Page 57 of Problematic Summer Romance

“You have no football, just an organized system of overgrown men giving each other CTE.”

“Soccer, then. Well, thank you for the offer, but I take issue with team sports as a construct—”

“Hey, guys,” he announces. “Maya’s playing with us.”

Eli’s eyes turn to slits. He observes me from across the sand, skeptical. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not?” Conor pulls away, shrugging. “Diego, okay if she’s with you, Eli, and Axel? I’ll be with Sul and Paul.”

Diego gives me the thumbs-up and a wide smile. “Hope you’re ready to give it your all on the path to victory.”

I’m not even willing to give athirdof my all—at least, that’s the intention. Unfortunately, anything with a remotely competitive bent sucks me in harder than a black hole. Fifteen minutes later, I’m very invested in the outcome of this inconsequential and severely dumbed-down game of soccer.Tooinvested.

I don’t like the person that I become when faced with the prospect of losing.Resist it, I beg my weak self.You’re stronger than this.

Then again, what if I’m not? And what if the fault lies in Axel and in subpar efforts? “Hey, Staph Boy?” I snarl after he fails to intercept the ball.

“Yeah?”

“Not a threat or anything, but if you don’t use your legs to run faster,someonemight decide to cut them off.”

His expression is cowardly and not at all NHL-befitting. “W-what?”

“And they might feed them to the jellyfish hanging out in the shallow waters. The ones over there. Just saying—”

“That’s it,” Eli intervenes, facing me, hands on his hips. It gives me portentousYou’re fourteen and I’m about to take away your Dr Pepper privilegesflashbacks. “Maya, out.”

“What?Why?”

“You know why. She’s back—and we do not negotiate with her.”

I gasp. “She isnotback.”

Paul moves closer. Looks between us. “She? Who are you talking about?”

“The Mayageddon,” Sul whispers.

“No,” I protest. “Come on, no. She’s locked in. I was just pointing out that Axel is terribly incompetent and the sole reason we might not win. But like, in a nice, friendly way.”

Eli shakes his head. “You kicked sand at Paul, you tripped poorSul twice—youknowhe has a bad back—and you nearly destroyed Hark’s ability to have children with your knee.”

“I wasmegginghim.”

“Maya, megging involves dribbling the ball through someone else’s spread legs.”

“Precisely!”

“The ball wasn’t even in your half of the field.”

“What? Come on! You can’t kick me out, I can still win this.”

“That’s exactly what the Mayageddon would say.”

I open my mouth to protest, but it dawns on me. “Oh my god.” I bury my face in my hands. “She’s here. She’s fighting to break out.”

Paul clears his throat. “Is this, um, a habitual behavior?”

“No.” I sound desperate. “There’s no behavior. There’s nothis!”

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