point of view. I never really took it all in. When you’re down here for a game, you zone out. Nothing matters except what’s in front of you. The roar of the crowd fades into the background, and you focus on the job at hand.

I sat down and laced up my cleats. I wanted to run a bit before Coach and the rest of the team showed up. Just as I was standing back up, the gate squeaked, alerting me that Madi had finally made it inside.

“Why the hell do we have to get here so early?” She flung her arms up as she trudged across the turf.

“Because no one will be in the way.” I grinned as I jogged up a few steps to get to the first row of seats in the stands.

“No one will get in your way. They’re all afraid of you.” She laughed as I looked up and stared down the first mountain of steps.

“Time me.” I grinned as I started to climb at a grueling pace.

Up, down, up, down. After two aisles of steps, I stopped. My heart felt as if it would beat out of my chest, and my lungs were burning. I smiled as I bounced down to the field. Pain meant I was doing it right. I was pushing myself to be better, to be great. I bent forward to stretch my legs. It was then that Coach and more team members arrived. There were some grumbles as it was pointed out that I was there early.

“Why can’t you work like Bailey?” One of the new recruits mimicked as she tossed her bag, nearly hitting me. She sneered in my direction before claiming her usual spot on the front row for warmups.

“Ignore her. She was the star at her high school,” another teammate muttered as we started our group stretches.

Practice lasted most of the morning, and by lunchtime, I was quite hot and tired. It was then that I heard a clattering sound coming from the stands. “Oh, boy.” Madi sighed as we stopped by the steps that led down to the field.

“Hey!” A guy with floppy brown hair waved. He was wearing a Nirvana tee and torn baggy jeans. He pushed his hair back, but it fell right back into his eyes.

“Hi?” I stared up. It was hard to see because the sun was shining right in my face.

“You’re Bailey French. You’re a beast on the field. And you’re Madi Ross.” He shifted awkwardly and almost lost his balance, falling onto the field.

“Can we help you with something?” Madi dropped her bag and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been watching you guys play for the last year.” He gripped the back of his neck.

“Great. We have a stalker,” Madi teased, but I think he thought she was serious.

“No!” His eyes went wide. “It’s not like that. I’m not like that.” He pointed to his chest. “I’m Dex. Dex Sloan.” He rushed down the steps to meet us, holding his hand out.

“Hi.” Madi grinned as she shook his hand. “So you’re a soccer fan?”

“Sort of.” His eyes swung over to me. “I never really cared for the sport until I came here.”

“Un huh,” I mumbled.

“Be nice,” Madi hissed.

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