Page 81 of Surrender
“Why not? Don’t you like football?” I ask, grabbing a ball and tossing it in my hands in front of her.
“Yes, I think so, but my mummy wouldn’t like me playing.”
“Did she not sign the waiver?” I ask, glancing over to the sideline for a staff member. If a parent didn’t sign a waiver, this little girl can’t play.
“My dad signed it,” she says, redirecting my focus to her.
I stand up and hold the ball out to her. “Then we should be okay. You only need one parent’s signature.”
She squeezes the green neon ball in her hands and stares down at it intently as she asks, “What if I get hurt? Mummy says football can be kind of rough.”
The sad slump of her shoulders nearly breaks my heart. I squat down in front of her again, and she pins me with her innocent eyes that are probably exactly what got her father to bring her today against her mother’s wishes. It’d be bloody impossible to refuse this little beauty anything she wanted.
I tuck a finger under her chin and lift it to me with a soft smile. “Cheer up, kid. Injuries are part of being an athlete, but we’re going to be taking it easy today. Today is just about fun. We won’t get rough, I promise.”
“Just fun?” She pins me with a look like she’s not sure she can trust me.
I smile and make anXover my chest. “Cross my heart.”
Her eyes alight with this new information “That is excellent news.” Without warning, she drops the ball and wraps her arms around my neck in an unexpected hug, nearly knocking me backwards in the process.
She releases me, grabs her ball, and jogs over to the hoard of girls all waiting. I give Brown Eyes a thumbs up when she finds a place to stand, then instruct the girls to have a seat on their footballs.
A photographer comes over and begins snapping photos as I squat down and explain what we’re going to do. “We’re going to play a game called Sharks and Minnows. The minnows will each have a ball while the sharks try to steal them. Now, who wants to be a shark?”
All the girls’ hands shoot up into the air, except for Brown Eyes.
“You can’t all be sharks, so I’ll have to count you off. Ones are sharks, twos are minnows.”
I begin counting them off, and Brown Eyes ends up being a shark. “I really wanted to be a minnow,” she pouts.
“Everyone will get a chance to be both.”
She sighs heavily. “Okay, I’ll just have to try extra hard to get a ball because I really want to kick a ball. I’ve never kicked a ball before.”
“You’ll have lots of chances to kick a ball today,” I huff with a laugh.
Sharks and Minnows is a mess. None of the girls know how to properly kick a ball. When I decide to join the sharks and try to steal from the minnows, the girls swarm me, asking me to steal their balls. Regardless, the game is full of giggles. I even end up falling on the ground in an attempt to not pummel a little girl I didn’t see under my feet.
When I’m down on the ground laughing and trying to figure out how to regain control of this horrid game, my eyes fall over to the sideline. My smile dies when a familiar figure comes into view.
Sloan is over there, thrusting an angry finger into the face of a suited man who’s standing amongst the other potential sponsors. At first, I think she’s interested in contributing. Then I recall the fact that she told me she was travelling this week. What the fuck is going on?
The man is clearly uninterested in what she has to say, barely looking away from his phone as Sloan continues screaming at him. She pauses for a second and the man finally looks up from his mobile and points out toward me.
Sloan’s eyes scan the pitch and go wide when they land on me. Taking a deep breath, she diverts her gaze to the right and marches out onto the pitch, her purse clutched tightly on her shoulder. She’s on a mission.
I assume she’s coming out to talk to me, but she veers right and heads toward the brown-eyed stunner who’s been charming me for the past thirty minutes.
“Sophia, we have to go.” Sloan’s voice is shaky as she reaches out and grabs her hand.
The little girl yanks her hand away and states firmly, “I’m finally a minnow. I just got a ball! I don’t want to stop playing. I like football.”
“Sophia!” Sloan shrieks, turning her back on me. “Do not argue with me. We are leaving.”
I stand up from the ground and make my way over to them, ready to help with whatever is going on. How does Sloan know this child?
“We’re just playing. It’s not a real game. I won’t get hurt!” the little girl whines, then adds at the end, “Please, Mummy!”
