I sit on the warm, wet grass. Mist sprays me every two minutes as the sprinkler passes by my direction. The sun beams down on me, waving a friendly hello as it is likely burning my skin to a crisp. I fall on my back and look to the sky. I find shapes in the clouds. I hear heavy, tired footsteps and friendly conversation all around me, but I simply ignore it. My mind is elsewhere. I wonder if Matt is looking at me. Curses, I'm supposed to get used to using his code name. Cleats. That's his code name. Not very original and probably guessable, but that's how I remember him. Matt and his soccer cleats.
I do soccer too, but not like anybody else on the team does. I mostly do it to fill free time. Me and the word 'athletic' do not go hand in hand, and pretty much anyone with eyes can see that by the way I'm lying lazily on the grass after practice, while everybody else is playing an extra game of soccer for "fun."
"Izzy!" I hear. Shuffling feet come running up to my ear. I shoot up, scared to get kicked in the head by Maria's hard, clunky cleats. My ponytail sways behind me. My sweaty red and black uniform sticks to me uncomfortably. Maria towers over me, looking down with impatience. "Izzy." She says again. "Maria," I mock. She rolls her puppy dog brown eyes. She may have an intimidating personality, but she has the cute, innocent eyes of a golden retriever.
"Are you going to play?" She asks, tapping her foot on synthetic grass. "No," I answer plainly. She should know this by now. I don't do sports. She crouches down until her lips meet my ear. "Cleats might be watching," she whispers with a grin. I can't see her, but I know she's grinning. A little part of me suddenly wants to play a game of soccer.
I sigh. I tighten my ponytail. "Is my makeup okay?" I ask Maria in defeat. She smiles ear to ear. "Of course. Now come on, let's go before they start without us!" She pulls me up and I run behind her, much slower. Matt is standing with his friends, doing stretches and chatting. His perfect, fluffy hair looks so good. Gosh, I'm cheesy. I need to quit thinking about him and focus on playing well, or else he'll think I'm a sucky player. Which I am, but he can't know that just yet.
I walk over to where he is. I try to stand as close as possible to him. Pebbles get caught in my throat when I swear he takes a step closer to me. He totally likes me. I look down at my sticky uniform and curse the sun. I bet I smell so bad right now. This is not an ideal environment for a crush. I have to talk to him. I've never spoken to him before, but I'm pretty sure he's nodded to me once. He's also looked at me like, twice. I think that's a sign. I think.
I fake look at my wrist to fake realize I'm not wearing a watch. I sigh so he can hear my fake disappointment of not knowing the time. "Hey, do you know the time?" I ask. He doesn't hear me. "It's two sixteen," his friend tells me. I smile. "Thanks," I say. Disappointment mixed with embarrassment flushes down my system. Did he not hear me or did he just not wanna tell me the time? This is such a bad day. I hate soccer.
For whatever reason, I end up being the goalie. I don't know much about soccer anyways though, so I wouldn't really know many other positions. You would think being on a soccer team for two years would teach you something, but not if you aren't paying any mind to what the coaches are saying.
"Izzy! Pay attention!" Some boy shouts. I remind myself the game has started and I quit twirling my ponytail. Whoops. I stand impatiently while they play. I doubt anyone on the opposing team will score, because Matt and Maria aren't on that team. They're pretty much the only good ones. There's also the boy who told me the time, Lorenzo. He's really good too, I suppose. I watch as Matt gets accidentally shoved. He tumbles to the ground and I really, really wanna go check on him but I know it would be weird. I don't even know him.
So I stay put as they call a foul and continue playing. Matt is out. I look at the cute strawberry design on my cleats as they play. I wonder if I should replace the laces with ribbo- "IZZY WATCH OUT!" Somebody yells as a soccer ball comes flying at my face. I at least hope someone took a BeReal of the ball flying towards my face before it hit me in the nose and nearly knocked me out.
I lay, once more, on the grass, but this time I'm seeing stars. Someone taps my cheek repeatedly and I would yell at them for being annoying if I was conscious enough. Or if I could move. But my face feels a whole lot of pain at the moment. "You idiot, why would you hit her in the face!" I hear Maria yell. "She's the goalie. She's supposed to block the ball from getting in the net, preferably not with her head." I hear Lorenzo saying. For a guy who just knocked me out, he should sound a whole lot less nonchalant.
I'm gonna beat this dude up once I'm awake. And once I get some proper training, of course. I don't feel like getting two black eyes in one day. "Izzy, can you hear me?" I hear Kaya say. I can't stand Kaya. She's such a bone-headed, self absorbed pick-me. I hate that she's pretty and she knows it. Being pretty is fine, but she's so conceited about it. All she ever talks about is how many guys complimented her that week.
I manage a thumbs up at her question. I hear giddy claps. "Oh my gosh, I was so scared, guys!" She says, pitching her voice higher. Forget Lorenzo, I'm gonna beat her up. "Okay, we need to get her to a bench," I hear the coach say. I pray that Maria thinks fast. "Okay, we need to get some guys to carry her. Matt, get over here," Maria says. Yes, Maria!
I am so going to get Maria flowers after this. I hear voices around my head. "You get her feet," I hear a boy say. "Okay, you get this arm," I hear Matt say. Yes, Matt! "We need another person for this arm," a boy says. I hear someone else being walked over. "No," he says. "Literally why." Maria says, annoyed. "I have places to be," I hear Lorenzo say.
Ugh. "Lorenzo, just shut up and help." Maria says. I almost chuckle. Suddenly, I'm being swiftly lifted off the ground by three or so people. I really, really hope I'm not heavy. Being carried is not exactly the dream I had always pictured it would be, it's actually pretty scary and my limbs hurt. If you can't tell by now, I'm a complainer. I try to keep it in my head for the most part, though.
I'm placed kind-of gently on a hard metal bench, and I thank Maria in my head for getting Lorenzo to carry me. Now, I just need to talk to him. Get to know him. But he's so intimidating . . . I realize now my nose doesn't hurt as bad anymore. I crack open one eye. Nice job, you just looked straight at the sun, Izzy. This time, when I open both my eyes, I try to look somewhere that won't blind me. Which would be? The back of my coach's bald head. Nice. So this is how my day is going.
"Izzy! Izzy! Izzy!" I am suddenly bombarded by tiny fingers. My little sister. "Izz-" I clasp a hand over her mouth and sit up, still a little dizzy. "Fifi, you say my name one more time and I swear," my older sister walks up to the bench. "Izzy, enough bullying Fiona." She says. "Jackie, don't call me Fiona, it's Fifi." My little sister interrupts. Jackie smiles. "Okay, Fifi." My sister looks to me again.
"What happened to you?" She says judgily, eyeing my face. "Don't ask," I start. Then, Matt walks up to us. "Hey," he says in my general direction. I smile. I can't believe he's talking to me. He walked in my specific area of seating just to say hi. That has to mean something. My sister twirls her perfect, straight blonde hair before sticking her tongue out at Fifi.
"Sorry about, well, you know," he says, looking at me apologetically. I just know my cheeks are blushing right now. "No no, it's perfectly fine," I rush to say. He gives an awkward smile. I think I hear crickets chirp as awkward silence grows between us. Come on, dude, make conversation. You talked to me first! I wait for him to say something else to fill the silence, but he says nothing. "What are you apologizing about? What happened?" My sister says, standing up and setting her hands on Fifi's tiny shoulders.
"She caught the soccer ball with her face," a deep voice says behind me. Lorenzo. My sister's jaw unhinges itself for a few seconds before she breaks out in a fit of laughter. "You got hit in the face with a ball!" She says, hitting her knee. "Jackie, it's not that funny." I say, my face deflated. You've got to be kidding me.
"Lorenzo, when did you even get here?" I say, turning facing him. "I've been sitting here for the past five minutes." He says with a straight face. "What, so you were just eavesdropping?" I joke. "On what conversation," he says. Ouch. I stand up. I suddenly feel light-headed. "Woah, woah woah," I hear Lorenzo say, before he's holding me upright, his hands on either side of my arms.
"You okay?" He says. I nod. This is the worst day ever. My sister cups my face in her hand. "Aw, Izzy," she coo's. Please get me out of here ASAP. I grab my strawberry cleats and walk to the car. I am so done for today. "How was practice?" my mom says cheerily. I can see her reflection in the rearview mirror. She has tear stains down her cheeks.
"I got hit in the face with a soccer ball. It was so fun, mom. I'm sure Jackie wishes she got it on video," I say in a monotone voice. She sighs. "No good day?" She says. "No good," I respond. I watch as Jackie walks to my side of the car. I'm already sitting on this side, idiot. I think to myself. She scoffs and walks to the other side when she sees I'm sitting here. "Where is Fifi?" I ask as Jackie slides in next to me. Her face goes slack. "Uhhh-"
there's a rapping on my window. I look to see Matt Furman holding up my four year-old sister. I quickly open the car door and hop out. "I'm so so so sorry," I say, grabbing her. He smiles to the side. I can feel my heart beating hard against my chest. Can your knees really go weak? I guess I just found that out. This is the most I've ever spoken to Matt.
He looks me up and down. I'll bet my fly-aways and baby hairs are less than gorgeous with this sweaty ponytail. "I don't mind," he smiles. He has blue eyes. Noted. He unexpectedly leans down to look into our car, at my sister. He smiles and waves. Jackie smiles her cute smile and he turns back to look at me. "Well, I guess I'll let you go," he says. I laugh. That wasn't funny, why did I just laugh? "Alright, thanks Mattie." I get into the car as fast as I possibly can. I really, really hope he didn't hear me just call him "Mattie" like he's a five year old.
"Mattie?" My mom repeats. "Just drive." I say. I lean my head back against the headrest and feel my heart beating fast against my chest. I smile. I rethink the moment, his smile, him holding my little sister, my moms tears down her cheeks- oh. I lean to the right subtly to see her face. A tear falls onto her leather seat. Great. I was hoping my parents would figure another one of their stupid fights before I got back from practice but clearly that was false optimism.
What a great end to the day.
