Kicked

by Celia Aaron

  The next kicker was dismal, and several after that fared almost as badly as Allen. One of them did better, only missing two kicks until he got to the thirty-yard line where his accuracy tanked. Three more mediocre ones tried their best. Then one of the few remaining men ran out onto the field. He had a head full of bright red hair, and when he dashed into the sun to line up, it blazed copper.

  “Wow. That hair is gorgeous.” I stared as he measured off his steps. He was a left-footed kicker. Rare.

  Landon shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  I smirked. “Please. If you saw a cute girl with hair like that, you’d be all over it.”

  “So?”

  “I prefer brunettes.” Trent broke his silence.

  I glanced back, but his eyes remained fixed on the copper-headed kicker.

  “Me too.” Landon shifted closer to me.

  “Hawthorne, get set!” Coach Carver had warmed in the sun, his voice rising in pitch and irritation.

  Hawthorne made his first field goal from the ten, then his second. Coach Carver shouted for him to change to the left hash. He walked over and lined up his shot. The first sailed through. The second veered hard left and missed by two feet or so. I felt relieved, though I knew it wasn’t a kind attitude on my part.

  He backed up ten yards and made two of four kicks. At the thirty, something in his posture changed. He seemed to stand up straighter, as if his confidence increased with distance.

  Trent stepped over the bench and stood beside me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re next. Make sure you’re still warmed up.”

  The redhead made two perfect kicks from the right hash, then moved to the left. I stood and walked a few steps away to go back over some of my stretches. I pulled my right heel up to my ass and held it there as Hawthorne sent another perfect kick between the uprights from the left hash of the thirty-yard line.

  “Send him to the forty,” Coach Sterling called.

  Coach Carver obeyed and set Hawthorne up on the right hash. I dropped my right leg and pulled on my left. Hawthorne got set and took his long steps to the ball. It flew off his foot, straight down the middle of the field.

  “Holy shit, that kid’s good.” Landon glanced over at me, his gaze tracing the line of my body as I bent over and put my hands flat on the turf. “You’re flexible.”

  Trent stepped around him and sat on the bench, blocking Landon’s view.

  Another ball flew through the uprights from the forty-yard line. The few players who came to watch tryouts began talking amongst themselves, a slight buzz of excitement in the air.

  Trent nodded and turned to me. “He’s our long-distance guy.”

  Coach Carter pulled Hawthorne down the field and handed him a ball and pointed. The guy held the ball, ran, and kicked a perfect punt, the ball landing at the five-yard line and rolling one more yard closer to the end zone.

  “He’s definitely our guy.”

  “All right. Next!” Coach Sterling clapped his hand and motioned Hawthorne over to him.

  “Come on.” Trent ran out onto the field as Coach Carver started to call another name.

  “Whoa, Coach. Cordy’s ready to try.”

  I followed him out into the sun. Roping my hair up into a tight ponytail, I tried to settle my nerves as I approached the ten-yard line. My hands went cold like they always did, and my stomach roiled, as if displeased with my choice of cereal for breakfast.

  Coach Carver put a hand on his hip and glared at Trent. “It’s not her turn yet. I put her last since she’s already on the team.”

  “She’s ready now.” Trent took a ball from the equipment bag and knelt at the ten.

  “Come on, Coach.” I gave what I hoped was a winning smile. I didn’t know why Trent wanted me to go right then, but I suspected it had something to do with the redhead.

  Coach waved his hand. “Fine, fine. Go ahead. You’re lucky I like you, Baxter.” He stepped back and took the same spot where he’d watched everyone else from. “Trent, we got a tee for that.”

  He smiled. “I know. I just wanted to see if she could handle the real deal.”

  Something about the way he said it pricked my pride. I stood tall, and walked to where he held the ball. “Try not to drop it.”

  “Never have.” His eyes were warm despite his cocky tone. “You got this,” he whispered where only I could hear.

  I know.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  TRENT

  THE FEISTY LOOK IN her eye was exactly what I wanted. Confidence was everything to a kicker, and just by the way she stood I could tell hers was where it needed to be.

  “Whenever you’re ready.” Coach Carver tapped his foot on the grass.

  Cordy let out a long breath and took her backwards steps. Then she counted off to the right just as we’d practiced. She let her arms go loose, then took off. Step, step, step, plant, kick. She nailed it, sending the smell of grass and earth into my nose as the ball split the uprights at perfect center.

  Coach Carver whistled as the ball hit the net and rolled down to the field.

  Cordy watched it with a look that verged on disbelief.

  “Again.” I motioned for the ball boy to toss me another.

  I set up, and Cordy marked off her steps. She sent the second ball to the same spot as the first.

  “Left hash!” Coach Carver yelled, a smile crinkling the brown skin around his mouth.

  We set up, and she sent two more coasting into the net. I could almost feel her confidence growing with each kick. Her form was as close to perfect as I could get it, her foot planted just right and her follow-through strong.

  She aced two thirty-yarders from the right hash. When we set up on the left, she shook her hands out, as if they were bothering her.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She kept her eyes on the field goal. “When I get nervous they sort of freeze.”

  I had the urge to stand and warm her hands in mine, but one glance at the sideline nixed that idea. Coach Sterling had the redheaded kicker sitting next to him, both men watching Cordy with interest.

  “Keep it up. You got this.” I set up, and she gave another perfect kick.

  She looked over at Coach Sterling and cursed under her breath.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She shook her hands again. “They’re just all looking at me.”

  “I know how you feel. Remember speech class?”

  Her face fell the slightest bit. Fuck. I hurriedly continued, “I meant, I felt that same way, but you got me through it. Just concentrate. You could make these kicks in your sleep.”

  She backed away and got set. When she took her first step, I knew something was off in her approach. She kept coming and kicked. The ball flew to the right and missed by only a foot.

  Laughter erupted from the sidelines. Ethan doubled over and guffawed as Cordy dropped her eyes to the turf.

  “I think that’s enough for her. We can move on to the next.” Coach Carver lifted the bullhorn.

  “Way to go, princess!” Ethan’s yell had me on my feet. He was long overdue for a lesson in manners.

  “No.” Cordy popped her head up. “I want to try for a forty-yarder.”

  Coach lowered the horn to his waist. “That’s a long kick for most men, Cordelia. I don’t think—”

  “Let me try.” She clasped her hands together. “You can at least give me a chance.”

  “She can do it, Coach.” I stayed put, though Ethan’s overdone laughter was like a nail in my temple.

  The laughter stopped, and yells broke out along the sideline. We all looked over to see Ethan throw Landon to the ground and climb on top of him.

  Cordy shrieked and took off toward them. I caught up and passed her as Ethan began raining blows down on Landon’s face.

  “Stop!” Cordy’s scream spurred me forward.

  I threw my shoulder into Ethan and ignored the pain radiating into my arm. He fell sideways, and I landed on my ass next to Landon, who tried to scr
amble up and go after Ethan.

  “Landon!” Cordy dropped to her knees and grabbed his t-shirt with both hands, yanking him back around to her.

  His nose was bleeding, and one eye was puffy, probably well on its way to a shiner.

  A couple of other players held Ethan back as he scrambled to his feet. “Put your hands on me again, and I’ll break your scrawny neck!” He surged forward, trying to get at Landon.

  “Hold him back!” I thrust out my right hand, my shoulder stinging from the effort.

  “What the hell is going on?” Coach Sterling shuffled up to the ruckus, his face turning into a wrathful mask. “We don’t fight on my team. We are champions. Champions don’t act like this!” He yelled into Ethan’s face, then turned to look at Landon. “And who the hell are you?”

  “I’ve got him, Coach. He was just leaving.” I wedged my left shoulder under Landon’s arm and got him to his feet. Cordy stood with me and pressed her fingertips to his nose.

  He winced. “Jesus, that hurts.”

  “Get him out of here, and you”—Coach pointed a crooked finger at Ethan—“I know you think you’re above the rules, but I’m here to tell you: you aren’t. One more screw up and I’ll bench your ass. I don’t care what the administration says.” He snugged his ball cap tighter on his head. “Carver, get the next kicker out there.”

  “Coach, wait. I wanted to try for a forty-yarder.” Cordy’s calm voice was a welcome note.

  “No need. Next!” Coach waved an impatient hand toward the bench where only a few kickers remained.

  “But Coach—”

  “Cordelia Baxter! I am the coach of this team, and I said you’re done!” The small spider veins along Coach’s nose pulsed with anger, and he leaned down to get in her face. “Any more back talk and you’ll be taking a lap.”

  “Cordy, come on.” I grabbed her elbow.

  She hesitated, but eventually walked around Coach and toward the field exit. Landon and I followed.

  Coach grabbed my shirt before I could walk past. “I saw what you did. Never risk your throwing arm over a guy like Ethan, got me? Go see the trainers today. Tell them to check you over.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good job all the same.” He clapped me on the back and turned toward the field to watch the next kicker.

  Landon threw his arm around Cordy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “You did great.”

  Going caveman and ripping her away from him seemed like the most gratifying move, but I could imagine Cordy would be less than pleased with that idea.

  “He wouldn’t even let me kick the full distances.” She lowered her head.

  I caught up and walked on her other side. “He’s right. You were amazing out there.”

  “She doesn’t need you anymore, Trent.” Landon glared at me over her head. “Go on your douchey way.”

  “Landon.” She shook her head, her ponytail swinging with the movement.

  “What?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as we walked out of the stadium and into the parking lot.

  “Let’s just get you back to your dorm. We need to do something about your nose.”

  “My nose is fine. Wait—” His glare turned into a smile. “Actually, it kind of hurts. Your dorm is closer. Do you have anything to fix me up there?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll drive.” My car was parked right at the front of the lot, and I wasn’t about to let Landon go back to her dorm with her alone.

  “We can walk.” He turned her away from my car and toward the quad.

  I couldn’t let her go. “Come on, Landon. Ethan rang your bell. You need to take it easy for a minute. Let me drive you.”

  “He’s right.” Cordy stopped, forcing Landon to stop with her. “Just let him drive us.”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  She whirled on him. “And you’re an idiot for trying to jump a lineman twice your size! What were you thinking?”

  “He was talking shit about you.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t let him do that.”

  “Ethan is an overgrown toddler. I don’t care what he says. You shouldn’t either.”

  “Well, I do. I care. A lot.” He put more emotion into his words than I liked.

  “And I appreciate it.” She softened her stance and stepped closer to him. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know. Come on. Help me back to your place and take care of me. It’s the least you could do after ditching me for taco Tuesday and this.” He pointed at his still-bloody nose.

  She glanced back at me and then at Landon.

  I willed her to choose me. She hesitated.

  “Come on.” Landon ran his hand around her elbow. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear.

  Never in my life had I felt my blood turn as hot and as fast as it did then.

  Cordy nodded. “I know.”

  Landon shot me a triumphant smirk as they walked toward her dorm.

  Fuck. I’d really screwed things up with her. But I wouldn’t give up. I would never give up.

  I followed them.

  Landon turned around. “Where are you going?”

  “You wouldn’t let me drive you, so I’ll just have to walk with you.” I took Cordy’s other elbow.

  She didn’t shake me off, and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

  It was enough to give me hope. At least Landon lost the skip in his step. Despite the fact that it looked like Landon and I were Stormtroopers escorting Princess Leia, I was happy to be near Cordy.

  “I meant it when I said you did well.” I guided her onto the sidewalk cutting across campus. The storm had knocked the leaves from the oaks, leaving the branches bare enough so the sun could filter down on us as we walked.

  Cordy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s like doing post mortem on a test or something. Nothing good can come of it.”

  “That redhead, though.” Landon shook his head. “His long-game was tight.”

  “Short-game was for shit.” I peered down at Cordy. “No one kicked better than you.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t see everyone because someone decided to start a sideline brawl.” She shoved her hip into Landon’s.

  Was I jealous of that little point of contact? Yes.

  “I’m cautiously optimistic.” Landon bumped her back.

  “No one could touch you on the shorter distances,” I said. “And the redhead had a hell of a lot of leg from the longer yardages. You plus the redhead are the perfect match.” I hurried to add, “On the football field. Just for kicking.”

  “I followed.” She smirked. “Thanks.”

  I needed to get her alone, to apologize and try again to explain everything. One look at Landon told me that wouldn’t happen today.

  “Don’t fall for it. You know who he really is.” Landon’s harsh voice destroyed what little ground I’d just gained as Cordy stiffened, her smile long gone.

  I didn’t have a comeback. There wasn’t one. He was right. Cordy did know the real me. The one who fell in love with her two years ago. I just had to remind her of who I was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CORDY

  THE SHARP KNOCK ON my door almost made me drop my laptop.

  “Whoa, there.” Landon rose from the end of my bed and stretched. The late afternoon sun filtered through my blinds and painted his upper body in orange stripes. He’d been playing on his phone for an hour and making eyes at Ellie. “I’ll get it.”

  “No.” I stood and darted past him. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s an all-girls’ dorm? Hide behind the door. If the RA sees you, we’ll be in big trouble.”

  He sauntered behind the door and kept texting as I eased it open. A bouquet of flowers covered my entire field of vision. I swung the door open to find Trent smiling with his arms full of the largest bouquet I’d ever seen. White roses and blue hydrangeas—team colors—bloomed in a vivid display.

  His smile brightened, his perfect dimples m
aking my heart skip a few beats. “I just got word. You’re our starting kicker.”

  I squealed and threw the door open. “Are you kidding?”

  “Not even a little bit.” He walked in and handed me the flowers. When he glanced to Landon, he tensed the slightest bit, but his smile was still there. “Congratulations!”

  Excitement and disbelief churned inside me. I stared up at him, barely visible through the forest of flowers. “Are you sure?” My voice shook.

  “I just left Coach’s office.” He stepped closer, the clean smell of his soap mixing with the sweetness from the flowers. “You’re the first-string short kicker. Hawthorne, the redhead is the long-kicker, technically second-string.”

  “Oh my God!” I jumped up and down and ran around in a small circle like an idiot.

  “You did it!” Landon scooped me up in a hug, my bare feet dangling off the floor. “I knew you could do it.”

  Even Ellie rose from her spot at the desk and walked over to inspect the flowers. “Wow.”

  Excitement thrilled through me, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as Landon released me. Had it really happened?

  “I can’t believe it.” I turned back to Trent and took the flowers, hugging them gently to me. “They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re well-deserved.” His voice and the look of pride in his eyes thrilled me more than they should have, especially after last night.

  Ellie claimed the flowers from me. “I’ll put them in some water. Or maybe the sink. We don’t have anything big enough to hold them.”

  I looked up into Trent’s kind eyes as he moved closer, his large frame perfectly dressed in a light blue button-down and well-fitting jeans. My emotions vacillated from ecstatic to still hurt, to unsure, and back to something warmer. “Thank you.”

  The tap in our small bathroom turned on as Ellie fussed with the flowers.