Chapter 4
The next morning, we rode to school in silence, except for Carly Simon’s Let The River Run coming through the stereo. When we arrived, Amy parked along the soccer field as usual.
“Thanks a lot. I have to park at the back of the lot because you made me late again,” Amy jeered.
“Actually, you should be thanking me because it means you get to walk past the soccer field later, right?” I said, as I gave her a mocking smile.
“Whatever, it was just a joke, none of those guys will ever notice either of us anyway. Get your bags, we’re going to be tardy if we don’t run,” Amy said, as we both slammed the doors and took off towards the Upper School building.
I ran down the sidewalk with my arms across my chest, trying to minimize the bouncing.
I didn’t want the entire school staring at me as I ran past the windows of their classrooms while they were settling into their desks before the bell rang.
The last thing I needed was to make a scene, and walking into the room last was bad enough.
I still needed to swing by my locker to pick up my books for the first three classes because I wouldn’t have time to grab them after the bell rang.
The doors were finally in sight, and I pulled them open to the hall of lockers.
I found locker 317, spun the code quickly, and lifted the latch to open it.
Out fell a tightly folded note onto the floor.
Who would be leaving me a note? I reached down to grab it, shoved it in my jeans pocket, got the books I needed, and slammed the door shut. Off to class, I ran.
When I arrived at my first class, the door was still open, so I entered the room, found a seat in the back, and sat down.
The teacher hadn’t arrived yet. Phew. When I was pulling my books out of my bag, I remembered the note.
I felt for it and reached into my tight jeans pocket.
What I pulled out was shaped like a white triangle, neatly folded with the ends tucked in.
There was nothing written on the outside to say who it was from.
I had seen notes like this exchanged between other kids at school, but I had no idea how to fold them or why they took the time. I unfolded it.
I waited for you this morning at your locker, but I had to go. Come to the soccer field after school. I’ve got your hoodie -Chris.
“What is that, Allie?” Mr. Hurst asked when he saw me reading the note before I tossed it in my bag.
“Just a note about my hoodie that someone wants to return. Sorry for interrupting, it won’t happen again.” Mr. Hurst bought it. Good thing that note didn’t say anything weird in case he had taken it from me.
When the bell rang, I bolted out of my seat and to my next class, making every effort not to make eye contact with anything other than the floor.
The risk of seeing Chris and not knowing how to act was too great.
After my third class, I had to go back to my locker to swap books, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the note or what he might say to me later.
At my locker, I spun the lock again, but this time I was relieved to see that there was nothing new inside.
I got what I needed for the rest of the day and moved on.
By the time the lunch bell rang, I was starving but couldn’t stop thinking about how the afternoon would go.
In the cafeteria, I made my usual salad and sat down at a table outside with people I only half liked, so I wouldn’t have to make anything bigger than small talk.
That’s when I saw him. He came in with a few of his teammates, grabbed his food, and walked outside to sit on the steps with them.
Was that where he always ate? I never noticed before because I didn’t know who he was until yesterday.
I watched as they talked and laughed, and I pretended not to notice whenever he looked in my direction.
The day dragged on until the final bell rang at 2:40, which startled me out of our boring American History lecture.
I needed to get to my locker to collect tonight’s homework, but I was also anxious to get to the soccer field to meet Chris, and then get to my own practice.
It was a rush for time. I made it to my locker, grabbed everything I needed for the night, slammed the door, and fought my way through the crowd of kids, all also trying to leave as quickly as I.
Once outside, I took off running for the soccer field, checking my watch every few steps.
It was already 2:55, practice started at 3:15, and I still needed to get changed.
If I were late, I would never hear the end of it from Coach.
By the time I made it up to the field, his team was starting to arrive from their own locker room for practice.
How did they get there so fast? Chris saw me and walked my way as the nerves set in and my palms got sweaty.
“What took you so long, Superstar? Practice is starting, so we’ll have to do this later,” he said calmly.
“Superstar? Hilarious. Our practice is starting, too, so I really need to go,” I said, as I glanced down to the lower field hockey field to see some of my teammates emerge from the locker room. “Can you just give it to me now?” I asked, trying to hide my nerves.
“My bag is on the other side of the field. Tell you what, when we go for our run, I’ll grab it and leave it on your bag. What color is it?”
“Fine,” I said, too annoyed to argue because I really had to go. “It’s the dark green Adidas bag. I’ll leave it behind the bench.” I said without giving him a chance to reply, then I turned around and took off towards the locker room at a full sprint. I couldn’t be late.
“See ya, Superstar!” he yelled after me.
As I ran, I quickly looked over my shoulder, annoyed when I heard some of his teammates mock him faintly with the same, ‘See ya, Superstar!’ Chris was laughing at their jeering, as he juggled a ball on his knee, but was still looking in my direction.
Once down at the gym, I crashed through the locker room door and got dressed as fast as I could.
I never wanted the coach to beat me onto the field.
With my cleats still untied, I threw my bag over my shoulder, grabbed my stick, tapped the top of the door frame, and pushed the door open to the field.
Everyone was already warming up, so I sat down on the bench, tied my cleats quickly, grabbed a ball, and headed out onto the field.
Just then, Coach DeLaney walked out of the locker room and blew her whistle.
“Alright, ladies, bring it in,” she shouted. “Next week’s game is against one of our biggest rivals, St. Margaret’s, so let’s get focused.” She rattled off everyone’s positions, then we brought it in for a cheer. “Let’s get going,” she said, then she blasted the whistle, and we took off.
The entire practice was intense with nonstop drills and scrimmages to run scenarios and prepare for everything we knew about the other team. Every whistle blow was a chance to be aggressive and achieve perfection with strong drives, good stick work, and beating the other team to the ball.
“Hey, Allie, look who it is!” Isabelle teased. I looked up from a penalty shot to see the soccer team running by. “Looks like he left something for you,” she said, motioning towards the bench.
“Yeah, it’s fine, let’s get back to it. No mercy, let’s go!” and on the whistle, I shot the ball into the top right corner of the net as we charged the defense. My signature shot. When I looked up again, Chris was looking back, smiling at me and nodding his head in approval.
Two hours later, Coach finally blew the whistle to signal that practice was over. ”Great job today, ladies. Let’s keep up the intensity this week. This game will be a tough one, but we’ll be ready. We always are. Hit the showers, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We grabbed our bags and headed into the locker room.
Inside, I got out of my sweaty practice clothes and made my way to the showers.
The hot water felt so good on my muscles, which were still sore from yesterday.
I stood there under the water and let it run down my body for what felt like ten minutes before I soaped off and got out. When I unzipped my bag, I gasped.
“What the fuck is this?!“ I said loudly. Isabelle heard me and came trotting over in a towel and sports bra.
“What is what?” she asked eagerly for some gossip.
“Nothing,” I said with frustration, as I quickly pulled my clothes out of my bag and zipped it shut.
“What’s your problem?” Courtney asked.
“Nothing, Courtney! Mind your own business!” I snapped as I threw my bag over my shoulder and stormed out of the locker room. Right outside the door in the lobby, I spotted some of the soccer team sitting on the air conditioners along the windows. As calmly as possible, I walked over.
“Where’s Chris?”
“Pretty sure he’s gone. I’ll tell him you were looking for him.”
“Do me a favor and don’t,” I said with fire in my voice.
“What’s up with her?” I heard one say as I pushed the double doors open to the outside. “Hell if I know,” I heard another say as the doors swung closed behind me. I headed for the steps in front of the gym to wait for my Mom.
The line was long today, so I sat down and pulled some homework out of my backpack, then I grabbed my headphones, plugged them into my Sony Discman, put a Radiohead CD in, and pressed play.
I was too angry to focus on any of the homework in my lap, so I set it on the steps next to me and leaned back on my hands.
The Bends started to play as I looked around at all the kids running on the track, throwing footballs on the field, and walking through the parking lot.
I scanned it for Chris, but no sign of him.
Just then, Isabelle walked up, tapping her ears to tell me to take off my headphones so she could talk to me.
Just then I saw my mom pull up. I was in no mood to talk.
“Hey, sorry, I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow,” I said, as I pulled the headphones from my ears and got to my feet, then I hopped in my Mom’s car as fast as I could, and she drove away.