Match

8: On Even Grounds

Jonah:

C u at the match tomorrow. :)

The message has plagued Cole's mind ever since he sent it yesterday. On the outside he played it casual and sent back a 'yeah see ya'. On the inside, though, butterflies were attacking his stomach in riling anxiety. Why? Why is it so hard for me to ask this guy to hang out, even when he's the one who offered? He seems like a nice guy. Right? But what about when he's on the field? Thoughts buzz about sharing a common trait: 'what if?'.

Nonetheless, the game is in a few hours. Luckily for him, today's his day off. Cole sits at his desk browsing through final exam marks for the tenth time within the hour. He knows he passed all his classes, he knows he's qualified to register in another month. But it's not his studies he's worried about, it's the match. He tries whatever he can to keep his mind distracted, even if it's turning up fruitless. He sighs and opens a new tab, then searches up 'cute animal video compilations'. When in doubt, watch something cute to calm your nerves.

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"How accurate for Team Thunder to have piss yellow jerseys," Joel mutters to Ashton.

Ashton laughs. "During first year, my team got shit brown. So when we went up against the team who had the yellow jerseys, the entire match was a laughing stock."

"Dude, so if a player stole the ball from ya you'd go 'aw piss'!"

He shoots a finger-gun at him and chuckles. "And when it's the opposite team it would be 'aw shit!'."

They both laugh aloud until the coach interrupts them with an 'ahem'.

"Boys," he jokes, "it's soccer time. Not 'shit-and-piss' day."

Joel waves an arm in the air and bends forward to try and touch his toes like everyone else. Cole shakes his head, not entirely surprised Ashton would chime in with Joel's sense of humour. Even with Daniel and Rubin, he's used to weird topics being brought up. Things like how beneficial it would be to have three arms for 'maximum enjoyment', or how it'd feel to get down with a ghost if it was possible. He'd be guilty to admit his philosophical side sometimes became a killjoy from joking around to just being plain confused.

"Cole," Coach Ryan snaps him out of his trance. "I'm putting you on the field first."

"Uh?" His eyes widen.

"Do you wanna try as a striker?"

"A striker?" The word fumbles around his head in familiarity, yet can't pin down what it is exactly.

"Yeah man," Nathan says. "They're like forwards, except they get a better chance at scoring goals."

Cole feels like a pit dropped into his stomach at that moment. I have to try and score?

"Wanna give it a try?"

"Uh," he tries playing it off like it's not a big deal. "I mean, sure. I guess."

"You don't have to if you don't feel like it," Kacey butts in.

"No, it's cool. I'll give it a try."

"That's the spirit." Coach Ryan says, patting Cole's shoulder. He then turns to everybody else and says, "alright gang! Work on some practice shots at the goalie until the game starts."

Everyone picks up a ball and walks to the net. Cole glances at Team Thunder as he strolls along. The grey clouded sky makes their jerseys gleam brightly, like glow sticks with legs, walking on a field. His eyes stop at Jonah, who's kicking a ball back and forth with one of his teammates.