Perfect. Another crush ruined by soccer.
Chloe froze. She had been doing so well avoiding thinking about how attracted she was to Madeleine. Well, she could continue to ignore that. Probably.
She donned her ski jacket with a renewed commitment to staying unattached. She was preparing to leave when she heard Madeleine’s low voice from her left.
“And Chloe, sorry about your ass. It looks fine from where I’m sitting, though.”
The floor dropped out from beneath Chloe, the sensation of free fall nearly overpowering her. What the hell does that mean? Chloe’s mind exploded, a million thoughts buzzing around in it and impairing her ability to formulate a response. Turning, she saw Madeleine sitting, bag in hand, hair thrown into a messy bun, gorgeous face full of mischief.
Before Chloe could come up with a response or hide the flood of color warming her cheeks, Madeleine went on. “I’ll meet you on the field outside your classroom after school tomorrow. Don’t get lost on your way there.”
Nodding, Chloe turned to leave. How in the hell had everything suddenly gotten so complicated?
Chapter Seven
Wednesday
For most of the day, Chloe almost managed to forget that she had promised to play goalie after school. Two of her classes had a test coming up at the end of the week and the kids were slightly panicked. They had kept her too busy to worry much about her appointment with Madeleine—until Taylor had dropped by before fourth block. Her observation that Chloe resembled a condemned prisoner had brought her anxiety front and center in a nanosecond.
Chloe watched her kids file out of the classroom, knowing she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. She had agreed to undergo certain embarrassment in front of Madeleine, and if past experience was any indicator, her embarrassment would not be of the endearing sort. She stood and walked to her tiny office to change.
“Don’t tell me you’re running away from little old me?”
The sound of Madeleine’s voice cheered her, if only momentarily.
“I’ll admit the thought had crossed my mind.” In truth it was still very tempting, though the prospect of Madeleine’s company made the escape plan slightly less appealing, “Don’t you have a practice or something? Such an accomplished coach can’t really be wasting her time with the likes of me, can she?”
“Silly basketball coach. Soccer players wake up early to weight train and do conditioning. The girls got everything done this morning so they could take the afternoon off. Now, the real question is what tragedy befell you to make you so averse to a little bit of footie?” Madeleine’s tone was light, but there was genuine interest on her face.
“It really is a pathetic story. Let me change and I’ll consider telling you on our walk out.”
Nodding, Madeleine hopped onto a lab bench to wait, agile in even the simplest movement. A flash of skin, taut over firm abs, caught Chloe’s attention immediately. Pausing to take in the rest of Madeleine’s appearance, she saw she was wearing a dry-fit, long-sleeved T-shirt with slim-fitting warm-up pants, tight at her ankles, that followed the contours of very muscular calves. Whereas Chloe’s legs were long and sinewy, Madeleine’s looked powerful, even when hidden beneath sweatpants. She looked every bit the image of the Division I soccer stud with an apparent women’s national team stint under her belt as well. Christ, what have I gotten myself into?
As Chloe emerged from the office wearing fitted black Adidas sweatpants and a gray quarter-zip running top, Madeleine turned her attention away from the poster at the back of the room and back to Chloe. The light in her eyes remained as she took in Chloe’s transformation.
“All it took was a pair of sweatpants to turn you into a confident keeper!”
“It’s going to take a little more than magic pants to do that.”
Laughing at the ridiculousness of their situation, the pair walked to the warm-up field. The fresh air perked Chloe up a bit. After all, this really wasn’t that terrible a situation to be in. A nudge from Madeleine brought Chloe back to the present.
“Chloe, I don’t want to force you to do something painful, but if you don’t tell me what happened to make you swear off soccer I can’t really judge if I’m being inhumane here.”
“I know. I’ve been cryptic. It really is embarrassing that I haven’t moved on from high school.” She paused, thinking about how she wanted to describe what happened, then continued. “At my high school we always did these gigantic school-wide pep assembly-type things for all of the teams before they started their respective regionals.” Madeleine nodded, openly curious.
“Well, my freshman year the girls soccer team was fantastic and the pre-season pick to win it all. The junior phenom was being recruited to all the top schools.” Hesitating, Chloe added, “I assume you can relate.” She bumped Madeleine’s arm. “She was my first serious crush. I’m not ashamed to admit it.”
“Chasing older women huh?” Madeleine teased. Chloe’s response was a shrug and a guilty-as-charged grin.
“Well, Becca, that was her name, was in charge of this soccer shootout activity. The principal picked three students to shoot on goal. He liked to pick at least one athlete who played in a different season. Apparently, my number was up.”
Madeleine’s face had shifted, understanding and apprehension written on it. Chloe plowed on. “I was feeling confident. I was an athlete after all. This could be my chance to showcase my smooth moves and impress Becca. There I was walking my scrawny self down the bleachers to the box. Mr. Deloria was rambling over the loudspeaker about the talented freshman basketball player who was going to try out soccer or some nonsense. I nodded at Becca. I didn’t even say hi.” Scoffing at the memory, Chloe shook her head. “Then I got ready to launch the ball.”
Stepping onto the grass, they walked over to the goal together. It was fitting, Chloe thought, that they would return to the scene of the crime for the retelling.
“I was ready to do the damn thing, so I started my approach. As I brought my leg back as far as I could to get the power I wanted, my gangly arms were flailing around and somehow my fingers got caught in my shoelace.”
“No!” The gasp that escaped Madeleine’s covered mouth was cute, though Chloe couldn’t linger on that.
“Yup. I couldn’t stop myself in time to recover. I went through with the kick, effectively launching myself in the air and landing in a pathetic heap of mortally embarrassed high schooler. The laughter from the stands was thunderous, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat. I remember laying there, wanting to disappear, dreading having to look at Becca.”
Madeleine had been struggling mightily to contain her own laughter. Her eyes said they felt for her, but her face showed the struggle of holding back the laugh.
“You can laugh. It’s ridiculous, I know.” Chloe had to admit it was a bit pathetic to keep avoiding soccer over something that happened so long ago. “It’s not like I didn’t recover, but I won’t lie: it stuck with me. I swore I’d never try soccer again in public and I’ve managed to avoid needing to until now.”
Chloe could almost see the comment forming, then traveling to Madeleine’s lips along with a mischievous grin.
“The good news is you’re no longer fourteen and I’m sure you’ve recovered your ability to charm beautiful women. So on the whole, I’d say no harm no foul.”
The corner of Madeleine’s mouth twitched, then slowly turned up in enjoyment. Chloe watched as her countenance shifted, another emotion creeping in with the teasing. Sparks flared as her body reacted.
Madeleine was casually leaning her frame against the goalpost, a ball neatly at her feet, hands in her pockets. She acted as if she hadn’t a care in the world, though the whole of her attention was focused on Chloe. Chills broke out along her spine.
“I don’t know if I should be flattered by your belief in my charm or hurt that you implied I’m a player.” Chloe felt a sudden need to defend her reputation. Even if Madeleine was straight, Chloe didn’t want her oper
ating under that delusion.
“I suppose you should only be offended if it’s true.” Madeleine shrugged, her demeanor casual, though her calm focus had not wavered.
“Well, my short list of past relationships and the absence of any trail of broken hearts suggest my charms could use a little work. I’ll console myself with the thought that you at least thought I was smooth for a minute or two.”
They laughed together, the charge that had arisen now abating. Madeleine started walking on the field, tapping the ball along. As she walked, she called back toward Chloe, “For the record, I never said you weren’t smooth or that you were a player.” Her voice was soft and even. “And now that I know what happened, I feel much better about guilting you into playing.”
As she turned to face Chloe from the top of the box, Madeleine’s posture was confident, her features clear. Chloe knew the jig was up. She wasn’t going to hold out on Madeleine or the girls. Maybe she would have a little fun out there if Madeleine could train her up enough to avoid complete embarrassment. Prepared to admit defeat, she called out to Madeleine, “We can still do this whole shootout, but I’ll play no matter what. I think it’s a great idea for the girls.” She paused for a moment.
“I do have one small request. Could you find it in your heart to give me some tips so I don’t have to relive my epic embarrassment?”
Madeleine beamed, her excitement that the scrimmage was a go written all over her face. Chloe couldn’t believe she had doubted that she would play. In truth she had realized she wasn’t going to turn the team down as soon as she walked into school this morning and saw Molly and Leah in the halls. There was no way she was going to disappoint Madeleine either.
Committed now to the task, Chloe stretched and began her training. She was nervous at first, but very quickly found the challenge of stopping shots exciting enough to clear out the nerves. She was actually enjoying herself as she learned about keeper’s lines and punching a ball out of traffic versus catching it.
She was doing a pretty bang up job picking things up, if she did say so herself. Madeleine was moving all around the box to send shots Chloe’s way, giving her pointers on reading a player’s body. For a minute during that explanation Chloe spent a bit too long perusing Madeleine’s lithe form. When Madeleine asked her a question, she had been forced to ask her to repeat it.
When it came time to learn a little bit about striking the ball, Madeleine began sharing some of her favorite coaching stories, the stories of girls from Wiscasset and all the camps she had worked around the country filling her voice with happiness. She was a natural teacher, which of course was a large part of what made her the excellent coach she was. Under her tutelage, Chloe was becoming more confident in her striking. More often than not, she could get the ball to go at least in the vicinity of where she aimed it.
Being around Madeleine like this, getting to see more and more of who she was, was nice. The more Chloe learned, the more she wanted to learn. As they peppered the net with goals, their chatter moved toward their high school experiences, college friends, shared music tastes. The boys’ team on the adjacent field was nearly done with their practice, but to Chloe it had felt like only twenty minutes had passed.
Feeling much more confident in her ability to retain her dignity during the scrimmage, Chloe stepped up for a long shot. Squaring her body, she aimed for the top right corner of the net, surprising herself when she struck it well and nailed the shot from outside the box. Pumping her fist once in celebration, she turned to see a thrilled Madeleine clapping for her.
“Holy shit, Madeleine. I never would have believed I could do that. You made that happen!”
“You did! You’re a natural athlete. Your biggest issue was being inside your own head. When I was in high school that was my problem. I kept piling all this pressure on myself.” Continuing, Madeleine casually, as if it required no concentration on her part, flicked the ball in a rainbow arch over her back, caught it in the crook of her foot, and went on.
“It was my travel coach who broke through to me and told me I was only as good as I was free. If I could let go of the thoughts and just play, then I could do anything. He taught me to play because I love it, not because someone else told me I had good footwork and potential.”
Finishing her thought with a flourish, she flicked the ball off her foot and proceeded to drill a blazing shot into the net. The way her body moved had Chloe entranced. Raw power directed by finesse and elegance. It was a thing of beauty in every sense of the word. Watching her move freely, as if nothing could make her happier than this moment, buoyed Chloe’s spirits. Madeleine was unlike anyone else she had met.
“Damn.” Chloe didn’t realize she had said anything out loud until Madeleine turned to her.
“What was that?” Their eyes connected, and Chloe felt fireflies dance into life in her stomach. Chloe watched as Madeleine’s fingers went to the knotted hairband on her wrist and began to play with it.
“He hit the nail on the head,” Chloe replied. “At the end of the day that’s really why we play, passion and freedom. It’s a beautiful thing we have to share, these games we love.”
The moment between them stretched on for some seconds, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Chloe wanted to know more about Madeleine’s experiences after college, how she had made the national team, and what had kept her from playing professionally. Now didn’t seem like the right time to ask, however.
“How about we have you take a few more shots in goal now that we’ve overcome your fear of striking the ball? That was the deal, wasn’t it?” The corners of Madeleine’s lips curved upward and Chloe’s heart rate picked up.
“Okay, but don’t coddle me. Kick it at least as hard as Molly will. We both know she won’t hold back.” Chloe turned and walked back to the net. Silently she willed herself not to dwell on her body’s reaction to Madeleine, to focus instead on channeling the rush of adrenaline it had caused to help her stop at least one shot. Bouncing on the line, Chloe readjusted the Velcro on the goalie gloves Madeleine had brought for her. All she wanted was one stop. She could be proud of that.
“Are you ready?”
“This is about to be a reflection of your coaching, so the real question is, are you ready?” Chloe teased.
“Let’s do this, Amden.” Her brows furrowing in concentration, Madeleine bit her lower lip. Chloe’s focus wavered, torn between watching Madeleine’s lips and the need to prepare as she walked to the ball. Her heart was at that familiar frenetic pace she knew so well from before games in college. She could fully appreciate now why keepers bounced on the line before penalty kicks. It was the only outlet they had for dealing with the mounting energy. Madeleine was at the top of the box, as opposed to the actual shootout distance, out of respect for their mismatched skill levels.
The wind picked up slightly, adding a slight chill to the air and carrying to her the sounds of chatter at the boys’ practice and the irregular rumble of a riding lawn mower being used to groom the football field. Madeleine stopped beyond the ball, her body poised to deliver the kick. She raised her hand as if she was taking a corner to signal to Chloe she was about to shoot. Chloe nodded, gaze locking with Madeleine’s until she broke the contact and began the motion of her shot.
Chloe tried to read her body, guessing that the shot was going to the upper left corner of the goal. Madeleine struck the ball, her entire body leaning into the shot, and Chloe barely had time to recover, throwing her body to the ground, desperate to block the shot as it squeaked in the lower right corner of the net. As she hit the ground, the ball grazed her outstretched fingertips. The sound of the net rustling signaled the goal.
Chloe jumped to her feet, more determined now than she ever would have imagined. Crouching in the back of the net she grabbed the ball, turned, and kicked it back out to Madeleine’s waiting feet. Going back to her line, she refocused. Without saying a word, Madeleine raised her hand again, addressing the ball. In another smooth motion she connec
ted. Even though Chloe leapt to her full extension, Madeleine had targeted a laser in the far left corner over her outstretched hands.
Landing hard, Chloe recovered quickly, not wanting to stay down long. Pushing herself up with her hands, now with another set of grass stains, she began the process again.
“You’re reading me really well, Chloe. That’s huge.”
“Thanks, Madeleine, but I thought the whole point was to stop the ball from going in the net.”
“Chloe, you’ve been playing soccer for about an hour. You’re one of the best athletes I know, but seriously, like I said, I’ve been playing since I was four.” Madeleine didn’t act at all surprised at Chloe’s frustration. In fact, her crooked smile suggested instead that she was enjoying herself.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a little ridiculous to think I could shut out a national champion.” Madeleine blushed. Chloe felt her face nearly split from her grin.
“The crazy thing is you’re anticipating shots better than half of the keepers I played against. You’re a natural at this.”
“Thanks, but I haven’t forgotten that I’ve yet to get a save. One more, for my pride. I want to say I went down fighting.”
Chloe sent the ball back to her and got ready for the final shot. It was becoming more difficult to wipe the silly look off her face at the memory of Madeleine’s adorable blush. The response to her compliment had awakened some of the dormant fireflies in Chloe’s system. They became more and more active the longer Chloe spent around Madeleine.
One more time Madeleine raised her arm, taking aim. Chloe felt her muscles clench in anticipation as Madeleine lowered her hand and bounded forward. As she poised to strike, a loud bang drew Chloe’s head sharply to the left. Her heart leapt out of her chest. Was that a gunshot? Before she could process the sound more closely, another powerful pop pulled her attention in front of her again. Back to the blistering kick that Madeleine had unleashed. And the look of horror on her face as the ball headed straight at Chloe’s head.
Breaking Even Page 10