Match

3: Life At Home

Cole lays on a couch splayed out like a cat. His long figure makes his body take up a good portion of the cushions. He's at his home - a two-storey apartment building that his older sister owns. He lives with a roommate in one of the suites.

It's Friday evening, the day before the very first game. Cole feels his stomach twisting in knotted anxiety. He tries to relax his face, letting his distracted eyes scan the room. His side is lined with posters of various rock bands and planets. On his roommate's side, it's a jam-packed shelf with manga books and anime figurines. A large sign above a desk beside the shelf reads 'HAYDEN'S THINK TANK' in bold lettering. He laughs to himself. He's seen that sign hundreds of times, ever since his roommate Hayden put it up when they first moved in, yet it's still funny to him. Hayden's also a liberal arts major, yet when you look at his bedroom space, you wouldn't think of that at all. Cole thinks to himself, Hayden should be home soon. Then we can walk to a nearby fast food restaurant for some grub.

He twiddles his thumbs in his lap as his mind shifts to what kind of burger he wants to eat. All of a sudden his phone goes off. The vibration makes the phone slide along the surface of the table. He manages to sit up and catch it, then checks its screen. His mom is calling. He looks at the clock for a second as it reads 8:04pm. It's like 11pm over there, why is she calling at a time she'd be fast asleep? He presses the green button then holds the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

An enthusiastic voice answers. "Hi sweetie!"

Cole rubs the back of his head. "Mom why're you calling so late?"

"Oh," she says. "Am I not allowed to check in on my son around the clock?"

Cole lets out a long, exhausted sigh, to which she laughs.

"I'm just kidding you, honey. I wanted to know how your first week of soccer practice went."

He ponders for a moment on the last few days. Yesterday he practiced with his new friend Nathan. He tried to show him how to head-butt a ball, to which he got a minor headache from smacking his forehead a couple times. Then there was the scrimmage on the first day. He feels that familiar embarrassment come crawling back. He doesn't realize he's been quiet on the line for a while.

"Cole?"

"Oh, uh," Cole says. "Sorry. Yeah, it's been... good. My, first game is tomorrow."

"Oh really?"

He hears some shuffling on the other line for a second as his mom moves her phone to her other ear.

"Yeah," he says.

"How do you feel about it?"

"Honestly..." he trails off as he tries to search for the right words. "I mean, the team I'm with are really nice. But I don't wanna mess up the first game for them."

"Hey," she stops him. "You'll do fine. Okay? Nobody's good in the beginning."

Cole rolls his eyes in a playful matter. "Gee thanks, mom."

"You know what I mean, dear," she laughs. "I didn't start off well when I began my career as a yoga instructor."

The air feels still, as Cole's unsure how to respond to that. Cole feels the awkward tension rise, and starts running a hand through his hair. His mom breaks the silence.

"I want to come see you play at one of the games."

His eyes widen.

"Mom, don't waste a plane ticket just to come to one of my matches," he says, rolling his eyes. "Also, it's kind of embarrassing for a parent to watch their twenty year old son play soccer."