My Online Relationship with Harry Styles

PaRt OnE: ChApTeR ElEvEn

*.*.*.*.My Online Relationship with Harry Styles.*.*.*.*

ChApTeR ElEvEn:

All day, everyday, we practiced as hard we could. No being tired, and no giving up. Keeping our head in the game, was our main goal.

My heart sped, as the moment came closer. The semi finals, against Spain. My feet felt cramped in my cleats. I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for the ref to blow the whistle. I had never started a game. But since we were down one player that twisted her ankle, I had to step up. I stood, with the ball at my feet. I bit my lip. Then, the ref blew the whistle, and I tapped the ball forward, passing it to my teammate, who passed it back to the center mid. I fell back, playing in my normal position. I watched, jogging along, as my team passed the ball slowly up. Then our right mid, sprinted with the ball at her feet. She quickly passed it to the forward, but one of the Spanish players, got to the ball first , passing the ball to the mid fielder, who bolted down the field, weaving in and out of players. This game was going to be tough.

The Spanish players, were really good. But we still managed to keep them from scoring. At half time, our coach, was yelling at us to take the ball and go for it. And that we needed to attack more. Then we all got back on the field.

The Spanish players, almost made a goal, because of our lack of defense. If it weren't for our goalies, quick reflexes, we would be down one nothing. Then suddenly a player came towards me, faking me out and passing me. I ran behind her, trying to steel the ball. When I finally got ahold of the ball I turned and sprinted towards the other side of the field. When suddenly I saw a Spanish player, marking me, and almost reaching the ball. Then I just decided to pass the ball to my right, hoping someone on our team would get it. Then suddenly, a Spanish player took the ball, quickly dribbling down the field. She was now one on one with our goalie. She swung her leg back, and I watched as the ball flew past our goalies legs, and into the net. I couldn't believe it. I had just given the ball to a Spanish player. allowing her to easily, score. Coach was going to kill, me.

I turned and dared, look at my coach, who was yelling his head off. I as I got closer to him, he yelled," What's wrong with you? How could you just pass the ball to the other player, letting her score. Are you out of your mind?" I said nothing. I was ashamed of myself. We might not score in time, and the game will be lost!

The game was one to nothing. Spain was winning.

Then, suddenly I got a hold of the ball. I dribbled quickly, passing the ball to the forward. She weaved through the defence, and passed it to the right mid. Our right mid fielder, quickly lifted the ball up, tapping it in the air, and heading it towards the goalie. The goalie blocked it and the forward crashed and shot the ball, just barely, across the white line. GOAL! Yes! I ran up to Catherine( the forward, that scored) and squeezed her. We cheered for her, and i looked over to my coach who had a relieved expression, on. As we headed back to our positions, my coach yelled, "Sub ref?" The ref nodded and my coach looked at me and tilted his head, towards the bench. I slowly walked out, being replaced by Abbie, who just gave a sympathetic look. My coach walked over to me and began yelling in my face.

But all heard, was my heart pounding. His face turning red, as my eyes watered. I couldn't, cry. The only thing I did hear was when he said, " Your gonna have to prove to me your capable of playing in the final, if, we go. You have to come up with a very good reason! Or else, I can't trust you. Knowing you might pass the ball to the WRONG player!!" I bit my lip and nodded. I ran into the locker room and held my head in my hands.

I could have cost us the game, and the world cup.

After 10 minutes of moping, and scolding myself mentally, I heard the ref blow his whistle and the crowd cheer. The game was over. But now the penalty kicks were left. I walked back out, sitting on the bench. I watched as the team gathered to pick, who would take the kicks. Then as they kicked, Spain missed there last shot. It was all up to Catherine. She swung her foot back, and blasted the ball into the net. The crowed cheered, as she ran and hugged coach. Everyone piled on top of her. Everyone except, me. I simply stood up and and clapped. I wasn't in the mood for celebrating. Not because I was jealous, or anything. But because, we could have lost the game. Because of me.