Chapter 6

After final period I left Mackenzie with the girls she had seemed to click with from Freya’s group of friends. She didn’t really seem in the mood to spend more time with me than necessary anyway. In fact, ever since lunch period she’s been less than interested in interacting with me. She didn’t try to make any form of conversation, or ask about soccer. To be honest she kind of just stared forwards, her eyes the colour of a heavy storm cloud.

I needed to head to the sports centre to see when Coach had posted football trials and I couldn’t be bothered having to deal with her bitchy attitude so I didn’t come back to her class after school ended. She might be drop dead gorgeous, and she might be the most attractive girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, but if she’s that easily influenced by what people say she really isn’t worth my time and effort.

As captain it’s my duty to make the team aware and to remind people in their gym classes to look at the board and sign up. Everyone in JV has to retrial to see if they push into the varsity squad and are held to the exact same standard as a newbie trying out. Varsity players don’t have to retrial due to the team training through summer, but it is encouraged for them to show up.

They will be treated just like Mackenzie will be by my coach if she even bothers to show up.

I checked the board and saw that trials are going to be Wednesday and I posted the date in the soccer group chats. I even went as far as to move the sheet from the bulletin board and stuck it up on the entrance of the gym, where there was the greatest chance of it being seen on the Tuesday.

My plan seems to have worked, because I’m stood on the field beside my coach, staring back at over forty girls aged between fourteen and eighteen. My dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, my signature white headband holding my baby hairs out of my eyes. I wouldn’t usually wear shin pads to training, but today I need to set an example to everyone here so I’ve decided to wear them along with a brand new pair of Nike mercurial cleats with ankle guards I treated myself to for the new season.

“Welcome to try outs ladies!” My coach, a strong, takes no shīt kind of woman called Coach Sanders is stood beside me, her hands clasped behind her back as she looks onwards at the crowd of potentials and current members of the squad. “You have two hours to prove to me you belong in one of the two soccer teams. There will be no call backs, there will be no second chances, you have one chance to show to me you’re good enough!”

My eyes scan the crowds, gratefeul to see some familiar faces. Whilst it’s not necessary for the varsity squad to come to trials, it shows Coach you’re serious about playing, and it gives us an excuse to pull on our cleats and kick the ball about for two hours. I see April in the crowd, her hair piled into a bun onto her head and her face set in determination. Raven DeNiro’s jet black hair is being kept out of her eyes by a thick headband, black eyepaint underneath her eyes. Freya is stood to the right, her face looking slightly nervous as she leans towards Mackenzie and says something to her.

I grin to myself when I finally let my gaze rest on her, glad that whatever dislike she has for me hasn’t stopped her from trialling for the team. Her pale blonde hair is in french braids that skim her shoulders. She’s wearing a tight white nike dry fit and black training shorts that show off every dip and curve of her athletic body. I see that she’s removed her nose piercing, a small bump on her right nostril the only proof that it was ever there in the first place.

I can’t help but feel jealousy at the sight of her cleats. They’re the brand new Nike phantoms, cleats that cost over two hundred dollars. They were the cleats I almost bought before settling on the ones I’m wearing, and looking at her wearing them makes me both glad I didn’t buy them, and annoyed because they look so great. I return my eyes to her face to see her grey eyes already looking my way, her jaw clenched and her face pinched.

Looks like she’s still pissed off with me.

I tear my gaze away when Coach addresses me directly and asks me to lead the warm up consisting of four laps around the pitch followed by both dynamic and static stretches. I instantly switch on my captain facade. People won’t take me seriously if I appear to slack off, so I know that for the first twenty minutes, I’m to be the person people need to learn to respect.

I set off with the run, April running beside me. Whilst I’m the overall captain, she’s captain of the forwards and my vice captain if I ever come off the pitch. She looks at me and grins before picking up her pace, a breathless laugh falling past my lips before I push myself to match her pace. We don’t go too fast as we don’t want to sprint away from the girls, but we want them to try and keep up with us and show us their stamina. By the time laps are over, coach will have an idea already of who she wants to keep based on how hard they try, how much fitness they have and where they place based on the JV and varsity players.

A thin layer of sweat has built up on my forehead by the time I’ve finished all four laps, the heat from the sun making it slightly harder than usual. I’m not out of breath but my body is uncomfortable with the lack of wind and the temperature. “Alright girls, let’s stretch.”

The stretches are done in silence, the only noise coming from myself when I call out the new muscle we’re stretching. Coach Sanders is busy setting up various drills and talking to her assistant coach, a young teacher here on placement that is called Mr. Walker. Rumour has it he was a hotshot soccer player back in his youth before he snapped his ACL and ended his career in college, and coach Sanders pretty much gave him a placement deal he couldn’t refuse.

Maybe Freya has a chance of hitting a barn door under his guidance after all.

“Right!” Coach blows her whistle and calls us all over. “I wanna see if you can actually pass a ball before we go further. Newbies pair up with someone from the team and grab a ball. First and second touch passing only people!”

There’s a ball on my left with I flick up easily with my foot and catch in my hands. My eyes instantly zero in on my favourite blonde bombshell and I grab the back of her shirt before Freya can sink her claws into her. “You’re with me.” I mutter into her ear as I continue to pull her in the direction of an empty space. I grin triumphantly as I feel her pulse quicken under my fingertips. I didn’t want to let go just yet because there was a high chance she’d turn round and say no.

“No need to stretch my shirt, captain.” Mackenzie snipes back at me, but stays paired with me nonetheless, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she raises an eyebrow challengingly. “Are you going to put the ball down and pass it? Or are we going to be stood here all day?”

I narrow my eyes and drop the ball to the floor before kicking it at her with slightly more force than necessary. She cushions it calmly with her foot before sending it flying back towards me with her second touch, my body automatically back pedalling to control the ball better. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve decided you don’t like me?”

I kick the ball back at her as I wait for her response, her grey eyes murderous. She scoffs and passes the ball back to me, both of us getting further away from each other as we begin to lengthen our passes. “I don’t dislike you.”

“Lies.” I snap as I skillfully control a pass, flicking it up into the air, bringing it under control before giving Mackenzie the ball back. “Ever since lunch on Monday you’ve acted like you can’t stand me.”

We pass back and forth for a little bit longer in a tense silence until coach calls for one touch passing, the distance between us closing enough that I can smell her deodrant. Her forehead is lined with sweat and her cheeks are slightly red from exertion. “Tell me what I’ve done.”

“Why do you care?” She huffs, her eyes never leaving the ball.

“Because I can’t have you disliking me if we’re going to be on the same team this year.” I growl as I put my foot on the ball and stalk towards her. I get right into her personal space, my nose centimetres away from brushing against hers. My chest is rising and falling with the frustration that’s building in my chest, my eyes narrowed as I push my finger against her sternum, which is rising just as quickly as my own. “I don’t know what has been said to you, or what I’ve done that you haven’t liked, but you either tell me so we can fix this right now, or you don’t and you suck it the hell up whenever we’re on this pitch. Do you understand? So you either tell me right now or we never bring it up again. What’s it going to be?”

Mackenzie sits exactly eye level with me, her gaze angry and narrowed. She clenches her jaw before stepping back and taking the ball from me, a stony look on her whole face. I take that as refusal to answer my question so I just nod my head and step back myself. “Glad we cleared that up, blondie, so now pass me the ball and finish off your trial.”

~•~

Try outs were gruelling. It was filled to the brim of various passing, shooting and dribbling drills to test our abilities to the absolute max. We did so much running and physical training that even I felt my muscles screaming at me before practice had even finished. Coach seemed satisfied and sent us all off the the showers, but not before telling us the results of tryouts would be posted at the end of the day Friday. April grinned at this, knowing that her party was set to fall the day after so it could be classed as a celebration for all athletes that made the team.

April’s back to school parties always get out of hand. She’s thrown one every since since sophomore year when she blackmailed her older sister Piper to buy her alcohol after catching her sneaking a boy out of her room and taking a photo of it. Their family is incredibly religious so if her parents found out they would’ve killed her.

Nowadays our friends on the football team have fake ID’s that work pretty well so April doesn’t have to resort to blackmail anymore. She does sometimes tease her sister with the photo every now and then just to remind her that when she was twenty one she was under her sister’s thumb.

I pad out of the showers with my underwear on towel drying my hair, most of the team milling around doing the same. I know that Raven and our varsity goal keeper Gemma both went off for ice baths after they complained of muscle strains so they won’t be back for another twenty minutes. I know April had to rush home before her parents left for the Christian retreat that has made her party possible so she opted out of showering, and most of the freshmen and sophomores just got picked up by their parents so it’s only really the girls on the teams that are still here.

I know that Mackenzie is still here because she got in the shower after me and her bag is still sat on the bench a few down from mine. I try not to think about the fact she was showering a few stalls down from me because I have a boyfriend and she’s really pissed off with me, and I have a boyfriend.

Did I mention I have a boyfriend?

I grab my sweatpants and my Arsenal shirt from my bag and slip them on, not bothering with looking nice considering I’m planning on going home and lounging on my couch. I bundle my hair into a knot on top of my head, the tips of my long brown locks dampening the back of my shirt and making my skin itch slightly.

By the time I’ve packed all of my smelly, sweaty sports kit into a plastic bag and shoved it into my sports bag, Mackenzie has finished her shower and is breezing past me without a second glance. I try and catch a glance of her out of the corner of my eye, not wanting anyone to catch onto the fact I’m checking her out. She’s wearing a plain black bra and underwear, her toned stomach and muscular frame on proud display. Her usually straight hair has curled at the tips, making her hair shorter than her shoulders and she smelt like coconut and vanilla when she walked past. I look away quickly and concentrate on pulling up my socks when I see her start to look up, not wanting to get caught staring. I slip my feet into my sliders and wave goodbye to several of the girls on the team, promising myself I won’t look at Mackenzie again.

I push open the door to the changing rooms and feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and smile slightly at the text.

CLAY:- Come to mine? My abuela is here so I’m making paella xx

I know how much Clay hates cooking, even though he’s really good at it. He finds it too time consuming and he gets restless when he has to wait around. But he knows how much I love to eat food he’s made, especially when he follows his abuela’s recipes. If she’s helping him I can hardly say no.

I text back that I’m on my way to his as I slip into my car, throwing my bag in the back seat.  As our town isn’t that large, everything and everyone seems really close to one another. Both Clay and I live about fifteen minutes away from school, just in opposite directions, so it isn’t long before I arrive at his. I pull into his driveway and park behind his old truck, walking up the steps and knocking three times on his door, which his abuela answers.

“Alex, mi corazoncita! Come on, come in.” She says to me, wrapping her frail arms around my shoulders and giving me a tight squeeze. Clay’s grandma is one of my favourite people on the entire planet. Her sense of humour is amazing, she knows how to cook, and she’s more than happy to put Clay in his place. She’s also eighty four and doesn’t look a day over sixty, with her stylish hair dyed a similar colour to that of Clay’s.

“Hola, abuela.” I grin, hugging her back until she releases me. I didn’t know much spanish until Clay started teaching me when I was eleven and old enough to remember. Whilst I’m nowhere near fluent, I know enough to be able to laugh when his mother or grandma start shouting at him in spanish for doing something stupid. “How have you been?”

“Better for seeing you, mi nieto is ruining my paella recipe and I’m not happy.” Clay’s grandma grumbles as we wander into the kitchen where I can tell Clay is. I can hear his music and his deep voice mumbling along the words as he no doubt concentrates on his cooking. He’s stood behind the counter with his muscular back to me, his dark hair hidden beneath a baseball cap.

The kitchen smells heavenly, the aromas of chicken and chorizo wafting around the room and invading my nostrils. I walk over to my boyfriend and wrap my arms around his waist, peering around his broad frame to see how his meal is coming along. “Something smells nice.”

“I’m wearing sauvage.” Clay says smugly, spinning in my grip and leaning to kiss me softly on the lips. They’re warm and slightly chapped and he tastes like paella. They’re familiar. The kiss is brief as I’m aware that his abuela is here. I pull away from him and spin in his grip, resting my head against his chest. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.” Clay’s abuela pipes up and we both look at her. “At least now you can distract him whilst I try to fix the mess he’s made of my paella.”

“Abuela, por favor.” Clay groans, leaning his chin on my shoulder. “My paella is fine, you’re just being proud.”

“I’ll take him away.” I grin at his grandma’s triumphantly smug face as I drag him from the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. I push open the door to his bedroom and burst out laughing at the annoyed look on his face, his free hand removing his cap and launching it somewhere in his room. “Oh lighten up, Clay.”

“I hate it when you take her side.” He argues, sitting down on his bed and looking at me with annoyance. “I don’t need my girlfriend helping my grandma gang up on me.”

“Clay,” I pause, my stomach sinking at the realisation that we’re going to start another argument. “Come on it was a joke…”

“That I didn’t find funny!” He snaps, slapping his hands on his knees as he rises to his feet in anger, his dark hair falling in front of his irate blue eyes. “All I wanted was to make you dinner, all I wanted was us to feel, to feel…”

I feel a lump in my throat as I watch my boyfriend struggle to find his words. “You wanted us to feel normal again.”

“Yes.” He stresses the word, his face looking warier than I’ve ever seen it. “Why haven’t we been capable of being normal for so long?”

I drop into the space beside him silently, running a hand through my hair as I let my eyes wander around his room. This place used to be full of happy memories for both of us, for our friends. He has photos pinned on his walls of all of us as we’ve grown up. There’s pictures of us at the movies, at festivals, pictures of Clay and Derek doing synchronised backflips off the quarry. I spot a photo where I’m sat on Derek’s shoulders, Clay”s arm thrown casually over Faye as they look at each other and laugh, April’s face barely in the photo as she attempts to take a selfie. I remember when that was taken. We’d all gone to coachella and we were waiting for Major Lazer to come on stage. I’d gotten on Derek’s shoudlers so I could see better, and April had suggested we took a picture.

There are so many photos of us.

Pictures capturing memories of when we were happy. Smiling at bonfires, kissing at Christmas, dancing at homecoming. We looked so happy, and now I know what he means by normal. I turn to look at Clay, and he’s looking at me with such a sadness. His blue eyes are pale and watery, like he’s desperate for us to fix this, to fix us. I cup his jaw in my hand and stroke his cheeks with my thumbs. “I don’t know.” I mumble as I lean and kiss him gently on his cheek. “But I want to try and get past this, don’t you?”

He nods in my hands and leans to kiss me softly, carefully. Like he’s afraid we’ll shatter into so many pieces we won’t be able to fix us.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re even worth fixing.