Page 77 of Sweeper
When the ball slaps the net, the Emirates Stadium erupts, and my eyes move instantly back to Zander, who’s on his knees, shoving his hands through his hair and looking painfully distraught. He shakes his head and stands up, his eyes turn toward the sidelines where Vaughn and Tanner are embracing Camden after his goal, passing out congratulations.
I move my gaze back to Zander, and the expression on his face is confused. He might even be angry. And not just from getting burned, but he almost seems bothered that they’re congratulating Camden after the play? Perhaps he doesn’t understand how close the Harris family is. They may be opponents right now, but anyone who knows this family knows that they blindly support each other, no matter what kit they’re wearing.
Zander turns his back on them, spits into the grass, and gets back into position. The score is tied in the eighty-eighth minute. Bethnal Green has a corner kick, and everyone is pushing up into the Arsenal box, including Zander. Booker looks all alone in the back half as he cheers on his team loudly. This is likely Bethnal Green’s last chance to score.
The corner kick comes in, and Roan DeWalt leaps up to crush a header. The ball hits the crossbar and goes wide. As Roan comes down, a defender’s elbow cracks him right on the side of his head, propelling him sideways. When Roan hits the ground, he isn’t moving, and the entire stadium goes deathly quiet.
A ref signals to the medical team on Bethnal’s side, and I see Indie’s red hair pop out as she sprints out onto the pitch with a carrier of supplies. Another medical person and possibly a nurse join her as they hunch down to assess Roan’s injury.
“Concussion, I’m betting,” I state, my hands on my cheeks with anxiety. If I was Roan’s wife, Allie, I would be a nervous wreck right now. Headers are scary business, which is why they take head injuries so seriously in the league.
“Who will kick the penalty shot I wonder?” Phoebe asks, her voice hollow with worry.
“The other striker, Billy Campbell, I’m sure,” I answer distractedly as I notice movement on the sidelines. I glance down and see Booker jogging over to Coach Zion to discuss something. He’s pointing out to the pitch, and Coach Z doesn’t look like he likes what Booker is saying. Vaughn and Tanner come over to join the discussion, and they seem to be much more on board with whatever plan Booker has.
When Roan finally stands up, the entire stadium cheers in relief. Even the Arsenal fans. No one ever likes to see an injury on the pitch. The medics assist Roan to the sidelines as the ref sets about resuming the match.
Bethnal Green now has a penalty kick that could win the game if they can manage to get it past the Arsenal keeper who has been on fire today. I watch in curiosity as Booker jogs over to Zander, puts his hand on his shoulder, and points at the net. Zander looks confused and glances over at Coach Zion and Vaughn, who are both nodding back at him.
Finally, looking rather dazed, Booker and Zander part ways as Zander jogs over to the penalty spot and positions himself to take the kick.
“Are they having Zander take the kick?” I ask, gripping Phoebe’s arm tightly as my eyes feel permanently glued to the pitch.
“You’re hurting me!” Phoebe exclaims, peeling my fingers off her.
“Oh, my God, he’s taking the kick!” I glance down at the sideline like maybe he’s just holding the position for someone else. But there’s no one else.
“Well, clearly Roan isn’t up for it,” Phoebe offers, and I shake my head in confusion.
“I know, but…Zander’s so new!” I tear my eyes away from the pitch to look at Phoebe. My entire body tingles with anticipation. “This is mental!”
“I expect they know what they’re doing,” Phoebe replies and clutches my arm as we both refocus on the pitch.
The ref blows his whistle, and Zander pauses for a moment, exhaling a heavy breath before doing a slow jog up that quickly shifts into a sprint. He does a unique little hopping move right before he kicks with his right boot and delivers a sweetheart of a strike up to the top of the net.
Goal, Bethnal Green.
I don’t even realize I’m screaming until Phoebe swirls me around to face her. I finally gasp for air and then start screaming again as I thrust my hand up into the air. The entire team is swarming Zander. Even Vaughn Harris jogs out onto the pitch to congratulate his sweeper. Eventually, I realize that Phoebe and I are the only ones properly losing our minds in our section, so I calm myself down and enjoy the view of Zander running back to his position on the other end of the pitch. The final seconds run out, and it’s a Bethnal Green victory, two to one.
Daphney
My voice is hoarse by the time Phoebe and I make our way out of the stadium. I was in a daze as Phoebe stood in the stands for ages talking to the bloke who gave us the tickets. I’ve never experienced a football game this close in my life, and it’s an experience I will take to my bloody grave.
We finally make it outside when I hear a voice call out my name. “Daphney, is that you?”
I look off into the distance and spot the blonde hair of my sister-in-law, Vi, running toward me. “What are you doing here?” she asks, embracing me in a hug. “Were you at the match? Where were you sitting?”
I shake off the stupor I’m still feeling from that match and clear my hoarse throat to reply, “We had first row seats that Phoebe scored.”
“I know a bloke.” Phoebe laughs and flicks her hair over her shoulder.
“Oh my God, I would have loved to have joined you guys,” Vi nearly growls as she ushers Phoebe and me over to where Poppy, Belle, and Allie are standing by a chain-link fence. “We were high up in a suite because that’s what Camden booked us, and no one can hear me screaming from up there.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. They heard this one,” Phoebe says, grabbing hold of my arm and pointing at me. “You should have heard her bellowing like a banshee at every play. Especially at the end when Zander took that shot.”
“How is Roan doing?” I ask, turning my focus to Allie because it had to be scary seeing him lying on the pitch like that.
“He’s doing okay,” she replies with a sad smile. “Indie called and told me he’s on concussion protocol, again, but they think he’ll be cleared in a week. I just want to get him home and into bed. Is it awful of me to be ready for him to retire already?”
