Praise the Lloyd

1

"I don't get it, Gran." I say to my grandma as I eat my breakfast.

"What don't you get?"

"Why the team sucks so much, I'm Carli Lloyd's daughter. I should at least have the drive to get the team to not sit at 121 in the state."

"Soccer isn't hereditary, hon." Gran says, kissing my head.

"I wish it was."

"Your mother is finalizing her move this week, maybe you two will be able to train together now." Gramps says, coming into the kitchen with us and I sigh as I leave half my plate full as I grab my jacket and backpack.

"Not holding my breath." I say. "I gotta get to school guys." I say, and they nod as I leave.

"She never finishes her breakfast." Gran mumbles as I head to the front door and I chuckle to myself, heading out, to my car, and driving to school. Soccer, my mom didn't push it onto me as a kid, she really didn't. It's just, watching my mom play and be so awesome on the field inspired me, made me want to be like her, and now I am, I'm the best on my team, and on my club team, but it doesn't matter, both still suck. No matter how hard I work, we still suck. At least we still make it to state. I wish we would've won it this year, it's my senior year, and this past season was my last shot at getting that title. But nope. Sighing, I park in my usual spot and hesitate before getting out of the car.

"Looky, looky, Lloyd." I hear my best friend call out and I chuckle.

"Hey, bitch." I say, and she grins at me.

"So, game day, you coming tonight?" She asks and I sigh. She's a softball player, and I've always gone to her games, but tonight I had dinner with my mom and Brian.

"Shit, man. You should've told me like, last week, I have plans already. I've got dinner with Carli and her husband tonight." I say, curling my toes in my shoes as I call my mom by her name.

"Damn."

"I'll try to get out of it." I say, and she grins, looping her arm around me and walking with me into the building, over to our other friends.

-

In my third hour, we were given a free day as the teacher let some of the other students make up missing assignments, and I had everything turned in. If I had anything below a B on my progress report, my mother would show up in my room, drag me out of my bed by my big toe, and we'd run. Run until one of us dropped. It's always me. So, I've only had a few poor grades. Mostly out of fear of running myself to death. She does it to help me strive for success. We were given permission to use our phones, so that's what I did. I texted my mom.

Me: How's the move going?

Mom: Boring, tiring, almost done. Why are you texting me during school?

Me: Make up day in my third hour.

Mom: It better be.

Me: When have I ever lied to you?

Mom: Saying you were straight when you weren't.

Me: For valid resons.

Mom: Abby Wambach was my teammate, Pinoe, Ash, Ali, Tobin, Kling.

Me: Coming out is scary, mom, even when you know you'll be accepted.

Mom: I know you didn't text me to talk about you lying about your sexuality.

Me: No, Tyler has her first game tonight and she wants me there.

Mom: We had dinner.