Spark

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Zia

The “Summer Cup” is a huge tradition at my high school. On the last day before summer vacation, the boys and the girls compete in a game of soccer to win the “Summer Cup,” a plastic trophy from the Dollar Store. What really makes it worth winning is that the team that wins gets bragging rights for the whole following year. Last year, the girls lost, and Emmett would not let me forget it. I am determined not to go through that torture next year. All soccer season, I coached the girls. We are beyond prepared— the boys won’t know what hit them.

At home, I put on our hot pink team jersey with glittered lettering, spelling out Kastellanos (my last name). I’m number 22. I pull on black shorts, neon purple socks, shin guards, and my lucky cleats. Then I look in the mirror and sigh. I stare at my bag of makeup in the corner of my vanity. I put on on a minimal amount of eyeshadow and mascara. Standing back and looking at my reflection, I am ready to kick some serious butt.

———

The score is 4-3 with five minutes on the clock. Emmett smirks at me. I stick my tongue out at him. I glance at Camille in the bleachers. She is blowing bubbles with her gum and examining her “start of summer manicure.” I look back at the field and focus. I breathe in and out slowly, taking in the players around me in my offensive position. The soccer ball is in the center of the field, and our team is kicking, me specifically. It’s just me and the ball now.

You can do this, Z.

The whistle sounds.

———

Those five minutes go by in a blur. Next thing I know, I’m being carried on my teammates shoulders, holding the summer cup over my head. We tied with two minutes left, and in the last five seconds, I scored the winning goal.

The girls put me down and carry the drink cooler over. They pop the top open and spill the contents on my head. Unfortunately, we had all decided on Fierce Strawberry Gatorade, not water. The Gatorade feels good, though, wiping me clean of the sweat accumulated during the game. We all laugh and scream with joy. I glance at the moping boys team and see Emmett. I break away from my group and jog over to him.

“So how does it feel to lose to a bunch of girls?” I tease.

“That’s not entirely true,” he says, “I lost to a bunch of girls and a pink alien.” He looks at the Gatorade covering me.

“Shut up!” I punch him lightly on the arm.

“Come on, Zia. You’re like a human popsicle. Do you really expect me to not comment on it?”

“The point is that the girls won, and now I get to hold it over your head for an entire year.” I smirk.

“That is true. I must say, you were a very worthy opponent, Kastellanos.” Emmett holds out his hand, and I shake it.

“And you Dawson, were a very inferior opponent.”

“And so the year-long torture begins.”