Scorer

"Why are you video taping?" I asked my friend Julio with a smile. He found a busted-up video camera from the trash near our close houses. Luck, I guess. It still worked and had a full battery. The camera was currently fixed on me.
"To show everybody at school," he said. "For you to show off. And, for me to show off my best friend's skills"
"Put it down, I can't concentrate," I said. He shook his head. One of Julio's traits was stubborn.
"Come on, try!" he urged. "Then, we can break into the library, use the computer, and put the video on the uh... the thing, with all the videos?"
"YouTube," I said, referring to the website we learned about a few weeks ago. We saw someone on it in the library, somebody rich. The computers at the library are expensive, or at least to us, it is. We're dirt poor.
"Yes, that," he said. "I will tape now, and we'll break in tonight."
"Well, can you try to tape discreetly?" I asked. "I really cannot concentrate."
"You and your vocabulary," he said, moving back. He stood behind the wire fence and kept the camera on me. I turned around, facing the sun, making me squint. Spain sometimes annoys me with the sun. Always shining, except when it gets dark and the moon comes up. It shines too bright every day, especially in the months of June, July, and August.
I balanced the soccer ball on my right foot and kicked it up, catching it on the back of my neck. Then I lowered my head, making the ball fall, and caught it with my left foot before it reached the dirt ground. Then I kicked the ball in the air and moved back, then, at the right time, jumped in the air and kicked it sideways, landing on my hands, body sideways. The ball spiraled into the goal, making a nice swooshing sound. I turned around and saw Julio's hand in the air, balled up into a fist. Victory. He lowered the camera and pressed a button, then closed the tiny TV thing on it, running to me.
"I wish I could play soccer well," he said, then made a face. "Mama only wants me to find a rich wife, so I can take care of the family, and she can relax for once in her life." I laughed. Julio had three brothers and four sisters. There was Sicily, Sofia, Anabella, Lucia, Lucas, Julian and Luis.
"Everybody has a talent. Yours just isn't sports," I said.
"But the people who play sports get all the money," he argued. I dribbled the ball from foot to foot while he went on. "I have no talent, at least none that will make some decent money."
"Try modeling," I offered. He made a face. "What? They make a lot of money. You just need to look better." he hit me and I laughed.
"Come on, let's go to the field," he said. "I could video tape you there and show my new camera to everybody." We walked in the heat a few blocks down to the field where all the boys played football (or to Americans, soccer), and sometimes rugby.
"Hola!" Julio said to some shop owners as we walked. They waved back, and I had my soccer ball tucked under my arm. It was far too hot, with my Cristiano Ronaldo jersey I got for my birthday and soccer shorts. I had my favorite and only pair of cleats on, and they were dark black. I was going to drown in my sweat anytime soon.
"Leonardo!" Julio called as we entered the field. He looked up from his game of soccer with some other friends and waved us over. I dropped my ball to the floor and started running with it, jogging and dribbling excessively. Leo was an old-time soccer friend of mine. It's funny how we first met, actually.
We were age five, playing in the small league of soccer at the big field near the rich houses. It was practice, both our first day. We were on different teams, and I had the ball. Leonardo tried to get the ball away from me, but I made a sharp turn and he fell on his face. I made the goal and he got up from the ground and pushed me. I pushed him back and we started fighting.
"You tripped me!" he yelled.
"Nuh-uh!" I said back. We had to sit to the side for five minutes due to fighting. "You fell!"
"You suck at soccer!"
"Better than you!"
"My dad played soccer!"
"My whole family played soccer!"
"You stink! Take a shower!"
"You look like a gorilla!"
"You're face looks like my dog,"
"Your jersey is fake!" we fought like this for the entire five minutes. After some calming down, we broke into uncontrollable laughter.
"What's your name?" he asked me.
"Angelo," I said. "What's your name?"
"Leonardo," he replied. From then on, we weren't so close like Julio and I (who I later met when he moved in near to my home), but we were still friends. Always got each other's backs.
"You gonna play a game?" Leonardo asked. I nodded and we chose teams. I was on the opposing team, defense first, Leonardo on offense. Just the way we like(d) like.
"Scared?" he asked, in front of me, blocking me. I had the ball, of course.
"Not a bit," I replied. We were both breathing heavily, since we were playing for fifteen minutes straight, now. I raced past him and passed to one of my teammates. I ran beside him a few yards to his left, and when we were close enough to the goal, he passed back to me and I jumped, head-butting the ball into the goal. My team cheered, and I looked over to Julio, who was sitting on the sidelines. He was video taping again, and gave me a thumbs-up. We played for a while more, and finally called it quits when our teams were tied 3-3 for more than twenty minutes.
"Haven't changed a bit," Leonardo told me when we finished, patting me on the back. "Needs to always be the star."
"I just like making goals. It's my specialty," I replied. "I'm a scorer"
"You're gonna be going places, man," he said, squinting at the sun. "I know it."
"You too, man. I'm not the only good player here,"
"Yeah, sure, after my dad allows me to do what I want. He wants me to become a businessman like him, not some 'silly soccer player.'" he quoted his father. Leonardo's dad is more of an old-fashioned man. He used to play pro soccer, but was butted out when he wasn't as good as they thought, and then started his own business. Soccer has kind of his number one hatred.
"You'll live. When one of us becomes famous, we have to make the other join the NSL,"
"I want to join the NASL," Leonardo said. I made a questionable face as we started walking towards Julio. "I've never been to America. I heard it is a land of dreams, and I have a dream. Soccer is my only ticket out." I've heard of the same thing. I, too, have never been to the States, but it's not like I wanted to go there. It sounds too good, so I know some bad must be in it. Besides, I was born and raised in Spain. Why would I want to leave? I'd much rather stay here, but with more money.
"But wouldn't you rather stay within your flesh and blood?" I asked. "Where you grew up?"
"I want to explore, Angelo. I can't stay in Spain my whole life, much less Europe,"
"But America? Why not... Brasil? At least to another country where they speak Spanish,"
"We speak Portuguese,"
"Yes, I know, but Spanish is similar,"
"Why are we talking about languages?" he asked. "I guess you're right. I'm just dreaming too big."
"It's your life. Do what you want with it,"
"I will," he said, looking at me. We reached a sweating Julio, baking under the sun.
"Finally. Now I know what chickens feel like in the oven," he said to me. I wanted to correct him and say that turkeys are the ones usually in the oven, but I didn't bother. I helped him up. "Let's go." I waved good-bye to Leonardo and we walked away from the field to the library.
The library is pretty far away from the field. It's more into the rich people's territory. By the time we got there, it was dark outside. Great. Now I had to listen to Mamãe drone about safety and whatnot. I never listen to her lectures, anyway.
"We close in ten minutes," the librarian said when we went inside. It was instant coolness. The library had an AC, something you definitely don't see where Julio and I live. It's mostly where Leonardo lives.
Julio and I walked over to the computers. It cost $1.30, in our peso. We didn't have that money on us.
"We could try pick-pocketing," Julio whispered to me.
"Or, we can wait for somebody to leave their computer with time still running on it," I whispered back. We were standing in front of the computers, only a few taken. The rest had no money in it.
We waited for five minutes. Nothing.
We waited for ten minutes. Nothing.
We waited for twelve minutes. Nothing.
"We should just leave and forget about the tape. Nobody's going to watch it," I said.
"No. I have a good feeling about this," Julio said. Him and his stubbornness. Right then, a wealthy girl stood up from her computer, glanced at us, then left.
"Seven minutes," I said as we hurried to the seat. Hopefully the librarian didn't notice us. My heart was beating. I'm a worrier.
"Here," Julio plugged in the wire that I assumed went with the camera and stuck it into the computer.
"You got that in the garbage too?" I asked him as he quickly made an account on YouTube. He shook his head.
"Found it in my house. Who knew, right?" he smiled and started to upload the video. TWO MINUTES LEFT, the amount of time uploading read. Good. Enough time to upload and get the hell out of here.
Julio and I have broken the law many times. Breaking and entering (but not robbing), stealing (but nothing valuable), forgery (the guy was just some store owner, and we wanted some new shoes), we've done all the small scams. We've even faked our own pre-deaths on the street for some money. I knew that one day our crimes would catch up to us, but I hope that day is far in the future.
"Hey!" the librarian said, a few yards behind us. "I didn't see you log into the computer."
"Well, you must've missed us," I said. "We logged into this computer."
"And paid?" she asked. I heard Julio typing something. "Thieves!"
"We stole nothing!" I said. Julio jumped from his seat as the librarian stormed towards us. He was typing in the title of the video. "Let's go, Ju-!" I stopped myself. I would not say his name in front of the librarian. One name is too much info.
"Almost done!" I felt the librarian grab my collar, as well as Julio's. She pulled us out of our chairs, but Julio got out of her grip and clicked a button on the computer. As the librarian went to shut it off, I wriggled out of her grip on me, and together, Julio and I booked the library. We didn't stop running until we could no longer hear the librarian's swearing.
"Did you do it?" I asked when we were in a safe distance away from the library that we would never return to. I was standing up straight, only a tad tired, while Julio was holding onto his knees, gasping for air. Talk about out of shape. He nodded. "Really?" he nodded again. "Julio, put your hands on your head and take deep breaths, please." he did as I told and we started to walk back home.
"I pressed the 'upload' button just in time," he said when he caught his breath. "It's on the net."
"Which parts of the video did you out on it, exactly?" I asked. He shrugged.
"The only video on that camera was the footage I shot of you playing soccer. When I first found it, I went through it, and it had no videos. So it's not like I uploaded someone's wedding or whatever." he explained. I nodded gratefully.
It took us twenty minutes or so to get back home. I said bye to Julio, and I saw him hide it in his pants as he entered his house. If one of his younger siblings got it, it would be a waste of newfound 'treasure.'
"Ricardo Angelo dos Acuna Ruiz!" my mother yelled as soon as I shut the front door behind me. I winced, ready for a smack in the face.
It was delivered approximately four seconds later.
"You didn't tell me where you went-" she started, but I interrupted.
"I play soccer every day, Mamãe,"
"Don't interrupt me!" she raised her voice. "You're out all day with me not having the slightest idea where you are, and you don't return until eleven at night!"
"Sinto muito, Mamãe," I apologized. "I won't do it again."
"Were you doing something illegal?" she asked.
"No! I was playing soccer with Leonardo and the guys," I said, half-lying. "Nothing illegal. I plan on becoming a professional soccer player, not a criminal."
"Room. Bed. Now." she ordered. Guess I missed dinner. I obeyed and wished I was Julio. He could missing three days from his house and his parents wouldn't even notice, with so many kids to keep an eye on.
I walked into my small room I share with my younger brother, Marco Andres. Mamãe likes giving her children two names. My baby sister, who sleeps in the room Mamãe and Pai sleep in, is named Adriana Ailen.
"Hi," I heard his voice said. I made a surprised face, something we both couldn't see in the dark.
"You're still awake?" I whispered. There was a pause, him probably nodding.
"Yes," he spoke, realizing I couldn't see him. I felt around for my bed and got under the covers. The only window we had, which had nothing covering it, showed the full moon. "Are you in trouble?"
"Who knows. I get in trouble every other day," I replied. "Not a big deal. I'm used to it."
"Okay. Good night," he said.
"'Night," I said back. I thought of today, then tomorrow of what my punishment will be. I sat up straight in my bed.
Tomorrow was Sunday.

"Ricardo Angelo, get your tie," Mamãe said to me with a stern tone. I got my stupid tie and tied it around my neck, helping Marco Andres with his. "Ricardo Angelo, tuck in your shirt." I tucked in my shirt. "Ricardo Angelo, tie your shoes." I tied my shoes. All day was, "Ricardo Angelo this, Ricardo Angelo that, go here, go there." I was her slave for a day from yesterday. To make it even worse, we had to go to church today. Mamãe will surely shower my in holy water.
"Ricardo Angelo, come here," Mamãe said when we entered the church. It was hot outside (big surprise), and my pits started to sweat, so Mamãe told me to keep my arms down. She put the sign on Christ on my forehead three times and said a quick prayer, making me put the sign on Christ on my forehead twice. Then, Mamãe, Pai, Marco Andres, Adriana Ailen and I all entered the almost-full church and sat in the middle of the place. "Sit up straight, Ricardo Angelo." I sat up straighter and almost rolled my eyes. Pai put my sister on my lap. I smiled at her drooling on her hand. She had black, silky hair that was both straight and curly, and dark brown eyes, looking like her two older brothers. At least she was able to stay still. When Marco Andres was born, his first three years of life was spent running. He learned to walk at ten months.
Church started a few minutes later. I spotted Julio a few seats ahead of us, with his family that took up an entire row and a half. He never saw me since he couldn't turn around, which would show that he's rude. That's not praised in church.
I sighed not too loudly (I was sitting next to Mamãe) and leaned back a little. Every week, I spent an hour of my life in this place. Today especially, I would be spending about six hours, helping the priest and his little crew clean the already-clean church. Marco Andres sneezed, and everybody in my row, the row in front of us, and the row in back of us said 'God bless you."
"Christ once said..." the priest said. I zoned him out and almost dozed off if it weren't for Marco Andres squeezing my knee every time I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I love my brother.
When church ended, Mamãe left Marco Andres and Adriana Ailen with Pai to take me to the priest.
"Hello," she said with a smile. The first I've seen all day.
"Hello, there!" the priest said happily. "Who do we have here?"
"Ricardo Angelo would like to help you clean the church," Mamãe was definitely the revenge type of person, even if it didn't involve murder.
"Wonderful! Ricardo, why don't you join the others behind the altar?" I nodded and thanked him, then went behind the altar with two other people, both girls.
"Who are you?" one asked. She had blond hair, rare where I live, with brown eyes.
"Ricardo. And you, Miss Sass?" I replied. She made a face.
"You'd like to know,"
"Yes, I would," I said. She rolled her eyes.
"Valentina," she said. "And that's Rayen. Here," she handed me a broom. "Sweep this floor. It's dirty."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, bowing to her. The rest of the day I swept, mopped, dusted and cleaned. I now knew how Mamãe felt every day.
"So you play soccer?" Valentina asked me after we had finished cleaning. My community service for Mamãe would be done soon.
"Yeah. I'm a scorer," I said. "What do you play?"
"Nothing," she replied. I looked at her. We were sitting in one of the aisles in the church, having a little conversation. I don't know where Rayen went.
"Nothing? How can you not live without soccer, or sports? It's the way of life,"
"To you,"
"So what do you do?"
"Paint. I like art," she said.
"Psh," I said. "Art. They make nothing in life."
"Art is beauty. Soccer is entertainment."
"And which is better?"
"Beauty. You can enjoy it anywhere you go. But entertainment? You can't get that from nature,"
"Are you a vegetarian?"
"What? No,"
"You seem like one," I said. I could here heels clicking on the floor, and turned around to find Mamãe walking towards me.
"Hello," she smiled to Valentina. "Are you a friend of Ricardo Angelo's?"
"No," I answered. She shot me a look.
"He's right. We're not friends," Valentina answered.
"Oh. A shame. Well, you can't get everything in life," Mamãe said. "Ricardo Angelo, let's go."
"'Kay. By, Valentina." I said. She waved back, and I left the church with my mother.
"She's pretty," Mamãe said when we turned the corner to head home.
"Whatever you think," I said.
"You are thirteen. I wouldn't mind you dating her,"
"Ma!"
"She looks wealthy, too,"
"Change the subject,"
"Oh, stop being embarrassed," she said. "I have a good feeling about her."
"Yeah, okay," I said, rolling my eyes. Mamãe didn't notice, thank God.
"She has a nice body, too."
"Ma!"