Bitter

sixteen - cal

The ball sailed effortlessly past Marco's head with a swoosh, right into the goal. Jason whooped and clapped me on the back, then jogged over to retrieve the ball from Marco who threw it out of the net. "Were you even trying?" Jason asked, kicking the ball back to me.

   "Oh, my bad," Marco said sarcastically. "I didn't know I played on the school's soccer team with you guys." He switched spots with Zach who had been standing off on the side, observing Jason and me practicing.

   Jason chuckled and took my place. "You wish you could be on it," he teased, eyeing the soccer ball in front of his feet. With one last look, he brought his foot back and kicked it with enough force that it flew in the air a good amount of feet off the ground. Zach had been shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, so he was a little late on intercepting the ball.

   The ball zipped by Zach way too easily and he cursed. This made all of us laugh and decide on taking a break, heading for the bench not too far away. I took a swig of water from my water bottle and studied both Zach and Marco. No one had brought up anything about lunch on Friday. I hadn't really seen Zach or Marco yesterday, mostly because I had a game against another high school (we won by the way) and was too tired to confront them.

   Zach poured his water all over himself, droplets falling off his short, blond hair, despite the fact that it wasn't even hot out and none of us were sweating. He started talking about Aly (who was a good friend of his) and how he was going to homecoming with her. The conversation somehow jumped from that to Marco locking himself out of his house yesterday, then Meg and I briefly became the subject of discussion. After that, Jason told us how his parents were going to be out of town next weekend and was going to have a party. Too bad it was going to be cold. Good thing his pool was heated.

   We all went back over to the soccer goal, the four of us and a few other people the only ones at the park. I jogged over to stand behind the ball once again and Marco assumed his position as goalie. Zach and Jason watched. Stepping back, I mustered up the strength to kick. As soon as my shoe collided with the ball and sent it hurtling through the air, Haley's face flashed in my mind and I couldn't get rid of him. Marco had successfully blocked the ball, but I wasn't really paying attention to that. They were all laughing about something and I should've been too. I should've been, but I couldn't when Haley was all I was thinking about.

   "Why were you guys with West?" I blurted, watching the laughter flicker out of each of them. They were all looking at me now and I noticed Jason avert his eyes real quick. "On Friday," I clarified.

   Zach shrugged and looked to Marco. "I don't know, dude. He seems cool," he said. There was a small, pocket of silence where they all kind of glanced at each other. "What, do you not want us hanging out with him?" Zach questioned, switching with Marco while I moved to the side to allow Jason to kick.

   "We can all have different friends, you know," Marco contended from beside the goal.

   "Yeah, yeah, I know," I argued. Zach kicked, the ball flew, Jason blocked. "I just..." I didn't know how to continue. "I knew West at Landon and he isn't a good guy," was all I could manage.

   Marco was eyeing me with intense concentration, like I was an explosive sitting dangerously close to a small flame. He wouldn't stop staring at me as we all alternated positions again. His eyes narrowed. "And you are?"

   Zach chimed in after a moment of hesitation, as if he'd been thinking. "Yeah, Cal, since when did you start caring about being 'good'?"

   I was now in front of the ball once again, sun beating down on my back while I focused on my aim. I didn't have much room to talk and I'd waited too long to respond. I guess I could've brought up Haley and his switchblade in second grade since Zach and Marco had been in a different class. But, did it even matter anymore after so many years? Jason wasn't backing me up. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing.

   Marco was glaring at me from in front of the goal, taking quick steps to warm up, preparing to jump if he had to. He took advantage of my silence, snorting out a laugh. "You like, really care that much when we just want to hang out with someone else?" I could hear him, but I was choosing not to listen. "You need to calm down, bro. It's like you have some weird problem with wanting to control us or something," he muttered. I kept my gaze trained on the ball.

Taking a breath, I could feel my heart starting to beat faster. "I'm not trying to control you guys," I countered, "I'm just letting you know West is out to get me—"

"Exactly," Marco exclaimed as Jason and Zach watched us, staying out of the path of the volcano that would eventually erupt. "You. West is out to get you. And you don't want us to hang out with him because you have something against him," Marco protested coldly.

"That's not what I'm saying and you know that, Marco," I snapped, suddenly feeling the heat from the sun burning my face. I envisioned the ball flying in the air, towards the goal. I focused, finally got my foot ready for the kick, and looked up to see Marco's scowl.

"I don't know, it kinda sounds like you're dragging us into something," Marco raved. "Just forget about him already. You knew him at Landon. Big deal."

"I'm not dragging anyone into anything," I retorted, eyes narrowing.

"Sure sounds like it."

"Well, I thought you guys would be on my side."

Zach interjected, tentatively raising his hand. "I'm on your side."

All Marco and I could see were each other, everything around us blurry and faded away. Marco looked like he was going to charge at me like a bull, but he stayed where he was, guarding the goal with determination. I was just about ready to hit the ball into oblivion. "I can see why that Lydia girl doesn't like you now," he jeered, daring to say more. "Y'know, just because your parents hate you doesn't mean we're supposed to feel bad for you and—"

The soccer ball, with a smack, collided solidly with Marco's taunting expression. He instantly collapsed to the ground with a grunt, one hand over his nose. "Whoa, dude, are you alright?" Zach asked, walking cautiously towards him. I stayed in place, until I saw blood dripping into the dewy grass from somewhere on Marco's face. All the anger that had been pent up inside me released at once.

I took a step forward, never taking my eyes off the red running from Marco's nose. "Sorry," I blurted, like my mouth had been repelled by the word. I meant it (I hadn't been planning on hitting Marco, but I guess I had kicked the ball too hard and too close). Marco definitely didn't take my apology too well because he was glowering at me from the ground, Zach and Jason both already at his side. "I didn't mean—"

"Go away," Marco demanded, turning to spit crimson blood into the grass.

I ignored him and continued to walk toward him. I found myself pleading for him to understand. "Marco, I really didn't mean—"

"I said go away," Marco warned, and I paused. We were in another silent stare down, and as I looked to Zach and Jason, I realized the game was over. It had all gone so wrong so fast. I clearly wasn't wanted there anymore. Whatever. I didn't care. Shaking my head, I mumbled a "fine", whirled around, and began marching my way back out of the park as the wind started to pick up.