by Ali Parker
“Good. I might stay then. I’m just interested in winning this bitch. I don’t care who’s scoring and who’s assisting.” He tossed the ball toward me. “You ready to own this shit?”
“Yep.” I bumped it against my knees as we walked toward the center of the field and met with the officials. After walking through the rules and the necessary handshakes, we got into position and waited for the whistle.
“You take lead.” Clint glanced over at me. “I’ll back you up every time.”
Concern rolled through me. The MVP thing was getting on my fucking nerves and I’d be putting my foot down as soon as the tournament was over, both with Coach and the players about it. It wasn’t a healthy competition and we were all there to get strong and be pushed into being the best possible players we could be for our own schools. It was time to put an end to tradition and get everyone back on track.
Some part of me just hoped I’d win MVP so I didn’t seem like the loser who wanted to change the rules to protect anyone from getting near Em. That wasn’t at all the case. No one would be getting near here anyway. No fucking way.
“Shit,” I growled loudly and walked around in a tight circle as Coach tore everyone a new asshole around me. We were playing like a bunch of seven-year-old boys on a sugar high.
“You’re not communicating and your passes are sloppy as fuck. Get it together or you guys will be going home before we even start this thing. You’re easily the best team on the roster. Start fucking acting like it.” Spit flew from the coach’s mouth as he eyed all of us, me included.
“Huddle up.” I clapped my hands and nodded toward Clint as he gave me a fix this shit look. “We got this. Look at me.”
They circled up, most of them looking like hell on legs. The idiots should have waited until Sunday night to get fucked up on liquor and have an all-night party, but no, they’d done it last night.
Emily and I should have been there. I’m the team captain.
I swallowed my guilt and pumped them full of feel-good phrases to get everyone ready to go out and conquer our opponent.
“We got this. Right?” I screamed and everyone returned the cheer before moving back and bouncing on the balls of their feet. “We’re FC Boston. We’ve won this shit for years now. We’re not going home without a victory. Communicate. Call out your moves and watch your teammates. Anticipate where we’re going and what we’re doing. You know how I move.” I pointed to Clint. “You know where Clint’s headed. Anticipate and meet us there with the ball. And if nothing else—”
“Communicate,” Clint barked and turned to face me. “You take lead.”
“No. You’re taking it. I’m playing defense for this quarter.”
“What?” Clint went pale.
“Yes. You got this. Scoring isn’t our fucking problem. Defending is.” I glanced over at James. “Guard the goalie box with your fucking life. You dick this up this quarter and I’m going to tie you to the back of my truck and drag you through town tonight in your momma’s panties. You got me?”
He smiled and nodded. “Abso-fucking-lutely. Let’s do this.”
***
Emily
“Hmm. Wonder what Jacob said to them.” Jessica, a dark-haired hooker that seemed to watch Jacob’s every move, sat beside her busty blonde friend in front of me. Neither of them were too welcoming, seeing that I was dating the hottest guy on the team. I couldn’t help but think they were working together on ways to off me and get in Jacob’s pants. Not that I blamed them much.
“Probably that they need to get their asses in gear or he’s going to take his back home.” The girl beside her snorted before glancing back toward me. “How long did you say you guys had been dating?”
“Since the beginning of the summer,” I muttered and kept my eyes on the field. Jacob had moved to the back of the field, which was a new position that I’d yet to see him in. His expression was angry, and he kept barking out orders at everyone far above the roar of the coach or the referees.
“So you guys are still in the courting phase,” one of the girls commented.
“Um, yeah, I guess.” I glanced down at them, feeling so incredibly insecure all of a sudden. The mantra that Jacob loved me and was there with me kept rolling through my mind, but it was doing little to support my quickly declining mood.
I felt like a junior high girl, underdeveloped and childish compared to these women. Funnily enough, no matter how much envy I built up, I would never in a million years wear something that left little to the imagination. My body belonged to my man and no one else. Not even for a subtle peek.
“Did you guys grow up together? I mean, were you like, the girl next door?”
I pulled out my phone and lifted it up. “No. I gotta get this. Make sure you cheer loudly. We’re headed toward a loss if the guys don’t pull some magic out of their hats soon.”
Someone chuckled and the girls turned to talk amongst themselves. I walked toward the truck and dialed Tasha’s number.
“What’s up?” Tasha’s tone was upbeat, and I wanted to sigh in relief but held the breath behind my clamped jaw.
“Nothing. I wish you were here. This is fucking miserable.” I stopped by Jacob’s truck and turned, pressing my back against it and wrapping my arm around myself as I watched him.
“The tournament? You and Jacob fighting?”
“What? No. We’re doing great. I just hate these bitches in the stands. I swear they’re all in their mid-twenties and look like models.”
“Those Neanderthals on the soccer team probably hired those girls to join them for the weekend. Stop being so sensitive and go support your man. You’re not there to make friends.”
I smiled. Tasha was forever practical if nothing else. I could count on her to put things in perspective and help me to see the forest past the trees every time.
“You’re right. I just hate how they look at me.”
“They’re jealous, Em. You’re beautiful and you’re dating Jacob. I’d be jealous too if I didn’t know and love you as much as I do.”
“Aww, you love me.” I let out the sigh I was holding back. “You sure you can’t come up here and sit with me for the rest of the day? We still have another game later this afternoon.”
“I wish I could, but I’m spending the day at the pregnancy care center. I’m headed that way now.”
“All right. Maybe tomorrow night we can all get together for pizza at DeAngelos. Hopefully, Jacob and I will have some good news about the tournament.”
“Sounds like a plan. How’s he doing so far? Any fear that he might not get the MVP spot and you might end up in some other hunky caveman’s bed after the tournament ends?” She was teasing me. Somehow, she found the team’s tradition of giving up their women to the MVP from the tournament almost comical. I found it disruptive and disturbing.
“He’s not going to let that happen. Whether he wins the award or not.” I shrugged. “And if for some crazy-ass reason he was willing to give me up, I’m not a blow-up doll. I’m not sleeping with anyone but him.”
“And not even him if he hands you over to someone else.”
“No one is handing me over.” Anger burned up the center of my chest at the thought. Did the women who supported the team actually go along with that bullshit? No way. I turned my attention back to the stands as the girls did the wave, each of them looking like the type of woman who brought in a crowd at the local strip club on Friday nights.
“I’m sure they’re not. Just try and have fun and be yourself. You’re not there to make friends. You’re there for Jacob.” She cleared her throat. “Call me later?”
“Yeah, sure.” I dropped the call and walked back toward the field as Jacob got in the referee’s face and started to yell. Both of them seemed to be ready to rip the other apart, and soon, the coach and several players from both sides of the field were involved. “Oh shit.”
I waited on the sidelines, obviously not willing to get involved, but I wanted to make sure Jacob was okay
.
“Take a break, Wright,” the coach barked at Jacob. “Cool down and get your shit together before you come back out.”
Jacob walked toward me and moved toward the parking lot without a word. I turned and followed him, holding my tongue until he stopped by the truck and turned around. The anger on his face was stifling. I’d never seen him get pissed, but it was more than obvious that he was a fuse ready to blow.
“This fucking team.” He turned and started to pace the ground. “Everyone wants to win the goddamn championship, but no one wants to put in the effort.”
I didn’t say a word. I wasn’t sure what the hell I would have said anyway. Nothing I had to offer would help where he was right then.
“They can’t work together effectively in practice all fucking summer and now they expect by some miracle that they’re going to pull it together and win this damn tournament? That’s not how it works.”
“What can you do to turn things around?” My voice was nothing more than a soft whisper.
He paused and put his hands on his hips.
I waited to get blasted. How many times had my mom gotten drunk and had this same angry look spread across her face? I wasn’t sure what was coming, and I probably shouldn’t have offered him the suggestion to fix the problem. If he were capable of fixing it, he would have done so already, right?
He let out a long sigh as his shoulders relaxed and he ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re right. What can I do to turn things around? I’m the captain of this team, and if it’s falling apart, then part of that is my fault.”
I stood in stunned silence. The last thing I expected was for him to take my advice and actually do something with it. “Maybe encourage them?”
“Yeah.” He moved toward me and ran his hands over my shoulders as sweat dripped down his handsome face. “I just wanna win for me, for you, for them. I keep pushing as hard as I can and moving into a different position, but it’s just not enough. These other teams must have been playing together for years. They actually play like a fucking team. We play like a bunch of old high-school friends who haven’t seen each other in ten years.”
I reached out and wiped the sweat from his brow before cupping his face. “Stop trying to play everyone’s position and just play yours. Have faith in them to do their part. If you keep taking their responsibilities from them, it’s just going to wilt their confidence. Get out there and play the forward position you’re so good at. Stop helping Clint score and let him help you. You guys did great during your first few games back in June because everyone had a part to play. You running all over the field trying to play everyone’s part for them is hurting morale. It has to be.”
There. I’d said it.
He stared at me for a few minutes as the vein in the side of his neck ticked violently. “Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t let someone take my position from me.”
“Just try to lead by example instead of fixing everything for everyone. Just try it.” I leaned in and kissed him a few times.
“All right, baby. Love you.” He kissed me one more time—hard—before running back toward the field.
I turned and watched the rest of the game from the parking lot, enjoying the silence. They won by the skin of their teeth, and the only reason they turned around the game was because Jacob took his spot back up front and put faith back in his team to do their part. They rose to the occasion, all of them, including Jacob.
***
Jacob
“Crazy. Crazy. Crazy.” Clint dropped down in the chair next to me at the local burger joint where everyone had gathered for dinner after our last game. “I thought we were going to be headed home tonight. You pulled out some crazy shit and saved the day, man.”
“Nah, I just moved outta the way and gave everyone room to breathe.” I shrugged and searched the room to find Emily in the corner by the jukebox. Some of the girls were gathered around her, and she was smiling, which was a first. She didn’t necessarily belong in the middle of this particular crowd, but she was holding her own.
I owed her a thank you. She knew just what to say to get me back on track during our first game that morning, and she was ballsy enough to say it.
“That takes more courage than stepping on everyone’s cock and continuing to run-rule the game.” Clint snorted and lifted his beer toward me. “To FC Boston. We got a chance at winning tomorrow. Let’s make the most of it.”
Emily walked over and sat down across the table from me. “You guys will win. I have no doubt.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The need to make an excuse and leave the crowd was almost overwhelming. My knee bobbed up and down under the table as I studied her beautiful face. She was quickly becoming my better half and somehow stealing my heart piece by piece. I’d completely belong to her before I could blink twice if I wasn’t careful.
Did I want to be careful? No. Not at all. Not when reckless sounded like so much fun.
“We sure will.” Clint clamped his hand on my shoulder and turned to face me. “If Jacob pulls out some of his crazy-ass skills and doesn’t hold back. The man is quite capable of winning the game all by himself. It’s impressive.”
“No need to steal the show though. It feels better to just play my part and support the team. I’d just forgotten that earlier today.” I smiled at my girl. “Glad I had someone to put me back in my place.”
“So look,” Clint started. “Tomorrow, you just get up there and do whatever you need to do. I’m serious. We’re going against the two best teams tomorrow. I wanna win this fucker so bad. I’ll support you in whatever you wanna do, but you just take the lead and make this shit happen.”
I glanced over at him and nodded. “We’ll figure out a plan in the morning. Right now, I’m gonna dance with my girl.”
“No, you’re not.” Emily glanced around behind her before turning her attention back toward me. “There isn’t a dance floor in here.”
“Sure there is. It’s over by the bar.” I walked around the table and extended my hand toward her. “Don’t get shy on me, Em. Come on.”
She rolled her eyes, let out a cute huff, and got up. “You owe me for this.”
“I do?” I wrapped my arm around her narrow shoulders and moved us back to the small dance floor near the kitchen. I pulled her into my arms and smiled down at her. “Please do tell me how I can pay you back. I’m honestly willing to give you anything you want.”
“What if I just want you?” She smiled up at me and wrapped me in a tight hug.
“You already have me, remember?” I leaned down and brushed my lips by hers.
Daily walked by and patted me on the back. “Don’t get too comfy, bro. You know you might have to give that pretty girl up tomorrow night.”
Emily stiffened in my arms.
I smirked. “Not happening, man. We’ll be changing the tradition come tomorrow night.”
“What? No fucking way. My dad was part of FC Boston and they did this shit.”
“Right, well, last I checked, your daddy ain’t here anymore.” I wagged my eyebrows, pushing the guy a little with my words. If he wanted a fight to shut down the conversation, I was more than happy to give it to him. This shit needed to be nipped in the bud.
“All right, Wright. We’ll see.” He shook his head, gave me what looked like a forced smile, and walked back to the loud, rowdy table of soccer guys who were somehow finally starting to grow on me.
“I’m proud of you.” Emily touched the side of my face and moved against me.
“For not getting a hard-on with you dancing up against me in public? It’s coming. Hold your pride for another time.” I kissed the tip of her nose as she laughed.
“No. For standing up for what’s right.”
“With all the shit going on at the Omega House, I’m quickly learning that it’s better to fix these little things before they turn into something enormous. Kill it while it’s small and you have a chance of not getting kicked in the balls by it. I should have
done that shit with all the stuff going down at the frat house, but I didn’t.”
She brushed her thumb by my lips as her eyes filled with compassion. “So what? You know what to do now. Fix it.”
I nodded, feeling like I could do fucking anything with her in my arms. “Yeah. I will. I promise.”
I bounced on my feet beside the field the next morning and breathed in the fresh air around me. Beautiful green grass stretched out as far as my eyes could see and guys were stretching or running in small groups all around the fields.
Dealing with the team the day before under Emily’s coaching had me looking at the Omega House situation a little differently. I needed help. I wasn’t going to figure out who was fucking with us without getting more people involved. My soccer coach had mentioned bringing in Micah to help root out the asshole that was involved, and he was right. I trusted Micah and knew that with both of us in a corner together, supporting each other, the house would follow our recommendation, no matter what it was.
“You ready for this? Last games of the season.” One of the FC Boston coaches patted my back and glanced over at me.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I rolled my shoulders. “I’m really glad I joined up this summer. It was a little out of my price range and an extra burden to bear, but everything worked out like it should have.”
“You’re a great leader, Wright. Most guys would have taken control of the games yesterday and not given anyone a chance to step up and play their post, but you didn’t. You moved into a leadership role and set the bar high. Providence is lucky to have you, son. I hope you’ll consider joining us next summer again.”