you can
pick first,” Ryan said to him then laid his arm over my shoulders. “But not
her.”
Stunned, I
stopped, and I swore Tony stared at Hunter with the same look of amazement as I
did.
Ryan ignored
him. His arm slipped away from me, and the left side of his lips tilted up.
“Play with me?”
Man, I lost my
voice. Hunter knew how miserably I handled the ball. Still, he wanted me on his
team.
Tony awaited my
answer with a comical grin. Since he didn’t seem annoyed at all, I thought I
could as well accept. “O- kay .” And yeah, if that hadn’t come out so much
like a question, I wouldn’t have sounded like a total idiot, too.
“Cool. Let’s
play some ball, guys.” Tony jogged ahead and had his first pick of players.
I didn’t pay
attention to who he called on his team, because Hunter asked me one basic
question then. “Do you know how to play soccer, Matthews?”
“Kick the ball
into the goal?”
He chuckled,
rubbing his neck. “Yeah, that and a little more. For now, just don’t touch the
ball with your hands and try not to kick it past those white lines.” He pointed
at the rectangle marking the playing field.
“You know, I’m not
a complete imbecile.”
Or maybe I was.
Before the first ten minutes were over, I hurt my wrist on the ball zooming
toward me, and twice it went sailing far behind the opposite goal, due to a
kick of mine. Great. But on the plus side, no one snubbed at me like Ryan did
yesterday on the beach.
At least no one
did until I apparently made the most fatal error of all when I aimed for a goal
again.
“Offside,”
several guys shouted at once, some of them rolling their eyes.
I stood totally
at a loss.
“Never mind.
I’ll explain this tomorrow,” Ryan said as he came running toward me and kicked
the ball to someone from Tony’s team. He took position on the field again, but not
before he offered me a grin. “Nice shot.”
He could try,
but it didn’t lift my spirits. Discouraged from the failures, I went to the far
back, close to our own goal, deciding to be the passive player for the rest of
the game. Only that Hunter had different ideas. For some reason he kept me in
the game, sending killer-shots to me, spurring me on to give my best.
And I did. For
three and a half minutes. Then I felt for the first time how a kick against the
shin felt. The pain, when Cloey’s shoe collided with my leg, brought me to the
ground. I bit my lip to stop my eyes from watering.
“Come on, guys!
Fair play!” Ryan shouted. He stood over me and offered me his hand to pull me
up. “You okay?”
I said nothing
but nodded. My voice would have betrayed me otherwise. He sent me back into the
game.
The pain from
that little escapade wasn’t completely gone, when Cloey got me again. I cursed
her in a volume loud enough to compete with a police siren, but it ricocheted
off her thick head. As it happened a third time, I knew she was doing this on
purpose. And from then on I didn’t touch the ball anymore, not to give her a
reason to kill me out on the field.
After the game, Tony
worked his fingers into the muscles at my neck as I hunched on the bench. “If I
had known you’re actually such a good player, I would have made you play with
me every day after school.”
I gave an
irritated snort. His being nice did little to mend my broken pride—or bones.
“That girl chose the wrong sports. She’d be a pro at kick-boxing.”
“Who? Cloey?” At
least this time, he didn’t deny that she was after my life. “Did she get you bad?”
I scowled at him
over my shoulder. “She was like an eighteen-wheeler. Unstopped.”
He bit his lip. “She
can be an aggressive player.”
Which put it
mildly. I sighed. “Are you going to hang here much longer? Because I really
need to go home and tend my bruised shin.” And then I was still grounded, of
course.
The pause he
took to scan the playing field made me wonder if he was looking out for the
troll with the bad temper. The flames of
Brenda Rothert
Kenneth Oppel
Khloe Wren
Rebekkah Ford
Arturo Pérez-Reverte
Steve Stroble
Andrew Shaffer
D. R. Macdonald
Stella Duffy
David Foster Wallace