Page 144 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Smack.
Kai and the other player crash into each other, and the sound makes my insides clench.
“Crap,“ Freddy hisses.
I grab onto Freddy’s bicep. “Is he okay?”
On the other side of the group of people between us, I can’t help noticing Kai’s mom flailing her arms and raising her voice as she speaks to her husband.
The referee blows the whistle, and my fingers claw into Freddy’s hoodie as I watch Kai wince and rub between his shoulder and neck.
“Tab, are you trying to draw blood?”
With my heart in my throat, I release my brother. “Sorry.”
The referee grants a free kick to the other team, resulting in thunderous groans around us. I spy Kai’s parents again and they’re taking out their stress on both themselves and the ref.
Kai paces a few feet, massaging his shoulder, and then cracks his neck from side to side. Even from back here, I can see the discomfort on his face.
There goes another belly flip.
The other player moves about with a limp and is sent off the field. The ref asks Kai if he’s okay to play, and he nods despite the calls from his coach.
One of the other team’s forwards positions himself for the free kick.
“Oof.“ Freddy winces. “Right at the top of the goal circle. Not ideal.”
My belly does backflips. “You think they could score?”
“Well, there’s a lot of players crammed up there. Could go either way.”
I watch Kai, shifting between two opposing players, trying to block both of them from receiving the ball. The player with the free kick opts for kicking to another player outside of the goal circle. Things get less congested as players move about the top end of the field.
There’s an attempt at the goal, and Freddy and I both let out a cheer when our team’s goalie, Tyler, dives on the ball. Kai moves out of the goal circle like he and Tyler share a telepathic language.
Holding the ball, Tyler runs from the goal. The rest of the team makes a run for it, and my heart tugs as I watch Tyler search for Kai. With sheer force, Tyler kicks the ball half the length of the field. Jumping into the air, Kai headbutts the ball, sending it towards another teammate.
Kai builds speed, racing down the dead center of the field. His teammates pass the ball, and soon it scuttles toward the goal circle. Skidding into its path, Kai connects with the ball and winds his leg back. The cracking sound shockwaves toward us, and the ball ricochets off the backing of the goal.
The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the match, and Kai leaps into the air. Pulling his shirt halfway up his torso in triumph, his cheering teammates encircle him.
As I watch the scoreboard change to four-nil, I clasp Freddy’s wrist. “He won!”
27
“Dang.Whatamatch,”Freddy says in awe.
“I’m so glad I got to see him score a goal. Wow, I hope he’s okay after that collision with another player.”
Freddy clutches my hand and drag me closer to Kai’s friends and family.
“Fred,“ I hiss with discomfort.
He plays deaf and plants me behind Kai’s parents. The butterflies inside me spiral into turmoil. We are way too freaking close.
The teams move about the field, shaking hands with each other as a sign of respect.
“Oh, I’ll ring his neck,” Mrs. Nelson says to her husband.
