Page 5 of Stealing for Keeps
“Disco?”
“Yeah.” His smile widens, and he makes a circle in front of his face. “Because of all the glitter. What’s going on there?”
I wipe a hand down my face. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ll bet. You kind of look like theTwilightdude when he steps into the sunlight.” He looks like he’s holding back laughter. I guess I can’t blame him. “I’m Rowan. You’re with us.” He motions with his head for me to join him and two other guys standing nearby.
“Thanks. I mixed up the location and went to the gym first.”
“Ah, yeah. No, we only start there on Fridays for weight training. Mondays and Wednesdays, we do weights after practice. And sometimes, when the girls’ team has a home game, we’ll end there so they can prep the field.”
Frost Lake High is three times as big as my last school. Back there, everything was in one general area. Here, the gym and the field are on opposite sides of the huge property. My head is spinning, and Rowan must realize it because he laughs.
“You’ll figure it out. Until next week, just come here. Before practice starts preferably.”
“Thanks. So what are we supposed to be doing?” A few of the groups are already on the field. I’m anxious to get to work. I desperately want to change Coach Collins’s opinion of me, and the easiest way for me to do that is with my game.
“Passing drills on the far side.” As he points, Rowan leads our group toward the orange cones set up for us.
In the distance, two girls are sitting in the grass. I recognize the girl I ran into in the hallway. She’s staring this way but too far away for me to read her expression. I hold up a hand in a friendly wave. She doesn’t acknowledge me, which isn’t surprising. I’m not usually a jerk, but I was late and frazzled. I didn’t see the boot on her foot until after I nearly trampled her. She is beautiful though. Hopefully there are lots of beautiful girls walking around the halls next week when school starts.
We break off into groups of two for passing drills. The other guys introduce themselves as Hunter and Blake before pairing off, leaving Rowan with me.
“What year are you?” he asks as we work out.
“Junior. You?”
“Same.”
We fall quiet as the assistant coach walks by and watches each of us in action.
When he’s gone, Rowan asks, “What school are you coming from?”
“Valley High.”
“Is that near Detroit?”
I give my head a shake as I send the ball back to him. “Nah, Arizona.”
“Damn. That’s a long way. What brought you to Michigan?”
“Coach Collins. Frost Lake High.”
“No shit?” He stops the ball and looks up at me. His brows lift, and one side of his mouth quirks up.
“He’s the best, and the program he’s built here is everything I’ve dreamed of.” Jude Collins: former English professional footballer, arguably the greatest midfielder of his generation, and my idol since I was seven. I would have walked over broken glass to learn from him. Since he’s taken over as head coach, Frost Lake has produced some of the most promising young soccer stars. Many have gone on to receive college scholarships to play soccer and two have even been drafted to professional teams.
“Was your old team any good?”
“We did all right.” I shrug. We weren’t terrible, but in the two years I played, we never made it past the quarterfinals. Frost Lake’s record is unmatched. The best talent in the country in a public-school setting—something that was very important to my parents. I’d be happy if soccer was my only priority, but they feel differently.
I’m excited to see how I match up with these guys—if I don’t get cut before I get a chance to show my new coach what I can do.
The whistle blows, indicating we need to switch to the next drill. For the next hour, I do nothing but focus on playing my heart out. I get to know Rowan as well. He’s a midfielder with the best spatial awareness of anyone I’ve played with.
We’re taking a water break, and the other guys are chatting with one another. There’s one group still going, and Coach Collins stands on the sideline watching.
After splashing some water over my head, I approach him.
