Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
CHLOE
Saturday morning, the day of the state championship game, I wake up early, as usual. My team took a bus to the town that’s hosting the game, and since it was about a three-hour drive, we came the night before to get settled and check out the field.
Nerves have been doing bicycle kicks in my stomach for the past few days. I didn’t sleep well last night. I usually don’t in hotels, but something in the back of my mind tells me it’s not the game I’m concerned about. At least it’s not just the game.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m still thinking about Rhoads and how we left things. I can’t imagine him actually ignoring me, but other than the snow globes, he hasn’t reached out, so I don’t know what to think.
Then again, I haven’t exactly made an effort either.
Because what can I say that would excuse my behavior?
I can’t tell him I was starting to fall for him, despite my better judgment.
Seeing him with the girl at Peggy’s just reinforced what I thought I already knew about him.
Her wearing his jacket validated that spending time with him got my priorities twisted.
Still, my heart thinks it knows better. I close my eyes and picture the bookcase in my room where I lined up all the snow globes. For some reason, I can’t bear to let them live in a dusty pillowcase in the back of my closet. Looking at them makes happiness and sadness swirl together in my stomach.
I shove all that to the deepest part of me. Today is too important to be distracted. My teammates and I are feeling the same nerves. Their jaws are tight, eyes sharp. They’re focused, and I will be, too. I won’t let them down.
This is a big deal for our school. Our team has never won the state title in girls’ soccer.
We’ve gotten close many times over the years, but this is our chance to prove that we have what it takes to go all the way.
It’s my chance to prove that I can show up for my team in the biggest moments we’ve faced together.
My phone vibrates, and I laugh as the picture of my dad pops up on the screen to show he’s calling. In it, he’s got his face painted half blue and half yellow, and he’s grinning from ear to ear.
I go out into the hallway, so I don’t wake my still-sleeping teammates.
I press the accept button, and the video fills my screen. “Hi, Dad.”
“Morning, kiddo.”
“Hi, honey,” Mom says from next to him. They’re sitting together at the table for once.
“How you feeling?” Dad asks, taking a swig from the mug I painted for him when I was in preschool.
“Oh, you know, the usual,” I say. “Kind of like I swallowed a bucket full of creepy-crawlies.”
Mom and Dad both nod.
“Totally normal,” Mom says.
“Don’t worry about it. Just play your game and everything will work out fine. I’m sure once you step on the field, everything will sort itself out.”
“You’re going to do great, honey. Your dad and I will both be there to cheer you on.
We talked, and I’m going to step back a bit at work.
” They squeeze hands. “I’ve been training some people to run point, and they can handle tonight.
I want to be around for you more. Who knows where that athletic scholarship is going to take you? ”
The caterpillars crawl from my digestive tract out to my fingertips. “Really?”
“I’m sorry I’ve been distracted at your games over the years, Chloe. But I would never, ever miss this.”
Unexpected tears prick the corners of my eyes. It’s such a tender moment that I don’t know what to do with the emotion bubbling inside my head, lungs, and heart. I cough to dispel it, then look up, blinking back the tears. “Thanks, Mom.”
The door to my hotel room creaks open. Half of Janae’s dark brown face peeks out. I show her a thumbs-up to let her know I’m okay. She slides a piece of hotel stationery into the hallway.
Team breakfast downstairs in five.
I nod, and then the door closes.
“Thanks for calling. We’ve got breakfast in a few, so I’ve got to go. But I’ll look for you in the stands.”
“Don’t look too hard,” Dad says. “You’ve got to keep your eye on the ball.”
“Of course. See you later. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” they say together, then the video disconnects.
Maybe it’s uncool to admit that I genuinely like my parents, but I’m happy they’re coming to the game. Knowing they’ll be there to support me turns at least a few of the crawlies into cocoons.
* * *
After dinner that night, I slip into my uniform and throw on my team sweatpants and hoodie over the top.
Fall in mid-November is a special time for playing soccer.
Despite the cold, it’s one of my favorite times of year.
And also one of the saddest, because I know that this is the last game I will play with some of these girls.
The seniors are extra jittery tonight. This is a Big Moment for me, but it’s even bigger for them.
Because this is the last time they’ll wear a Cardinal Ridge uniform.
Many of them will play on club teams in the spring, and some of them even play on my team, so I’m thankful I’ll have at least one more season with them before we part ways.
Others will play for colleges or universities in the fall next year.
But for some, this is the end of their soccer careers.
I take stock of all my senior teammates as we gather outside the hotel with our gear and wait for the driver to pull the bus around.
“How you doing, Ji-woo?” I ask, walking over to her. She’s just redone her sleek black ponytail for the third time.
She blows out a breath. “Hey, Chloe. I’m okay. Nervous, but that’s normal, right?”
I nod. “Of course. The nerves will disappear as soon as we get to the pitch. It’s the waiting that always gets me.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“I heard you’re playing for Silver Lake next year. That’s exciting.” I flash her a huge smile.
The muscles in her forehead relax. “Yeah. It’s a D3 school, but that’s fine with me. I don’t need a big program. I just want to keep playing.”
“That’s amazing. Send me your schedule, and I’ll road trip with some of the team if we don’t overlap on game days.”
Her dark brown eyes light up. “Really?”
“Of course. Oh, bus is here. Let’s give ‘em heck tonight.”
Ji-woo beams. “They won’t know what hit them.” We do a little handshake before grabbing our stuff and getting in line.
On the bus on the way to the stadium, I sit with Janae, like I do for every other game.
Force of habit and maybe a bit of superstition.
Nobody wants to change what’s worked so far over this season.
One small thing could mean our season ends without a championship banner to hang on the gymnasium wall.
Janae tells me how she’s been talking to Dillon, Rhoads’s friend. I dodge questions about me and Rhoads and try to wiggle out of Janae’s suggestions that we need to double date already.
“That is not on my radar tonight. I’ve worked so hard this year, and I’m ready to see the fruits of my labor.”
Janae makes a psh a sound. “You got to do what’s best for you. And I will support you, even if it annoys the crap out of me.”
“And that’s part of the reason you’re such a good friend.” I laugh, and Janae and I take turns picking music to listen to, sharing one ear bud each, until we park at the stadium.
Then we each retreat into our own ear buds and pre-game rituals.
I cue up my pump-up pre-game playlist and jam out to the music, letting it wash away my nerves.
There’s no more time to be nervous. I need to focus.
Like my dad said. Get my head in the game and pull out the win.
Block out any and all other distractions.
Especially ones who like piano music and have deep brown eyes.
In the locker room, we settle in and swap our sneakers or sandals for cleats. No shoes have ever fit me better than these. And none have ever been through more Big Moments with me.
I jog out to the field with my team. Bright stadium lights flood the green grass. It’s been freshly mowed. Straight lines stripe the field, and the smell permeates the chilly night air. The first spectators start to make their way into the bleachers.
Teagan leads us through jogging and stretches. Then we move into our passing drills and finally shooting and defending drills. Offense doesn’t feel so scary to me anymore.
I try not to think about how Rhoads had everything to do with that. I force myself to pay attention to the field and not check the bleachers again. Charlotte, Anita, and my parents will arrive soon, if they haven’t already. But I’ll see them after.
A few minutes before the game starts, the student sections for each team begin their chants. Their voices blend into a mishmash that’s impossible to separate into discernible words.
I don’t focus on the chants themselves so much as the swell of love and support and competition they bring to the stadium. The way the sound relaxes my muscles just as much as warm-ups.
The referee calls over the captains, and Coach Dixon reminds us of the starting lineup he told us when we first arrived.
I’ll be in my usual position at left back.
And I’ll be defending against the giraffe of a girl who beat me back at the beginning of the season.
No mistakes tonight, I vow to myself. I will mark her as if my life depends on it.
And I will not let her even get one shot.
If I have to fling my body in front of the ball, that’s what I’ll do.
After warm-ups, we crowd together in the locker room around Coach Dixon. He clears his throat and claps his hands once, the sign that he’s ready to make his speech.
“Oh boy,” I say, rolling my eyes at Piper. “Here we go.” Coach Dixon is known for being unflappable. So, when he starts getting sentimental, his throat thick with emotion, I have to pinch myself to keep from reacting.
“I’ve coached a lot of great teams over the years, some of them even at Cardinal Ridge.
But this team right here, I think you may just be the most talented group of young women I’ve ever had the honor of coaching.
Whatever happens out on that field tonight is up to you.
You control the game. You decide the tempo.
You step up and make the big plays. Communicate, trust each other, and leave it all on the field.
You’ve worked hard this season. Win or lose, I’m so incredibly proud of you. ”
When coach Dixon finishes, there’s a single beat of silence before Bailey stands up and says, “That’s great, Coach, but we’re going to win.”
The whole team cheers and claps, hyping each other up.
This is the kind of energy I live for. This is part of the reason why I go all out for this team in every practice, at every game, and at six a.m. training sessions.
These girls are my family. I may not have siblings by blood, but I have seventeen sisters in this room with me right now.
And I love each of them with my whole heart.
Outside, we all take our positions, and the ref signals to start the game. The other team won the coin toss, so they get to kick off. The shrill tweet of the whistle fills my ears, and everything else goes silent, even though I know the crowd is screaming at the top of their lungs.
I am focused. I am here. I’m going to help my team win.
We battle for a full forty-five minutes.
Each team has a few shots. For my part, number ten doesn’t even get close.
Every time she touches the ball, I’m on her and stripping it away before she can even decide what move she wants to try.
Her fakes never work on me. And even though she’s learned a few tricks since our last meeting, I’m quick to adapt. I’ve learned a thing or two myself.
Her tells are as clear as if they’re inked on her jersey. As if she’s shouting exactly what she’s going to do before she does it, with the slight flick of her fingers or tilt of her head. There is nothing this girl can do to get by me. When the ref signals for halftime, the score is tied zero-zero.
Now that play has ended, I sneak a look at the stands.
The bleachers are packed. There’s no open seat anywhere, which makes me smile.
My parents are in the middle, halfway up, where my dad usually likes to sit.
Charlotte and Anita are in the student section like always, my constants.
And then a few people over I spot the boys’ soccer team.
All of them except Rhoads.
I bury the pang of disappointment so deep I’ll need an excavator to find it.
Coach Dixon gives a speech during halftime correcting some of the mistakes we’ve been making or areas of weakness. But overall, we’re playing great. We just need to find one opening, one well-timed shot. One brilliant pass.
One Big Moment that will change everything.