ʀᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ | ᴋᴏ ✔︎

1

"Grace under pressure"
(Definition of 'guts')
Ernest Hemingway.
(1898-1961)

3rd Person POV.

"Just a few minutes left of regulation time as we close in on the 90 minute mark, it looks like this game will go to extra time."

"I think you're right, John. These two teams met earlier in the year, Seattle came out on the receiving end of a rather humiliating defeat."

"True, but that was before the young sensation, Logan Scott joined the team. Since then, SU have been unbeaten! This girl is certainly going places."

"Speak of the devil! Young Scott gets the ball from team Captain, Vicki Martin. She dances her way through the defensive line-"

"Oh! Beautiful footwork, but embarrassing defending."

"She's one-on-one with the 'keeper."

"GOOOAL! She doesn't hesitate to hit the ball into the upper 90, to the goalkeepers left, and it sails into the net! Logan Scott has surely just won this game for her team!"

"Absolutely, John and the team knows it, look at how they're swarming their young forward."

"The ref calls the game! Seattle are the new NCAA Champions! What an end to the soccer year for these young women, the crowd certainly enjoyed it!"

"I enjoyed it too! Let's get Logan Scott's thoughts on that finish. She's with our reporter, Cindy Lowe."

"Logan, great game, congratulations!"

"Thank you, it was a lot of fun."

"I bet. Now, a couple of questions. What was going through your mind towards the end of that amazing run through the defense?"

"Uh...mostly just 'don't miss this'." The young forward laughs, wiping her brow. "No, really I wasn't thinking, I was just focused on what I was doing, everything went out of my mind. I couldn't afford to think about the game nearly over, the crowd screaming. You have to push that stuff to the side and get on with things."

"Well, you certainly seemed focused, that was a great finish! So, what's next for you? Are you going Pro for the new NWSL competition that's starting up? There's a lot more teams to play for."

"Maybe. I've given it some thought but not enough to say for definite what I'll be doing. It's a nice option to have, though."

"Last question before we let you go, you have the option to represent a number of Nations through your family line, The US, Canada, Scotland, England, any thoughts on who you would like to suit up for?"

"A few, but nothing I'd say on TV." The youngster laughs off the question.

"Thanks for your time, Logan. Once again, congrats on a big win!"

"Thank you."

__________

{ Logan }

I climb into my old, red, beat up truck, hitting the dash repeatedly when it fails to start.

"C'mon, you piece of shit!" With one last hit, the engine splutters to life. "Oh, thank fuck."

I begin my twenty minute drive home. Leaving behind the nice neighborhoods that surround campus, the boutiques and coffee shops, and I make my way to a rougher part of town. Stores with bars on the windows, homes with bars on the windows. Nobody has to look far to see a junkie using a needle, to see a gang on the corner. Ironically the one thing that you can't see in a neighborhood like this, is the police.

Anyone would feel unsafe in a place like this, where gunshots ring out through the night. Being from here, though, I don't feel unsafe. It feels like home, whatever 'home' is. If I'm being honest, I feel out of place at University, and in the nice, friendly neighborhoods around it.

I finally make it to my house, that I share with my mom, Susan, and my 9 year old brother, Kevin. Our home isn't attractive, respectable, or even safe - but it's home. I climb out of my truck and walk the few steps to the front door, unlocking it and walking through. The stench is always the same - vodka and cigarettes.

The cause of the smell is evident, my mother passed out on the couch, face down with a cigarette in her hand burning away. Sighing at my mom's behavior, I take the death stick from her fingers and put it out. With one last look to my guardian, I leave and look for my brother.

"Hey, kid." I speak gently, so as not to wake our mom, but also that I don't scare him. He leaps from his bed and wraps his small arms around my waist. "Are you okay?"

"Mom was drinking again." Kevin mumbles, looking at his feet. He's not wearing shoes and his socks have holes in them, desperately begging to be replaced, but we can't afford it. My mom uses all the money for cigarettes and booze, and I use my money to feed my younger brother.

"Have you ate?" I ask, hopeful as usual, but my stomach sinks when he shakes his head 'no', a tear threatening to spill from his eye. "Don't worry." I say, wiping his tears. "Let's go out for dinner. We'll go anywhere you like. Get ready, okay?" With a quick nod, he removes his embrace entirely, getting ready to go out.

I leave his room, and find my mom's purse on the table. I go through it, knowing today was the day she got her welfare, but my anger rises when I see not a single dollar in her purse. I dump the bag, and go to my own room, closing the door behind me. I go to the small desk in my room, pulling out the top drawer and grabbing the envelope taped to the bottom of it, where I hide my money from my kleptomaniac of a mother. Putting the drawer back, I leave my room and get Kevin, happy that he's finally getting food, we leave.

_______

"Thanks for dinner, Lo." Kevin says, hugging me as we step back into our house. We walk to his bedroom together, our mother still passed out on the couch.

"Anytime, kiddo. I'll always be here for you." I kiss the top of his head when he hugs me again.

"I'll always be here for you too, sis." I chuckle at the little man, an I.Q. higher than everyone I know put together, and I make sure he's ready for bed. "Goodnight, Lo."

"Goodnight, Kev."

I leave my brother's room, and venture back to the couch where my mom is, I grab the blanket from the chair and I cover her, making sure she's warm and I place the bucket from under the kitchen sink beside her, knowing she'll probably need it. I set a glass of water on the coffee table and I retreat to my bedroom.

Checking my phone before I go to bed, I notice a text from my Captain, Vicki.

From: CapnMartin

Heard a whisper that Seattle r wanting to offer me n u a contract if we pull out of the draft. Will mean u stay close to home. Think about it.

V

Seattle? Hm.

Going Pro isn't something that I've really thought about, to a serious level. I was always afraid that I'd be forced to play far from home, and that nobody would be here to take care of Kevin, cause our mom sure as hell doesn't. Now, though, if Seattle are interested, it gives me something to seriously consider.