Campus Player by Jennifer Sucevic
Demi
Ten seconds remain on the clock. Time slows, and I feel the tick of every millisecond as I dribble the ball between my feet and race toward the goal at the opposite end of the field. The fans in the stands, the coaches on the sidelines, and the other players fade to the background. My breath comes hard and fast before echoing in my ears. There’s a UNC girl flanking my side, looking for an opportunity to steal the ball.
The game is tied, and it’s down to the wire. A kind of tunnel vision occurs, and my focus narrows on the opponent’s net. The goalie watches me with slitted eyes. She crouches, shifting her weight from side to side, waiting for me to make a move. Her gaze stays focused on my hips.
It’s just like Shakira claimed in her song—hips don’t lie. Although, in this instance, it’s the hips that will tip her off as to which direction I’ll move in, where in the net I’ll try to place the ball.
She knows it, and so do I.
The player at my side pushes into me as she tries to take the ball. With a grunt, I elbow her away to get a little more room.
It’s not going to be that easy, girlfriend. You’re good, but so am I.
As I close in on the goal, she makes another attempt, and I decide that it’s now or never. I’m running out of time. If the buzzer rings before I get a kick off, the game will end in a tie, and that’s no good. In a nanosecond, I assess the situation and try to place the ball where it has the best chance of going into the net. Time slows as I pull my foot back and send the ball flying. The girl keeping pace with me attempts to stop it with her head but she’s a tick off, and it hurtles forward. The goalie springs into motion. With her arms outstretched, she sails gracefully through the air.
My hands go to my head as I wait and watch. The goalie’s fingers graze the ball, but it’s not enough to stop the force of it from hitting the net. Time, once again, speeds up and the cheers from my teammates and the fans fill my ears, overloading my senses.
Yes!
We did it! We pulled off a win.
I glance at the stands. Dad is on his feet, clapping and whistling. There’s a humongous grin stretched across his face. Rowan is next to him, also cheering. As our gazes lock and hold, something warm spreads unwantedly through my chest. I tell myself it has nothing to do with Rowan or the obvious pride on his face. But even I know it’s a lie. Without fail, the football player has attended every home game since freshman year. And, depending on where our away games are, he shows up for them as well. I’m sure he’s there because it’s another opportunity for him and Dad to discuss strategy on the football field. I don’t want to believe it has anything to do with me. If I did, I’d have no other choice but to acknowledge there’s something between us, and I’m nowhere near ready to do that.
Eye contact is cut off as I’m swallowed up by my teammates, both the ones from the field and the ones from the bench. Twenty-five girls swarm me, patting me on the back as they jump up and down with excitement. There’s a jubilant feeling that permeates the air as we go through the line and shake hands with our opponents. A chorus of good game is repeated as we move down the field. Then we gather around Coach Adams for a brief talk before being released to the locker room to shower and change.
With a whoop of excitement, Sydney jumps on my back and wraps her arms around my neck. “That last play was so awesome! You are so the freaking woman!”
Giddiness bubbles up inside me. The adrenaline rush from a hard-fought win is like nothing else. Not even sex can top it.
“Did you notice that the campus hunk was in the stands?”
It would be impossible not to notice. There is an energy surrounding him that sets the fine hair on my arms on edge. Without searching him out, I would know he was there. That being said, there’s no way in hell I’ll admit that to Sydney.
“I’m sorry, who are you talking about?”
“Please girl,” she snickers, not fooled in the slightest by my nonchalant attitude. “Nice try.”
I snort as the edges of my lips curl upward.
She cranes her head. “I guess Justin put the final nail in his coffin by not showing, huh?”
“The nail was already there. It’s better this way. I don’t want to feel bad about breaking things off.” I scour the stands one last time to make sure he didn’t show up late and notice that Ethan is sitting with a couple of other baseball guys.
So much for study hours. It only reinforces my decision to cut him loose and move on.
“You didn’t tell me that you worked everything out with Ethan.”
“That’s because I didn’t.” All of her previous excitement drains away.
“And yet he still showed up.” See? Now that’s a guy who is interested. One who takes the time out of his own busy schedule to support his girl.
Sydney shrugs before glancing over her shoulder. “Yeah.” Her voice softens. “He did.”
“That deserves a few brownie points in my book.” I wince and slam my mouth shut. What the hell am I doing? I shouldn’t be encouraging those two. They need to go their separate ways.
“Maybe.”
As I cart Sydney to the locker room, someone knocks into me from behind, and I stagger a couple of steps before righting myself. With my roommate clinging to my back like a baby rhesus monkey, that could have ended disastrously.
I stare at the leggy auburn-haired girl as she strides past us. Her lips curl with scorn.
Annica.
The junior soccer player has turned out to be a real pain in the ass. I’m unsure what happened for her to direct so much hate my way. When Annica came in as a freshman, I took her under my wing and mentored her. We got to know each other pretty well and spent a lot of time together. We’re both forwards, and for a while, we worked really well together. We were an unstoppable duo.
Until we weren’t.
I blinked, and suddenly everything was a competition both on and off the field. It’s gotten to the point of uncomfortableness. I’ve tried ignoring her, hoping she would grow up and realize we’re on the same team, but my silence has had the opposite effect and emboldened her.
“Oops, sorry.” The smirk tells me that she’s not the least bit remorseful and her bumping into me wasn’t an accident.
“Watch where you’re going,” Sydney snaps.
As captain, I try to lead by example. That tactic hasn’t worked with Annica. She’s mistaken my silence for weakness. I’m not delusional enough to think that all twenty-six girls on this team will mesh, but we need to work together for the greater good. I’ve attempted to put the best interest of this team above my own personal feelings for any one individual.
A couple of younger players flank Annica. I’ve noticed that she’s become the piped piper for the freshman and sophomore girls. It’s like she’s carefully gathering forces for a coup. Any day, they’ll come for me, and I’ll be beheaded.
“Didn’t I tell you from day one that girl would be a problem?” Sydney mutters.
It’s warily that I watch both her and her minions strut their stuff to the locker room. Even though it pains me to do so, I have to begrudgingly give Sydney credit where it’s due. She was spot on in her assessment. My bestie took an instant dislike to Annica and kept trying to tell me that the younger girl was playing me like a fiddle. I thought Sydney was paranoid (maybe a little jealous) and refused to listen.
“Yup, you did.”
“One of these days, you’re going to have to knock her down to size.”
A sigh escapes from my lips with the realization that she’s not wrong. As much as I’m dreading a confrontation with the other girl, it’s been brewing for a while. And I can’t let it go much longer. Teams that are fractured from within don’t bring home championships.
And this is my senior year. Maybe the last one I have to play soccer. So, coming in second or losing in the playoffs isn’t an option.
We either get our shit together or we don’t bother at all.
End of story.