Page 77 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Thank goodness, or Coach would’ve had a conniption.
Tobey pats me on the back as we run back to the center of the field.
I don’t get back to the goal circle for the rest of the first half. When we’re on our half-time break, Coach gives me a lecture about not using the rest of the team. When I deadpan him, he relents and congratulates me on the goal.
Damn straight. It’s our only goal, and it’s thanks to me.
The second half is a lot tougher. Were our opponents saving up their energy, or what? Somehow, they sneak a goal past Tyler. He’s still beating himself up about it.
“Head in the game, Ty!” I call out. “Curse yourself after the buzzer.”
The other team is still hyped. There’s another three attempts by them to make a goal, and this time, Tyler blocks them all. On the third, he tosses the ball high and long, and I’m right there to headbutt it in Paul’s direction.
Paul dribbles past center field, but he’s charged by another opponent. With excessive force, the opponent knocks Paul to the ground. The ref blows his whistle at the same time Coach is cursing from the sideline. Two of our teammates help Paul to his feet, and he shakes it off, nodding to the ref he can still play.
One of our midfielders takes the free kick, aiming in Tobey’s direction.
Bad decision.
Someone with low-vision could tell Tobey was marked by two players. The other team gains possession of the ball and their players run up the field. Again, I need to defend. All I want is to get back to that goal circle. I eye the clock on the scoreboard. Five minutes left.
We can’t have a tie. I will not allow a tie.
I watch the ball in play, and notice the other team’s wing losing steam. With every scrap of energy I have left, I dart toward him. I make a move to my right, and then switch to my left. His exhaustion is my gain, leaving him dizzy as I tap the ball away.
Careful with my dribble, I look ahead for opposing players. My team marks them up, and I spy a gap. Can I do it twice in one game? I can already hear Coach calling out to me not to do it, but screw it.
I want to win.
I dart between the gaps and keep my eyes on the goal. The goalie is running out to the top of the goal circle, attempting to intimidate me.
Doesn't he remember me from previous games?
I do the intimidating.
When he runs at me, I’m quick to flick the ball behind me. I kick it away with the back of my heel, and Tobey runs onto the ball. Racing toward the goal, Tobey lines it up perfectly. He kicks it across the goal circle, and I’m on it. One touch, just for Coach.
The buzzer sounds at the same time the ref confirms the goal. I let the bubbling emotions burst out. Dropping to my knees, I skid across the blades of grass with a cheer of satisfaction. My teammates stampede toward me, and then they dogpile on top of me.
When I come up for air, I catch Tyler halfway through a backflip in the goal circle. I raise a fist in his direction, signaling I couldn’t have done it without him.
Back on my own two feet, I follow my teammates to shake hands with the losers. Ah-hem. I mean, the other team.
Off the field, my parents are quick to wrap me in hugs. Mom is quick to grimace, commenting on the sweat and grass stains.
“What did you expect?” I smirk. “Didn't you see me kicking butt out there?”
Jamie rushes in and hangs her arm around my neck. “Good job, bro. You kicked some serious butt. Now, I gotta run.”
“Already?”
“Hey, you’re lucky I came at all. You know Maddy hates when I bail on the café on Sundays. I've gotta get back before she has a complete meltdown.”
“Hang around and my parents will drop you off.”
She shakes her head. “Maddy already sent someone to pick me up. They’re waiting in the parking lot.” She paces backward. “Congrats again.”
I wave her off. “I’ll meet up with you later.”
