Without Holding Back

Chapter One

Two years later

July              

The sun beats down on my already sunburned shoulders and I curse the day I chose this sport. I should have picked a nice, graceful indoor sport, like ice skating or tennis. I could have been an artist like my mom, covered in paint instead of sweat. Or an actress like Emme, spending my days rehearsing lines in the comfort of my air-conditioned suburban bedroom. But no, I had to follow in Connor's footsteps, which led me to this scorching hot lacrosse field in Gainesville, Florida. I truly don't think there's a more humid place on earth right now than the University of Florida, which we've been visiting or the past five days. Sweat pools into crevices of my body I didn't even know I had, and my damp hair is plastered uncomfortably against my scalp.

I make my way to the sidelines and slump down on the metal bench, the seat burning my thighs through my thin mesh shorts. I lift my water bottle to my mouth and savor the lukewarm dribble of water that trickles out.

Playing here has been an uphill battle. If I wore my emotions on my sleeve like my mom and sister, I would be shedding actual tears of frustration right now. But I, Olivia Cooper, am pretty much a master at burying my emotions. So instead of crying, I glance at the scoreboard, desperately trying to find something that I can actually control. We need to score exactly ten goals in the next twenty minutes in order to win this game.

Impossible.

Daisy limps lethargically off the field, her hands in the universal 'time-out' signal.

"Wilson!" Our coach from back home, the appropriately nicknamed Queen because she's basically lacrosse royalty, calls after her. "I didn't call you out!" She blows her whistle for good measure. That damn whistle. I hear it in my dreams at this point. I suppose we're lucky to have her here, though. Not only were Daisy and I chosen as the best of the best from Illinois, but Queen was, too. She's been making the most of our time here, something I haven't quite been able to do.

"I'm taking a break," Daisy shouts back at her. "I'm about to literally die."

Queen ignores the back talk. If I know anything about my best friend, it's that her tiny stature and auburn ringlets make her somewhat invincible. Nobody gets angry at someone who looks like a life-size Madame Alexander doll.

Daisy plops down on the bench next to me and dumps the contents of her water bottle over her head. "I curse the day we made the all-star team," she mutters, echoing my thoughts from earlier. "I curse it."

"Feels more like a punishment than an honor," I say.

"Who knew Florida would be this freaking hot in July?" Daisy gripes. "And that the girls here would be this good?"

"I miss home," I say miserably.

"I miss air conditioning," Daisy says.

"I miss winning," I add, because we win everything at home.

Well, almost everything.

Months later, it's still hard to talk about the state championship game. It was ours for the taking after an undefeated season. Maybe we were too confident and didn't bother bringing our A game, or maybe we just weren't as good as we thought we were. Either way, we lost by three points and broke our own hearts in the process. I'll never forget the way Emme's face fell when the last whistle blew, my dad quietly tucking away the championship banner he made at the print shop in town, my mom's expression of disbelief. They weren't sitting together, my parents. But they were in the same general vicinity, and that seemed like something.