Lacrosse

21- Confessions and Aggressions

Josh

It's game time. It's time to shut these Pittsburgh Hills boys up. It's time to remind them that we are the defending state and national champions. It's time to get revenge.

"Josh, Andrew, Todd, you're starting on midfield," Coach Scott instructs, jabbing his finger at his clipboard with our positions written out. "Alec, Brandon, Trace, you're defense. Ty, Nick, Greg, you're attack."

The referee blows his whistle in the center of the field, letting us know that it's time for us to take our positions.

My teammates and I gather around in a large circle, putting our sticks up high in the air.

"Panthers on three, panthers on three! One, two three, panthers!" Todd yells, the rest of us repeating the last line of the chant. Our voices seem to echo, becoming louder and more powerful than ever before. We can all feel it, the adrenaline building inside of us, the tensions growing in the stands.

I rush on to the field, hollering with the rest of my teammates to psych Pittsburgh Hills out, and take my position in the center of the field. I get down on the ground, in the starting position for the face off. I recognize the boy I am going up against. His name is Michael Corbin. We played travel together when we were younger and he was always extraordinary. I haven't talked to him since he went to their team, and by the look in his eyes, I don't wish I had. His eyes are like black beads, staring in to my blue puddles, staring in to my soul. His teeth are sharp and remind me of an animal, snarling as he gets in to his starting position, waiting to attack his pray.

As soon as the ref whistles, I push my stick up against Michael's and flip over him, stealing the ball from underneath him as I do so. I cradle the ball in the net of my stick, my former friend whacking at my sides with his stick, but I keep running. I cross in to our offensive zone and find an open attack, Ty, and pass to him. He secures the white sphere in his pocket and fires at the goal, the ball zooming in to the net behind the goalie.

"Yeah!" I scream, running over to Ty. As I approach, we jump in to the air, hitting our shoulders against each other before landing back on the turf.

The two teams reset their positions and I set up for the face off against Michael again. This time, he wins it.

At half time, we gather around Coach Scott, sport bottles full of Gatorade in our hands. He begins to talk to us about how we were playing and what we need to improve, but I stop paying attention soon after he begins. Instead, I look towards the bleachers, my eyes scanning the top row for Kendall. I find her leaning against the metal side, legs hugged close to her chest. The rest of her team chats excitedly about who knows what, and quite frankly, I could care less. All I care about is Kendall. I will her to look down to me, to look at anything but the sky for that matter. And she does. Her eyes meet mine and she attempts a smile, but I can't blame her for failing. Who could smile after what has happened?

I lift my pointer fingers from both gloved hands to my eyes. I.

Then I make the shape of a heart with my hands. Love.

And I finish by pointing at her. You.

She repeats it back to me, and this time, she actually manages to smile.

"We're going to go back on the way we started the game," Scott informs. "Keep playing the way you are and we'll have this in the bag. They're dying out there. Play clean lacrosse and nothing can stop you."

I look up at the digital scoreboard on the opposite side of the field as Todd begins the chant and we run to take our positions. We're winning ten to four, but that can easily change. They can come back in no time at all, and we still have plenty of time.