Chapter Twenty-Five
~HENDRIX~
The away crowd was loud, but the field felt louder. The cleats clicking on the sidelines, shouts echoing across the pitch and the thump of the ball traveling across the ground. Gotham’s stadium always had electric, slightly hostile energy that I feed off of.
“Hey, Hen!” Cassie calls as she jogs back into her position with the backs. “Tell me you saw that defender trip over her own feet.”
I smirk. “I saw it. I’m choosing to believe that she was shitting her pants when I came out of the box to steal that ball from her.”
“Pure intimidation, huh?” Cassie asks me. “Your resting bitch face scares her that bad, huh?”
“My resting bitch face and imposing stance are our secret weapons,” I say, grinning at her.
“Your resting face could be called a felony sometimes,” she says, agreeing with me.
The ref blows a whistle and signals that it’s a Blaze throw-in.
It’ll be Cassie’s throw-in. I watch as she wipes her palms on her shorts before picking up the ball.
From the sideline, a Gotham fan yells, “Hey, eight, you dropped something! Your first touch.”
“Shut up,” Cassie mutters under her breath.
Cassie just shakes her head and focuses on finding Mac down the line. She connects with her instantly and Mac flicks it back with a little heel tap that makes absolutely no tactical sense.
“Mac,” I ask her, flatly, “what was that?”
“Flair,” she calls sweetly before turning and burning up the field.
Gotham allowed just enough space for her to make that move before closing in on her.
Like Gotham players enjoy toying with her, lulling her into a fake sense of security before pouncing on her and trying to get the ball off of her foot.
Cassie jumps back into the formation so that she can run up there and be ready should her offensive pressure be needed.
I sit back in my box, waiting for some action to come my way. Hopefully, by the time it does, we’ve got a Blaze goal under our belt to cushion the lead.
A Gotham midfielder closes in on Mac, and she darts forward, making sure to avoid the slight jabs that the player is throwing to try and force Mac off her game. Mac pulls back a bit and manages to make her stumble.
“Oooh!” the Blaze bench hollers.
I grin, watching them cheer for Mac as she takes the ball all the way to the goal.
“I love how she plays with them,” I say to no one, but it earns me a turn and a grin from Dana and Elyssa, who are playing the center back positions.
“You’re so mean,” Dana calls back to me.
I roll my eyes but smile at her all the same.
If she thinks that’s mean, she hasn’t seen anything yet.
The offenders fall at my feet or almost come running straight into me and I swiftly pick up the ball, taking away any chance of a goal.
I hope I get the chance to do that to a few Gotham players today. Just as long as I’m quicker.
I pull my rolled purple shorts down a bit, biting my lip, waiting and watching for that ball to find the back of the other net.
Cassie and Mac are pushing up the field, in the box, together.
Cassie lightly chips the ball forward, Mac sprints after it.
A Gotham player comes up and slams into the side of Mac, sending her flying.
She tries her darndest to stay on her feet, but they push off of her, and she stumbles a bit before landing on her back.
The whistle doesn’t blow. The ball rolls harmlessly out of bounds.
“Are you kidding me?” I say, shaking my head.
“I’m fine!” I hear Mac call to Coach Watts. His face is bright red and he’s yelling at the ref to call something.
“Yeah, call something, anything!” I say to the other girls on defense. I earn a few more smiles but we’re in Gotham; we don’t always get calls on the road and the Gotham players are notorious for playing dirty. They usually get away with it.
Mac turns and give the rest of the field a thumbs up. The ball is given to Gotham, cutting off Mac’s chances at a goal. But she’s okay and that’s all that matters right now.
Gotham has possession near the midfield, their winger cutting inside with a little too much swagger for my taste. I track her step for step, waiting for the moment that she would attempt to strike.
The winger flicks the ball behind her leg slowly, an unnecessary move that is more performative than practical.
I watch her, raising my eyebrows. “Cute.”
The winger smirks at me as she gets closer. “You like that?”
“I’ve seen some U-12s do it cleaner.”
“Ouch,” she says with a chuckle, advancing slowly towards me. The defense is now hanging back a bit as I advance forward, hoping to stop her before she fires.
“Are you always this grumpy?” she asks me, dribbling left to attempt to throw me off my game.
“Only when I’m bored. Come on, take a shot,” I challenge her. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“Oh, so I’m boring you? Here I thought I was giving you some much-needed action that you haven’t seen yet.”
I grin at her. She’s not wrong; they haven’t gotten a chance to fire any shots at me yet. At least none that are this close.
I advance forward, cutting her angle and watching to see if she moves to shoot the ball. I keep on coming, hoping to push her off the ball.
It doesn’t work.
She shoots and it comes right into my hands. I snatch it up, clutching it tightly.
“Yeah, I’m a little bored,” I tell her, grinning as I move to the other corner of my box. I wait and watch for my teammates to get into position before I punt the ball down the field.
“You know that trash talk only works if you’re winning,” a Gotham player calls from just outside my box.
“We are,” I tell her with a cocky smile on my face.
“It’s zero-zero,” she points out, her voice dripping with attitude.
“Not for long,” I say as I watch my team charging up the field with possession of the ball.
“Hendrix, stop playing with them and focus on the field,” I hear Jase call to me.
I shake my head but send him a thumbs up. “But I’m not bullying, I’m educating.”
Dana hears this and turns around, chuckling. “I like it, Hendrix, keep on getting in their heads.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” I call up to her.
“Everybody in the defense needs to focus right now!” Coach Jase yells at us.
He hates it when I talk to the defense and trash-talk the players. It knocks them off their game and forces them to make a mistake. Just like the shot that the player tried to fire at me. Didn’t work; I was able to save it.
I nod in his direction, hoping that he sees me. I stay in my box, watching the offense playing with Gotham’s defense. Mac gets a shot off but, unfortunately, it’s caught by the Gotham keeper. She’s good, I’ll give her that. With the speed Mac fired that ball, I’m not sure I would have caught it.
A few plays later, the same winger who shot on me before is running back towards me. She’s bold or stupid for charging on me so quickly. I’m not sure which.
She’s stupid.
Very stupid, I decide, when I see her shooting the ball from too far out and with not enough power on it.
The ball rolls to a stop right in front of me. It didn’t even have enough power to make it near the goal. I trap it between my feet and flick it with my toe, causing the ball to pop up into the air. I catch it.
I watch her carefully and ask her, “Really?”
The forward shrugs. “I had to try.”
“You shouldn’t have. You didn’t have the shot,” I say with a grin.
I punt the ball up the field, watching and waiting for the Blaze players to regain position of the ball. Thankfully, they do.
From the Gotham bench, I hear someone shout, “Stop letting them embarrass you!”
The forward whose shots I keep catching calls, “I’m trying.”
She can’t hear but I talk to her anyway, “You’re doing great, sweetheart.” I say, my tone thick with sarcasm.
It earns me a grin from some of my defenders. “You’re so funny,” Dana calls to me.
“Thanks!”
My happiness is short-lived as Gotham pushes up the field again. That same fucking forward is charging down the right side with way too much confidence for someone who’d already been shut down twice. I step forward in my box, gloves flexing, eyes locked on the ball.
The forward looks up and smirks. “I’m going to get you back for earlier!”
I just shake my head. “You can certainly keep on trying.”
The forward cuts inside, trying to cut a shot towards the far post. But I read it early, grabbing it swiftly and smothering the ball against my chest.
The crowd roars.
The Blaze bench roars.
The forward throws her hands up. “Seriously!”
I toss the ball to Dana, letting her dribble it up and fire it towards the offense. “Time to pick a new hobby.”
Elyssa, who is hanging back to make sure that I’m covered, laughs. The ball is launched up field. And suddenly the Blaze are off the counter.
Mac sprints off into space like she’d been shot out of a cannon.
“Go, Mac, go!” I call from my position at the goal.
“I’ve got a shot, pass it, pass it!” Kelsey, one of our forwards, yells.
Mac ignores everyone who is cheering or shouting instructions at her. She destroys the defense, from what I can see from my view the field. She hammers the ball into the top corner like she’s trying to break the net.
The crowd explodes into cheers.
The Blaze bench is going crazy.
Mac turns around and yells, “Let’s go!” as she rushes towards the rest of the offense, who are grabbing her up in hugs.
“Way to go, Mac!” I hear Amelia call from the bench, where she’s been forced to watch the games from since her injury.
I jog up from my box. I can’t wait to hug her!
Mac meets me halfway and jumps into my arms. I hug her so tightly.
“I’m so fucking proud of you!” I scream.
Cassie comes over, yelling, “You are amazing!”
“Get in here!” Mac holds her arm out, motioning for her to join us.
Cassie joins our hug and before long, the rest of the team joins us. And I’m caught in a big group hug.
On my way back to the goalie box, the Gotham forward jogs past me, shaking her head.
“You’re insane.”
I shrug. “We defend pretty goals.”
“And celebrate like a bunch of toddlers.”
“Toddlers who win games,” I shoot back.
“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head.
“Thanks,” I reply, jogging back to my box.
By the time the final whistle blows, we’ve won.
I’m sweaty, breathless, and smell like a winner. I feel lighter than I have in weeks. The moment the locker room doors swing shut behind me, the noise explodes.
Mac bursts in first, arms raised like she just won the lottery. “We own Gotham! We own this city!”
“You don’t even live here,” Kelsey reminds her as she passes.
Mac struts around beside me, still buzzing. “Did you SEE that finish? I’m incredible.”
“You’re unbearable,” I say, rolling my eyes at her, but not really meaning it.
“Unbearably talented,” Mac corrects me.
“Cassie points at me. “And YOU! Miss pick a new hobby. You were a savage today!”
I shrug. “She started it.”
Cassie flicks water at me. “You love starting it.”
Before I can respond, music begins blaring loudly from the speaker behind me. It’s loud, chaotic, and way too much bass. Half the team immediately starts dancing like they hadn’t just run themselves into the ground.
Mac grabs me by the wrist. “Come on, Hen! Let’s celebrate this win!”
“I’m sitting for right now,” I reply.
“You should party with us,” Mac says, dancing around.
“I kept a clean sheet,” I say to myself, smiling, not realizing how much I needed this based on how the last game ended. A smile spreads across my face.
Mac flops down beside me. “Good game, Hen.”
I nudge her shoulder. “You too.”
“You’re delightfully evil,” Mac replies, grinning at me.
“Strategically evil,” Cassie adds from the other side of the bench.
For the first time in a while, I feel weightless.
Like the world wasn’t pressing down on me because I blew a big game.
Like I’m exactly where I belong.