Gone

Taking a deep breath to try to relieve some of my excitement, I threw my long, dirty blonde hair up into a fast, slightly bumpy ponytail. My body was already starting to rev with adrenaline at the thought of kicking around a ball again. Sure, I’d practiced over the summer, trying to keep my skills sharp, but there was something about playing against people who were actually good (no offense to Manny) that made me more excited than anything.

My black shorts made a faint swishing noise as I made my way out to the soccer field alone, my red and black soccer ball tucked under my arm. The other girls who were going to be trying out were still in the locker room, gossiping as they got changed. For them, soccer was more a time to be social on the sidelines than kiss ass on the grass. It used to irritate me, back when I was more intense, but I’d since chilled out. A screaming, judgmental captain was not what the team needed to stay cohesive, and it did nothing but create rifts and hostility.

Unsurprisingly, I was the first one to the tryouts. Not even the teacher who served as the figurehead of coach had arrived yet. To pass the time, I dribbled the ball around a little bit, just trying to get my blood pumping. It was still hot and humid outside, thanks to school starting at the end of August, but it didn’t do anything to dampen my spirit, even if it did dampen my shirt a bit.

“Oh, thank God,” I heard an accented voice call out, sounding relieved. “I was afraid I’d be the first to the pitch.”

Knowing immediately who the voice belonged to, I turned around, crossing my arms in front of the t-shirt I got when I ran the 5k the year before. Although Manny often exaggerated the attractiveness of various boys, she hadn’t been lying about our English exchange student. He was tall with a solid build and curly light brown hair that seemed to fall just perfectly around his head. As the jogged toward me, his calf muscles flexed, showing that he was no stranger to athletic activities.

In short, he was fucking gorgeous.

“The pitch?” I finally answered, peeling a lock of hair off my slightly sweaty cheek.

“Yeah,” he replied, blushing slightly. “What we’re standing on?”

Oh. The field. Right. “Okay,” I allowed. “Are you here to try out?”

“Oh, yeah.” Liam grinned, showing off straight, white teeth. “I love football.”

“Football’s…” I started, meaning to tell him that he was trying out for the wrong thing, but realizing after a second that English people didn’t call it soccer. “Oh, right.”

“I’m Liam,” he introduced. “But you’ve probably already heard about me. This school is tiny.”

I nodded. “Frankie,” I reciprocated. “Your captain, if you’re lucky enough to make the team.”

He raised his thick eyebrows, probably surprised that I had the courage to start trash-talking right off the bat. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

I was about to respond with something witty and cool, just to make a good impression if Manny ended up scoring with him, but before I could get a word out, I heard a distant male voice calling, “Hey, Frank!”

Liam faded into the background as I chatted with my coach, mostly catching up on our vacations and whether I’d been practicing or not. The two of us had gotten pretty close my freshman year, when I turned out to be a secret weapon on the team, and, in turn, no one ever wanted to talk to me. So Coach always made sure to keep up a conversation with me so I didn’t look so pathetic.

Soon enough, everyone had gathered on the field, and they sat in a small group while I stood up in front of them. I felt so much like a leader, so powerful and strong. It was the same thing I felt as I was playing, and I loved it.

“Alright, guys, so here’s the deal. We’re going to take twelve players today, which is enough for about two strings. Are any of you goalies?” One girl raised her hand. “Okay then. That makes the decision easy.” I laughed lightly, which no one responded to. I could see the anxiety written all over their faces, and I was dying to make them loosen up. “I know you guys are feeling a lot of pressure right now, but just take a couple deep breaths. This is supposed to be fun. And the twelve isn’t a strict number, so if I like you, I could still keep you. Everybody ready?”

There was a short, pathetic cheer, only done by a couple of veteran members. Liam was sitting in the corner, almost staring me down, looking like he was assessing exactly how I’d play the game. It was kind of unnerving, but I made a conscious effort to keep the emotion off my face.

“Alright, everybody, line up. We’re going to jog a couple laps around the field. After that, we’ll break up into groups of four and run some drills, and then we’ll break into two teams and play a little scrimmage. You’ll all be free by five, I promise.”

Everyone rose to their feet, chatting amongst themselves, while I got to the front of the line. Some of the newbies still looked nervous, but I knew they’d get more at ease as we went.

The laps and drills went well, with the new players talking and joking and laughing, while still managing to keep enough focus to complete what I asked of them. Liam looked particularly intense, with this harsh glare that showed he took no prisoners. It kind of took me off-guard, considering Manny had described him as shy and sweet, like a little puppy, but I knew he was going to be a great asset to the team. I just couldn’t wait to see him in action during the scrimmage.

When the time finally came and I had a fairly good idea of who would work and who wouldn’t, I told everyone to break up into two teams. And in the end, I joined the team that didn’t include Liam.

“Alright, guys, here’s the plan,” I whispered as they clung to my every word. For some reason, all the veterans had sided with Liam, while the newbies had to fend for themselves. I was glad they had me on their side. “I have a feeling that they’re going to choose Liam, the tall, curly-haired guy, as their center. Is everyone cool if I take the spot?”

“Um, there’s no way I’m going up against him,” a short boy with spiky black hair expressed. “He looks like he wants to bite our heads off.”

I knew the feeling. “Okay, cool. So I’ll play him.” After delegating the spots according to where they liked playing, I pointed at a short redheaded girl and a slightly chubby (though quite fast, as he demonstrated during the drills), zit-riddled kid. “I need you guys to run down the field, so when I get the ball from Liam, I’m going to kick it down to whoever’s open.”

“What makes you so sure that you can steal it from him?” the black-haired kid questioned.

I turned and smirked at him before straightening back out and clapping my hands together to signal a break in the meeting.

We all got into our proper positions on the field. The shyest kid was stuck in goal, just because she was too afraid to speak up against it, and the only goalie trying out was on the other team.

Coach held the ball over our heads, putting the whistle in his mouth as Liam’s gaze caught mine. His eyes had a fire in them that I hadn’t seen in a while, and my heart started tor race with excitement. Of anyone to go up against him, I knew I was the best bet. He may have been good, but I was confident that I’d leave him in the dust.

The black and white object fell between us, and Liam was just another barrier in my way. At the speed of light, I kicked the ball from in front of him, dribbling it between him and the kid to his left, darting down the field.

I heard Liam curse under his breath and run after me. Clearly, he’d underestimated me, and it came back to bite him in the end. But I could hear him closing in on me, and I had to pass the thing off if I wanted to keep the possibility of scoring.

I looked up for the two people I had told to move up ahead, but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, I saw the chubby kid come out from behind a defender, and I got ready to kick it in his direction.

And then, I didn’t have the ball. It happened so quickly, just like a flash, that it took my mind a second to catch up. Turning, completely furious, I found Liam hurrying down the field, dribbling the ball perfectly, looking like some kind of god that decided playing with humans would be a fun way to amuse himself.

He stole the ball from me. No one had ever stolen a ball from me. I was the cream of the crop, one of the best players in the league.

What a fucking asshole.