Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
~MAC~
The rain is coming down and has been since the sixty-fifth minute. I’ve never minded playing in the rain, but right now I hate it. The temperature seems to have dropped by twenty degrees. I grew up and played in Portland, so I should be used to the cold, but this chilly rain is bothering me.
It’s either the rain or the fact that we’re down by two goals.
I sunk one and so has Kelsey, a strong right-winger.
But it’s not enough—Chicago has four. Henny has been getting the crap pounded out of her, shot after shot going her way.
She’s saved so many, but some have gone in.
I’m sure it’s the ones that are going in that are killing her the most. I know it would bother me.
Coach has been screaming at us to push up, but I don’t know that it would help.
They’re sending long balls through, and they’re on at the first touch.
The defense isn’t getting back fast enough.
Cassidy is tired. She may play the mid-field position, but she’s been working back so fast to help.
It’s burning her out. We can’t keep up at this pace, especially since we’re only fifteen minutes into the second half.
There are no time-outs in soccer, but right now, I really wish there were. I want to call one and ask Coach to start looking at some of the subs. We’re getting really tired fast, and there’s still so much game back.
Amelia works the right side of the field along with Carrie, who is the right-back, and they’re both getting tired too. They have been beaten more times than I can count.
As the striker, I hate that I have to stay at the top. I want to run back and help them. The action is happening on the defensive end of the field for us. I want to go and help. I look at Maria and it’s like she can read my mind, because she shakes her head. I sigh.
A Chicago Red Star is heading toward the goal, and she’s coming hard.
Henny comes out so that she can cut her angle and make her shot less likely to go in the net, but it doesn’t work.
She keeps on coming hard, so Hendrix has to adjust her stance.
That’s where she gets her. The player plows into Henny and sends her flying. The goal goes flying into the net.
Hendrix lies there on the ground, and I take off running for my friend, along with the rest of the team, while Amelia has words with the player who took her out.
“That wasn’t clean!” she shouts. “Your ass should be carded!”
“Amelia, cool it!” I shout, hoping to keep her from getting a card. But the words continue between the two of them.
The ref pulls his cards out and holds one right in Amelia’s face.
It’s a penalty, not one that has to take her out of the game, though.
A yellow card is a warning. But he’ll be watching her closely.
Any little misstep on her part, and he’ll be sure to give her a red card.
The red card would take her out of this game and the next one.
Amelia technically doesn’t have to leave the field, but she is.
She smiles proudly as the ref gives a red to the Chicago player, and I can’t help it, I feel vindicated. She has to leave the field as well. Her foul was definitely worse than Amelia’s. By giving her a red card, he’s sending a message to both teams that he won’t tolerate that type of behavior.
I make it to Hendrix and drop to my knees. “What hurts?” I ask her frantically.
Lucas, the team trainer, has come onto the field. Dexter motions for us to get back and away from her. He drops to his knees before Hendrix.
“Talk to me, Hendrix. Where’s the pain?”
She grimaces and puts her hand by her back. “I can’t tell if it’s from the fall or what. But it hurts.”
My heart goes out to her. I want to sit beside her and stroke her hair or something. Anything to make her feel better. But instead, I stand with the team while we all watch what’s happening.
Jase, Coach Nate, and Andie are on the field now. Nate and Jase go right to Hendrix, while Andie gathers us all in a circle.
“You all have to come with me. Come on, we have to talk some strategy,” she says, attempting to pull us together.
Everyone but me is going toward her like she wants.
“Hey, Captain, let’s go. Get your ass over here, and let’s talk to the team.
We need to lead right now. You can’t help her, but they can. ”
I nod and steal one last look at Hendrix. The pain is written all over her face. I join my team in the circle, because there’s nothing more I can do for her.
“Miranda is getting ready to come in for Hendrix. We need to make sure we keep the ball up. We want to play offense, right?” Andie asks, meeting all of our worried eyes.
I’m only half listening to what she’s saying, keeping my attention on Hendrix, who’s been loaded onto a backboard.
“We want to play offense, right?” Andie shouts again.
“Yes!” a few of the players shout in reply.
“I can’t hear you. We want to play offense, right?”
“Yes!” we all shout, this time more forcefully. “Then, ladies, get out there and kick some ass!”
“Family on three!” I shout. We all put our hands in as I count down. “One, two, three, family!”
Everyone shouts family along with me, and I head onto the field, stopping where Cami stands. “Do you think you can behave?” I tease her.
“She was out of line. Even the ref agreed with me. She got a card.” Cami does a little dance as she says that.
“Alright, well, get your head in the game. We’ve gotta finish this shit. For Hendrix?”
“For Hendrix,” she replies, sticking her fist out. We bump fists and get back into our spots.
The rest of the game has some promising spots, but none of it is enough to help us put anything in the net.
But Chicago doesn’t get any in either. It might have taken the injury on Henny to liven the team, but our defense is unstoppable.
While I previously thought Cassidy was gassed, she isn’t anymore.
She came to life and is working hard to help out the defense, as well playing a strong presence on offense.
It just isn’t enough, though. The buzzer sounds and that’s the end of the match.
I hang my head and move over to the sideline.
It’s time for the handshakes at the end of the match.
And being the captain, I have to lead the team, in more ways than one.
I can see it on their faces that the team would rather do anything else, but it’s time to have some sportsmanship and composure.
Forget what they did to Hendrix, who never did return to the field.
I’m guessing the trainers are either still looking at her or she’s getting some ice.
Either way, I hope she’s okay and can ride with us again soon.
Cass slaps my arm and leads up to the front.
She stands behind me and nudges me along.
I slap hands and say, “Good game” to each girl we pass.
I grin at those who are on the National team.
Sometimes I feel like a little girl playing dress-up in this uniform, because these women have played for the gold and the World Cup.
I’ve looked up to these women for years, and now I’m on the same pitch as them. It’s surreal.
After Coach Watts shares his words of wisdom, we’re free to head into the locker room or to see any fans who have gathered and may want autographs.
There are a few of them hanging out over the rails, waving mostly to the Red Stars.
Some are motioning for Blaze players to come over.
I stand there and watch, waiting to see if anyone calls to me.
I hope not, but I know if they do, I have to go over.
I have to smile and take the pictures and sign the jerseys, posters, or whatever else has been brought to be signed.
“Lucas!” I call out when I see him standing on the sidelines. “How is she?”
He walks over to me. His voice is low when he responds. “She’s good. Her muscles spasmed when she hit the ground, so we’re treating her with ice and heat. I hooked her up to some electrodes to try and help. Hendrix will be good as new in a few days, I think.”
I nod. “That’s good news.”
“You feeling okay, Mackenzie?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “I haven’t seen you in the office lately. I just want to make sure that with Coach Watts having you play all ninety minutes of a game, you’re still good to go.”
“I’m good. Thanks for checking in. I’m doing my stretches and foam rolling out the muscles that get a bit sore, but I’m good.”
“Good. Just make sure you hit an ice bath every once in a while, okay?” Lucas smiles at me. He knows how much I hate those.
“Sure, sure,” I tell him.
“I mean it,” he says, attempting to be sterner with me.
“I know you do.” I pat him on the shoulder and walk away. No one appears to want my signature, and I can’t blame them. I put away a nice one, but the Red Stars won.
I’m making my way into the locker room when I hear someone call, “Hey, Mac Attack.”
I look up to find Danny. He’s actually wearing a yellow Tampa Bay Blaze T-shirt with black joggers. He looks effortlessly sexy. I have to stop myself from looking at him because the thoughts that are going through my head are anything but pure.
“Hi,” I reply. I think my voice probably sounds dreamy when I respond to him.
“Tough loss.” He leaves August and makes his way to the edge of the rail, leaning over it so that I can get close to him.
“I was sorry to see it didn’t go your way.
You had a couple of close calls in the second half, and I thought we’d be lucky enough to get another Dixon goal.
” My last name sounds weird coming off his tongue, for some reason.
“We tried our best.” Tears spring to my eyes. I don’t know why—it’s just a league game. It’s certainly not our first loss, and from the looks of some of these teams, it won’t be our last.
“You okay?” He leans over and strokes the edge of my chin. “Need anything?”
His kindness is weird. I expected some teasing or telling me to haul ass. So, I call him on it. “Why are you being so nice to me? Where’s your cold and calculated description of my performance?”
Danny sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I thought you might have had a rough enough game. And August said you would be worried about Hendrix, so I was trying to cut you some slack.”
“Don’t do that,” I reply.
“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me and heads back to August.
The two make their way up the stadium steps to go do god knows what, while I make my way to the locker room and attempt to get warm.