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thirty-one:: when he cheers you on.

Excuse me for knowing absolutely nothing about soccer.

THIRTY-ONE: when he cheers you on.

It was that following Thursday... After days of basically coaching the team, we weren't getting any better. Our game was in two days, we couldn't afford a slip up and our new goalie just wasn't getting it. He wasn't like Ryland who could at least pretend he knew what he was doing. No, this new guy: Johnny -I believe- last name: Casey was slow and he was frail and the only reason he was actually on varsity was because the boy could run.

And when I said run, I meant run.

He couldn't dribble, he couldn't shoot, he could barely look me in the eye but the guy never got tired. His spider-like legs were long and he had a nice quick pass but he utterly sucked at blocking. He had one thing to do and he failed but I couldn't blame him, Andy had put him in a place where his little strengths weren't utilized. Casey groaned softly, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees when I'd paused from kicking balls at him. The rest of the team was doing laps, Andy yelling at them to "speed up or you're cut," he had more endurance than me, more patience as well but for some reason he'd instructed me to help the kid out.

Must've been his lack of faith.

"You ready?" I'd asked, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. It was hot, it was really hot out and I could see that Casey just wanted to go home, he seemed about ready to pass out.

But Casey shook his head, looking up at the sky and holding his hands out for a bottle of water I'd motioned towards. When he'd gotten it in his hands, the boy ripped it open, chugging it back until it was half-empty. I could see the sweat on his jersey as he breathed heavily; I could see the exhaustion, "I suck, don't I?"

And I didn't want to lie to him so biting my lip, I watched as he stood straight. He sucked air into his lungs before raising his arms above his head. His face was red and he pushed his hands through his hair and then he got back into position.

I'd kicked the ball at my feet softly, "A little bit but I can tell it's not your thing." Andy hadn't fully assessed this kid. Although he was quick on his feet, he wasn't tough enough to play goalie nor did he have the confidence. And as I kicked the ball at Casey, I could hear Andy wrapping up the laps and the feet pounding coming to an end.

Casey dived for the ball, just barely missing by his fingertips and when he'd landed on the ground, he'd stayed there. Shoving his head in his hands, he cursed softly before hitting the ground and standing up again. I didn't want to stress the kid too much, we'd gone through nearly an hour of this and he'd only blocked three kicks.

When I felt a clap on my shoulder, a weight was lifted off my shoulder as Andy yelled back at the guys laid out on the grass. "Take a break." Gritting his teeth, Andy spoke sharply, "Jensen, I want another lap."

And I witnessed the guy he was speaking to, get up, brushing the back of his shorts off before starting his run not even looking at my co-captain.

The guy beside me turned back around, jerking his head in the direction of Casey as I leaned over. Furrowing my brows, I asked, "What'd he do?"

He shrugged, "Acted like a smartass."

Casey kicked he ball at his feet, small frown on his face as he furrowed his brows and looked in between the ball and the goal. He seemed preoccupied enough, pretty adorable if you asked me. Turning towards Andy, I sighed, "Can I talk to you for a bit?"