Olivia Charles is an apprehensive, quiet girl who tries to do everything right. She has low confidence and low self esteem. Getting teased daily by her peers doesn't help.
Liam Maines is Chestington Highs ultimate bad boy who parties, sleeps with g...
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Friday
Tournament day.
Coach woke us up mega early and the team hauled ass to the pitch for warm ups. Mist floated a few inches above the ground as the cold night air meshed with the warmth of the rising sun. Adrenaline was running high for everyone, deepened considerably when the other teams bus pulled up and they entered the turf sporting their dark green jerseys.
I watched the atmosphere drop by a few degrees as the players from both teams sized each other up oozing with competitiveness. Our coach exchanged words with their coach and before long a whistle was blown to signal warm ups. Both teams broke off into separate corners of the pitch and began performing stretches and huddles.
The bleachers started to fill with supporters for the other team since we were on their home turf. I blew a warm gust of breath into my palms, visibly seeing the white mist travel through the air in the cool temperatures. Rubbing my hands together to regain some warmth as I sat on the sidelines anticipating kick off.
The ear piercing whistle blew again and each team member lined up parallel to face each other. My eyes were drawn to Liam and I instantly felt sorry for his opponent because he was on the receiving end of one of Liams famous death glares. The face he wears most often, the emotionless, soulless, cold, impassive, hard face. The intense glint in his eyes was enough to throw anyone off leaving them intimidated completely defenseless. But not me. I had received that look so many times the effect of it had worn thin. I now realized it was only a front Liam put on to mask what he was really feeling and I was getting pretty good at looking beyond that glare and getting to the bottom of the sheltered emotions.
Green jersey out stretched his arm to initiate a hand shake and Liam reciprocated the motion with the smallest, most forced hand shake known to man. The whistle blew for the last time signaling kick off.
The crowd came alive with a roar of cheers and chants, encouraging the other team and as a blur of reds and greens spread out across the pitch I thought about how hard it must be to play a game in front of a crowd that is betting against you.
Jordan tackled a really tall green jersey and chased the ball down the pitch with two green players trailing close by, he was fast and seemed to preserve complete control over the ball. The two green jerseys caught up, threatening to take the ball away as Joe called to him from across the pitch, Jordan glanced his way nodded and then scratched his nose. Defending members of the opposite team flooded the surrounding area behind Joe in preparation to get the ball back. A sly smile stretched across Jordans face as he kicked the ball in the opposite direction towards Liam. Who was ready to receive, unguarded as if he knew exactly what the plan was all along. With full force Liams cleats connected with the ball and shot it right in the back of the net.
Disapproval was loud from all areas of the bleachers but our cheerleaders stood pitch side throwing shade to the other team through clever rhyming words.
