by Kathy Reichs
Please, God. Don’t let me trip over the ball.
As I neared the eighteen-yard box, a defender barreled over. I tapped the ball between her outstretched legs and raced around the awkward slide tackle, nearly stumbling in surprise when the move actually worked. The keeper charged, a look of desperation on her face.
Chip it over. Score. Win!
But before I could exploit the opening, my legs were ruthlessly hacked out from under me. I fell forward, slamming into the turf with a groan. A cleat dug into the small of my back as someone flopped over me from behind.
My head spun. The whistle blew.
I heard Ella shouting. What sounded like shoving.
I looked up.
Blonde Ponytail was standing astride the ball. She and Ella were nose to nose, and they weren’t discussing favorite boy bands. The harridan even had the gall to protest when the official showed her a yellow card. Unfortunately, Ella got one, too.
I rose unsteadily, wiping dirt from my purple Bolton Prep uniform. The official stepped between Ella and Ponytail and signaled a free kick for our side.
“You okay?” Ella was staring at my tormentor, face red with anger.
“Never better.” Gulping air into my lungs. “She seems nice.”
Ella laughed, but the humor didn’t touch her eyes. “That bitch knows you’re better with your feet, so she’s bull-rushing the ball, trying to intimidate you. Don’t let her.”
The official placed the ball fifteen feet beyond the edge of the box, then paced off ten yards. He glanced at his watch. There were only moments left in the match.
As the James Island defenders formed a wall, I began to retreat to my fullback slot.
Ella grabbed my arm. “Want this one? You definitely earned it.”
A generous thought, but Ella was worlds better than me. And everyone else on the field.
Not to mention that taking a game-deciding free kick was too terrifying to contemplate. I’d probably find a way to knock it into our own goal.
Ella frowned. “Well, at least get up there. Look for a rebound.”
Before I could react, Ella cupped her hands to her mouth. “Maddy!”
Madison Dunkle turned. Ella pointed at me, then at Madison, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Madison nodded without hesitation, jogging back to cover my position.
“Take her spot in the middle.” Ella’s rope of black hair brushed the ground as she knelt to position the ball on the grass. We both knew it’d take a miracle to score from this distance. “If the ball bounces your way, just blast it on goal.”
“That I can do.”
I think.
Joining the line of players jockeying for position, I felt an elbow dig into my back. Right where the cleat had struck.
I spun, knowing who I’d find. My temper slipped a notch.
“Be careful, ginger princess.” Ponytail’s eyes glittered with malice. “No more dancing. Things can get rough up here.”
My anger was reaching a boil. “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
The hateful girl shouldered into me, forcing me outside the eighteen-yard box. “Even without your mommy to protect you?” She nodded toward Ella, who was lining up her strike. All eyes were on my friend as she prepared to take the free kick.
Maybe it was ninety minutes of abuse.
Or Ponytail’s smug attitude. Or the hard foul. Or the fact that I was hungry.
Maybe it was her referencing my mother.
SNAP.
I felt a rush of adrenaline.
A thousand suns torched my skin, followed by an ocean of freezing rain.
Energy poured into my muscles. My senses blazed with hyperacuity. Smell. Sight. Sound. Feel. Taste. Each shifted to superhuman clarity and perception.
Golden fire ignited in my eyes.
I flared.
In public. In the open.
In the middle of a freaking soccer game.
I quickly averted my eyes. Thankfully, everyone was watching Ella.
This is crazy. CRAZY.
But I ignored common sense. I was going to show this bully what’s what.
Head lowered, I was about to push back into the scrum when a message winged into my brain.
I was wondering when you’d go wolf style on that beast.
I stopped short, gaze darting to the sideline.
To where Hiram, Shelton, and Ben were lounging on a grassy hill.
Hi! You shouldn’t be flaring in public!
Oh, you’re one to talk. Hi tapped the sunglasses covering his eyes. Like Shelton, he still wore his Bolton Prep uniform, though he’d ditched the jacket, loosened his tie, and removed his shoes and socks. Which of us is standing in a group of strangers?
Okay. Fine. And I’d connected our pack mind without thinking.
I lost my cool, but—
Shh! Just listen. Hi pointed a chubby finger. There’s no one on the back post.
I glanced to my left, pretending to shade my eyes from the sun. He was right—expecting a direct shot, the James Island defenders were clogging the middle of the box.
No one was guarding the flank.
You’re welcome. Hi’s message carried a distinct note of smugness.
Ella was lined up over the ball. I had only seconds.
As casually as possible, I moved along the wall of defenders until I stood farthest right. Then I stuck an arm behind my back, waggling frantically for Ella’s attention.
At the last moment, she spotted my signal. Her eyes narrowed in confusion.
I nodded right. Spun my finger in a circle. Tapped my head.
Ella dipped her chin, then took two steps to the left.
What am I doing? I can’t pull this off!
Noticing Ella’s shift, Ponytail glanced down the line. Spotting my position, her eyes widened. She surged toward me, barreling over a teammate in the process.
Too late.
Ella shot forward and struck the ball.
At the same moment, I spun, looping around the wall and behind the defense.
The ball arced through the air—not toward goal, as everyone expected, but to where I waited at the corner of the six-yard box.
The goalkeeper tried to adjust, scrambling off her line with a muffled curse. Ponytail backpedaled desperately as the ball cut across the clear blue sky.
I leaped high, my flare-powered muscles firing me up with ease. The black-and-white sphere seemed to hang forever. I could smell yesterday’s rain on the wind, could see the cross-stitching on the ball. Heard a collective intake of breath.
I rose. The keeper rose. Ponytail rose.
Then I rose higher still.
I headed the ball as lightly as a feather, directing it into the open net.
Goal.
My first ever.
I landed less gracefully, since both James Island girls slammed me in midair. I hit the ground hard, jamming my knee and tumbling backward, flipping ass over teakettle before rolling to a stop. Then my teammates mobbed me in a giant dog pile.
In the confusion, no one got a good look at my face.
The official consulted his watch, then blew the whistle three times. Game over.
Nice one, Pelé!
Thanks, Hiram.
SNUP.
As the crowd went nuts, Ella dragged me up and smacked my butt. Hard.
“Ow!” Woozy from the loss of my flare.
“You have more hops than any girl I know!” Ella shot a nasty look at Ponytail, who was chewing out her teammates. Catching the girl’s eye, I winked. She practically snarled in frustration before stalking away.
“That was awesome, Tory!” Madison beamed at me as she shook out her wavy auburn hair. We exchanged an awkward hug. I tried not to cringe.
Things were different now—Madison a
nd I had become friendly over the last few weeks—but old habits die hard.
“Thanks, Maddy. And thanks for letting me get forward.”
“When my captain commands, I obey.” Madison squeezed Ella’s arm before trotting toward the sideline. We watched her go with matching headshakes.
“I’m sold.” My shoulders rose and fell. “I can’t explain it, but she really is different.”
“Or she’s after something. But I can’t for the life of me guess what.”
“Maybe she finally had enough of Tripod life.”
Ella grunted noncommittally, eyes heavy with skepticism as she began unstrapping her shin guards. “In my experience, girls like that never change.”
I didn’t respond. Honestly, I felt the same.
Madison and I had history. A dangerous one, for me and my friends.
She’d seen things I fervently wished she hadn’t.
Afterward, Madison had spent months avoiding me. Terrified of me. Scheming against me when she could. But now she’d simply let it all go, just like that? It didn’t seem possible.
Ella nudged me, crashing my train of thought. “Look alive, Brennan. Your cheering section is in full effect.”
Hi and Shelton were standing shoulder to shoulder, clapping and chanting my name. In response to my wave, Hi attempted a running cartwheel, only to stall halfway and flop on his back. Shelton leaned over his prone form and began an exaggerated ten-count. Ben—lying on the grass with his legs crossed—just shook his head at the two of them.
I snorted, pawing through my tangled red hair. “That’s my fan club, huh?”
“Better than not having one.”
“Like you’d know anything about that.” Ella was one of the prettiest girls in school.
“True.” My friend grinned wickedly—she’d recovered her spark since last month’s ordeal, something I was extremely happy to see. “But your followers will have to be patient. Our fearless leader wants us. He looks like he might propose.”
I glanced at our sideline. A grinning Coach Lynch waved us over to where the rest of the team huddled. A look back at the hill. Hi and Shelton were dousing Ben with water bottles as he howled in protest.
My eyes rolled. “Doofuses.”
Ella hooked her arm through mine. “Come on. Time for a well-deserved bow. After all, you’re the man of the match.”
A smile spread across my face. “I am, aren’t I?”
Not bad.
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