Two Way Street

“Fuck,” I groaned, wiping away another bit of blood from my mouth. Freakin’ Mara, thinking that it would be a great idea to spring herself forward without any control at all. Sighing and closing my eyes for a second, I pulled up the collar of my t-shirt and finished wiping the split in my lip.

“Hey, Liam.” I turned around at the sound of my name to find Mara walking toward me.

“Hi,” I responded, using my shoulder to wipe off any blood that may have dripped down my chin.

“I’m so sorry,” she expressed, her eyes fixed on my mouth. “I really didn’t mean to hit you.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really,” she insisted. “I feel like shit about it. And it’s starting to swell.”

Drawing my eyebrows together, I pressed a couple of fingers against my bottom lip. She was right; it was about twice the size of normal. “Perfect,” I sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

I shook my head and brushed by her. “It’s not a big deal. Just drop it.”

When I walked back over to the boys, Mara a few steps behind me, they all seemed to think my appearance was the funniest thing to happen for a long time. “Oh my God, you look like Angelina Jolie!” Louis burst out between fits of laughter.

“Ha. Ha.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. “Are we going to finish the football game now or what?”

“I agree with Liam,” Mara spoke up, stepping out from behind me. “Let’s stop being lazy and get our arses on the field!”

Harry immediately sprung to his feet, wiping the grass off his butt. “I’m ready.”

The other boys got up slowly, talking amongst one another.

We all took our positions on the pitch, and I felt the adrenaline course through my body. We had to score three goals, while also holding off Mara’s team, in order to win the game. And we had to win. There was no way I was going to allow Harry to get those bragging rights. He’d never shut up about it or let us forget it.

I swallowed and took a deep breath, feeling my game face take form, as I looked over at Mara. Her hazel eyes had a fire behind them, her lips turned up a bit in the corner, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. I had to admit, she looked fit, but there was no way I was going to let that fact distract me.

Niall took the ball into his hand and launched it across the field, right at Harry. Zayn was too slow, and Harry was able to receive the throw, bouncing it off his chest before starting to dribble it down the field.

“GET YOUR HEAD TOGETHER,” I screamed at Zayn, irritated that he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

He glanced at me innocently, almost offended-looking, before taking off down the field after Harry. But Zayn was nowhere near as fast as Harry was, thanks to those cigarettes he insisted on smoking.

Ignoring Mara next to me, I sprinted down the field, catching up to Harry just as he was about to shoot. But I was too late; he’d already shot the ball into the corner above Louis' head.

Just as my heart stopped beating, Louis jumped into action, getting a grip on the football right before it smacked into the net.

“ALRIGHT, LOU!” I congratulated, clapping my hands together.

He gave me a proud look before looking around for someone to throw the ball to. Quickly, I darted across the field, getting myself open and away from Mara.

Once the ball was against my feet, all my thought process stopped, and it was just the ball, Niall, and me. I just needed to keep up my speed, and there was no way Mara would be able to catch up with me.

That was what I hoped, anyway, but I could hear her determined breathing behind me just as I approached the goal. Without thinking or checking for her, I feigned right before kicking the ball as hard as I could into the top left corner.

Niall realized his mistake quickly, but just a second too late. The ball brushed the tops of his fingertips, making a whooshing sound as it sank into the net.

“Fuck,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.

“YES!” I screamed, fist-pumping the air. I turned around to find Zayn jogging toward me. We gave each other a double high-five, both of us grinning like crazy. It was possible we’d be able to come back from our deficit.

“Are you girls done celebrating now?” Mara questioned, one hand on her hip.

I turned to her, smirking. “I dunno. Why? Does it bother you that we’re going to win this?”

She let out a loud, malicious laugh. “Oh, please, honey. There’s no way that you’re going to beat me. Especially not with your fake-out tactic. I saw better when I played football in primary school.”

“Ohhh,” Harry cooed, going over and slapping his teammate on the back.

I narrowed my eyes, ready to fire back with something twice as nasty, when Zayn broke in. “Okay, guys, that’s enough. Let’s finish the game.”

I nodded stiffly, going over to Mara, feeling the adrenaline in my blood intensify with a new round of dislike for her. I knew she was just talking rubbish, just like everyone did while playing with their friends, but it just irritated me when it came from her. And I knew it was because I already wasn’t fond of her.

Niall kicked the ball all the way across the field, Mara already on her way to get it. I cursed under my breath as I ran as quickly as I could, trying to cut her off before she could score. ‘Cause there was no way any good could come from Mara trying to score against Louis. She knew his game like the back of her hand, and she had tricks up her sleeve that Louis hadn’t seen. Plus, Louis was completely out of practice playing with her.

Finally, I got to where she was, and I kicked my foot out, trying to steal the ball out from in front of her. But she was too fast, maneuvering the ball between her feet so quickly that it almost didn’t seem to happen at all. Her running didn’t even seem to be interrupted by my attack.

I sped up even faster, my breath heavy in my ears, as we neared the net. One more time, I darted out in front of her, trying to kick the ball out on front of her.

And my toe made contact. And the ball moved just far enough out of her reach that she hesitated. And I was golden.

I hurried around her and kicked the ball as hard as I could to Zayn, who was standing just in front of the midfield line.

My face broke into a grin as I sprinted over to Zayn. Once I got in front of him, I called his name breathlessly.

He looked up for a second, his brown eyes making contact with me, before deciding not to pass it.

At first, I was pissed, but he looked like he was completely in the zone. We could actually win this, I thought hopefully.

Zayn moved faster than I had ever seen him, Harry lagging only a couple steps behind. But Zayn was already at the goal. He swung back his foot, kicked it as hard as I could, and…

Niall caught it easily, without straining himself in the least.

“FUCK,” Zayn yelled, punching the air angrily. “SO CLOSE.”

And then someone’s phone started going off, marking the end of the game.

I let out a breath and wiped the sweat off my face. “I hate football,” I muttered. And my lip, which was starting to hurt again, pulsed with pain in agreement.