Chapter 21
Soccer Boy
RILEY
It’s so cold out my teeth are chattering as we take our seats, but at least it stopped raining. Thank god this is the last game of the season — after this I get to stay inside my dorm until spring comes — but for now, the t-shirt, hoodie, jersey combo I’m rocking just isn’t cutting it.
“How long are these games again?” I mutter to Josh. “Long enough to get hypothermia?”
“You say that like you aren’t bundled up like a newborn. I told you to bring a blanket too, but we all know you secretly wanted to show off that jersey. How are you going to last the postseason?”
He laughs at how wide my eyes go, because despite Elias talking about it incessantly, it never occurred to me I’d have to continue to sit out here in the cold.
“Fuck me.”
“I think he does that enough,” Josh teases, but it’s the girl standing behind him that steals my attention.
“Gross,” Juliana says with a chuckle. “I have a crazy imagination, please don’t make me picture that. Can we sit with you guys?”
Her friend is still eyeing me like she wants to be anywhere but near me, and I notice how intently she’s staring at Eli’s jersey. She’s jealous.
I nearly tell her that if she just waits a couple of weeks, she can have him, but my stomach squirms angrily at the thought.
Great, now we’re both jealous.
“Of course you can,” I say with a forced smile. I like her, I really do, but I’ve tried to keep our interactions to a minimum. I don’t want to hurt her too come New Year’s. “Have you been to all of his games?”
“All except one this season,” she admits, sitting to my right as Josh chuckles under his breath to my left.
“I had a date two weeks ago and missed one, but Elias was so dramatic about it. Our dad should be here today since it’s the last game of the season, but after that argument last night I don’t think he’ll come. I’m sure Elias told you.”
Frowning, I shake my head. “He didn’t, actually. What happened?”
The guys start taking their positions on the field as the stadium gets louder around us, making her lean in closer so only I can hear. “He wanted our dad to meet you.”
She rolls her eyes like she’s exhausted with the two of them, but all I heard is that her dad doesn’t want to know me. Why else would they fight about it? “Oh,” I mumble. “And your dad…?”
“He’s always been so adamant about no girlfriends during the season, so when Elias told him about you he went off about how distracted he’s been, how his last season in college was his worst one, how it’s his fault he won’t be picked up by a team, and blah blah.
” Whistles blow, people scream, and all I can think about is how Eli doesn’t care to play professional soccer.
He’s made that clear. “Papa just takes all the fun out of it when that’s all Elias wanted.
He plays to have fun, but you know how men are with their failed dreams.”
If only he knew how distracted Eli would’ve been if he’d gone through with hazing. Every time I see Samara, she’s got a new story for me. “I thought Eli did good this year.”
“He did!” she practically yells. “And I’ve been here watching almost every game, he hasn’t.
But last year Elias got a couple goals, which isn’t that common for his position, so I guess Papa expected him to keep doing amazing shit to stand out.
Oh shit…” She trails off when a red card is flashed and Luca gets ejected from the game.
Everyone is either booing or screaming as one of their guys gets back to his feet with a hand covering his eye, and Luca gets dragged off the field cussing up a storm.
I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him frown before this.
“Fuck, it’s about to be a physical ass game.
We’re down a player and it just started. ”
Yeah, I still don’t understand any of this. “It’s fine, they’ll be okay. They always are.”
“Yeah,” she responds, but she definitely sounds more distracted now as her eyes are glued to the field. “He’s talking shit again.”
Glancing down, I see Eli walking near the player that got Luca ejected, and his mouth is moving fast. I know him well enough to identify the taunting expression on his face, but don’t know enough Spanish to read his lips. I bet it’s good, though.
And I bet the sex after will be even better.
Grinning, I nudge Josh. “You like it when they fight, don’t you?”
“It’s my favorite,” he says a little too excitedly. “They don’t fight enough in this sport if you ask me, but they sure do whine enough.”
Juliana laughs as yet another player dives onto the ground and begs for a penalty the referee doesn’t give. “There’s no way he risks getting removed from the last game, but he might instigate enough to get someone else thrown out. He’s a little too good at getting under people’s skin.”
Yeah, you could say that. I’m supposed to turn that stupid article in tomorrow, and I’m so twisted up about it I couldn’t keep my breakfast down. He’s under my skin alright, and I hate it. “I wonder where he learned it.”
His sister’s gaze turns toward me, almost as if she’s trying to read my thoughts and see through the mask I’m trying to wear. “How have you two been?”
The other team scores before I get roped into responding, and when that same player bumps into Eli with a cocky grin, I see how hard it is for him to hold himself back.
The cords in his arms are visible from here as he clenches his fists, and whatever he says in response has the guy rounding on him in anger, but he jogs off to get into position with an expression that says he thinks he won.
He always thinks he won.
“We’re great,” I say quickly, then realize we’re supposed to break up in a couple of weeks. Maybe it isn’t the worst thing to start sowing the seeds now. “Well… good. We’re good.”
She frowns, but to my surprise she doesn’t push the issue any further.
Instead she reaches out to squeeze my hand in solidarity with her gaze on the field like it didn’t happen at all, and I take the out.
I’ve lied so much lately I think I’m starting to get pretty good at it, but that doesn’t mean I like it.
Instead, I focus on the way Elias moves. The grace, the coordination… he’s impressive.
Whoever has the ball consistently tries to avoid wherever he is, because getting past him is harder than finding another route, and when someone does try to take him on he seems to always manage to kick the ball out from under them.
This time he clears it halfway down the field, his gaze swiveling to meet mine like he’s proud of himself, and when he blows me a kiss I feel multiple people’s eyes turn toward me curiously.
Yeah, I’m curious too, friends. Specifically about why butterflies suddenly spawned in my chest.
Yikes. This isn’t the time for this.
I cheer a little louder than everyone else and then sink down, hoping no one sees the blush in my cheeks.
It’s hard to keep myself from looking at the girl next to me when I know she’s staring, and even harder to ignore Josh’s stupid laugh, but I manage to keep track of the game as the Vipers drive down the field and finally score in response.
Thank god.
Wait, when did I start caring about this? Took the whole season, I guess, but here I am. I’m on my feet with the rest of the fans screaming my frozen little head off, and when the first half comes to an end, the whole stadium is on edge right alongside me.
To pass the time we take a short walk near the field and talk about school and current political issues that only piss us all off, but when the teams jog back out we let all the bullshit go and allow ourselves to get excited again.
As we make our way back, I spot Eli walking over with his dimples on display, bringing that blush right back to my cheeks as I once again forget how fake this truly is. I really need to stop forgetting.
Josh gently pushes me toward the fence before I can pretend I don’t see him, and I feel a hundred pairs of eyes on my back as I meet him there.
“Hey, cupcake. Having fun?”
“I’m just impressed you guys haven’t frozen solid down there,” I laugh nervously. “You’re doing really well.”
“Thank you. Well enough that you want to kiss me? You look like you really want to kiss me.”
Do I? Fuck it.
“Maybe.” I barely have time to smirk before he’s gripping his jersey in his fist and tugging me impossibly closer, his lips crashing to mine as though we’re the only ones around, but the whistles and cheers that erupt behind me remind us that we are not.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care who is watching or the fact that I said I hate PDA. I did hate it, but for some strange reason I don’t hate it right now. Not when it’s his tongue dancing with mine.
Even after the kiss ends, he keeps his lips a mere inch from mine as he flashes me those infuriating dimples. “Knew it.” His thumb slides along my cheek as he places one more kiss on my forehead, but it’s the whispered, “mi cielo” that truly takes my breath away.
He’s gone before I even find it in me to blink, and I stand there like an idiot until Josh screams my name and snaps me out of it.
Yeah, I’m screwed.
Very screwed.
When I sit down again, he bumps me gently with his arm. “You’re so fucked.”
The second half kicks off a lot like the first. The guys shove at each other like they have something to prove, and they only grow more aggressive as the clock ticks on.
“People don’t normally get hurt playing soccer, do they?” I ask uselessly. Almost everyone in our vicinity turns around to side-eye me like that was the dumbest question I could’ve asked, but I find myself worried for him for the first time this season.
My fears are warranted when someone elbows him hard in the nose, his head whipping back as the whole crowd gets to their feet, and when no one calls a foul the anger around us is palpable.
Blood drips down those plump lips that were just on mine, and it takes everything I’ve got not to stomp my little ass onto that field and elbow the bitch back.
I fucking jinxed him.
“He’s fine,” Juliana says more to herself than anyone. “It’s not the first time he’s had a black eye and it won’t be the last.”
That’s not very comforting.
The game goes on as if one player isn’t currently spitting blood onto the grass, and Eli bounces back a lot faster than I do.
He’s got his eyes on the ball as mine follow only him, and it isn’t until Josh is tossing an arm over my shoulders that I realize everyone can see how worried I am. “Oh, babe. You’re done for.”
God damnit.
Exhaling hard, I close my eyes for a moment and try to reel it back in, but I can’t.
He’s right. If I really hated Elias for everything he’s done, I’d have been happy when he got hit.
It would’ve felt like karma. Instead, my chest tightened and all I wanted to do was go down there, hurt the guy who did it, and take care of him. “Hush. I’m fine.”
“Mmhm. So how much would you hate me if I went down there to check on Luca?”
Raising my eyebrows, I glance at him, thankful for the change of subject. “Something you want to tell me there?”
Biting back a grin, Josh shrugs. “Maybe you’re not the only one that’s fucked over a soccer player.”
Grabbing his hand, I squeeze gently. “I hope yours has a better ending than mine.”
It takes us both a second to realize what I said, and my attempts to blabber through an explanation are entirely drowned out by the crowd as Gomez scores for the Vipers again.
Number eleven slides along his knees in celebration as the team jumps all around him, and Josh hugs me tightly before disappearing.
Which leaves me up here with my not-future not-sister-in-law and her weird, jealous friend. Maybe I should’ve gone with him.
But the game moves so quickly after that it’s hard to focus on anything but the ball and my bleeding future ex boyfriend.
There are so many “almost” scores I’m practically shaking with anxiety, and when another penalty on Eli puts them in a scoring position I find myself squeezing the life out of Juliana’s hand. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” she repeats under her breath, a scream ripping from her throat when they miss the shot.
Thank fuck.
It’s a relief for more than one reason when I hear the three whistles stop the game. They won, and while I now remember this is far from the end of their season, at least we’re close.
We’re close to a lot of things, actually, and fucked or not… I have an article to turn in tonight.
I guess I’ll flip a coin.