Today’s the championship game and I wish he was here more than anything. I sit on the bench with my headphones in place as I tie up my cleats. A body stands before me, blocking the sun and I glance up. Paxton is there with a smile on his face. He crouches down so his knees are bent and he’s balancing on his toes to stay eye-level with me.
“Campbell, I know you’ve been going through a lot lately, I can tell. But push it all to the side for today. This game isn’t about me or the team; it’s about you and how far you’ve come. You deserve to be here and you deserve the win. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you and I’m glad you were on my team the last four years. I’m gonna miss you, kid.”
“Thanks, Coach.” He stands to walk away, but I stop him. Hey, Coach.” He turns around. I stand to meet him, not wanting the lingering ears to hear what I have to say. “When Coach Trevino showed up and started training with me, he told me it was your idea. It’s always bugged me. Why did you single me out and not work with the whole team?”
His face scrunches up in concern and he shakes his head. “No, the solo training was his idea. I thought it was a good one, but I can’t take credit for it.” He walks away, oblivious to the fact that my heart is hammering against my chest. He chose me from day one. He also lied about it, but I’m going to choose to not focus on the latter.
The championship game is against North Carolina. They’re a tough team to beat and I’ve been watching their plays. Number sixteen gets pushy while number seven has foot skills for days, but doesn’t know when to give up the ball. I know each of them better than they know me and I’m going to use the knowledge to my advantage.
“Circle up, ladies.” We gather around Paxton who looks at us like a proud father. “This has been the best season to date. After this game, a lot of you are done with your college soccer careers. I know I’m going to miss each of you and I want to thank you for the hard work and dedication you’ve each put in. I know there were times it wasn’t easy and you wanted to give up. Every mile I made you run, every header you’ve practiced and crossbar you’ve hit has led you here. This is the culmination of an incredible season and an even better team. Whatever is going on in your head, push it aside. There’s no room for anxiety or nerves here because you don’t need it. You got here on talent and skill and a lot of hard work. You’re here because you deserve to be. And you are better than them. Let’s show them the west coast is better than the east coast once and for all. On three—one, two, three—”
“PVU!”
We take the field with Lindsay to my left. We didn’t win the coin toss, which means we start the game on defense. Sometimes you can learn a lot by starting this way. You can see how smart the other team plays, what their tactics are right out the gate, and who their power hitters are. But when you’re playing a team this good, no one wants to start on defense. It gives them the upper hand and the last thing I want to do is fall behind.
The whistle blows and they start with a drop pass to their midfielder. She’s quick and it’s no surprise why they gave her the ball. She finds an opening across the field and launches the ball to her teammate.
The girl traps the ball with her chest and plays it easily down to her feet. She’s well past me now, hovering between my mids and our defenders. There’s a bit of keep away happening and my team can’t seem to find an opening to steal the ball. The original midfielder comes back, flying past our sweeper and launching the ball past Syd and into our net.
One-nothing.
Fuck.
Lindsay and I line up at the half line and wait to get the ball back. Once we’re settled and the whistle blows, we start down the field. I take the ball and pass it to her when I get a chance. She finds Morgan and sends the ball to her, giving her an opening to charge down the field.
“Ball, I’m open!” I call and Morgan glances up and sees me before sending the ball back to Lindsay who’s double teamed. North Carolina gets the ball back and races down the field while I chase down my ex-best friend.
“What the hell are you doing? I was open.”
“You had a man on you coming from behind. You would’ve lost the ball. It has nothing to do with you.” I have to take her word for it, but I’m not happy about it.
I’m decidedly less happy when the team scores a second goal. This is going to be a long game.
“Ladies, you’re playing sloppy and they’ve outsmarted you for forty-five minutes. You’re only down by two goals. You can come back in this half and win it. I know you can, but I’m going to change the lineup. We’re going to run three-four-three. Morgan, I’m pushing you up top with Bria and Lindsay. You three play together well and I need you guys on top of it. Can you do that?”
“Yes sir,” we all say without even a hint of hesitation.
“Good, now get back out there. We have a championship to win.”
With Morgan at center striker and Lindsay and I on the wings, we should decimate this team. If things weren’t so weird between us now, we could. I don’t want our history to jeopardize this match and I hope they can work with me.
“Morgan, can I talk to you quick?” Lindsay raises a brow and I wave her along to come with. “Look, I know there’s shit between us, but today is bigger than our history and our drama. I want to win this game for Paxton. He deserves this win. Let’s not ruin it for him. I’m willing to push all the bullshit aside and focus on kicking North Carolina’s ass. Deal?”
“Deal.” They both say. Lindsay and I walk away, but Morgan hangs back.
“Bria,” she calls. “Have you talked to him at all? Tatum?” I can’t gauge why she’s asking and despite her tone sounding genuine, I trust her about as much as I trust Shonda Rhimes to not make me cry during Grey’s Anatomy every week.
“No, you got what you wanted. He’s gone.”
“Hey, I am sorry. I think Sam got in my head and—”
“Save it. No bullshit, no drama. Let’s go kick some ass.”
The second half starts and we have possession of the ball. The three of us up top work like we used to, as if we’re an extension of one person instead of three separate ones. We zigzag through the defense and charge toward the goal.
Morgan passes to Lindsay and she kicks the ball toward the right upper ninety. As expected, she overshoots, but she and I are a well-oiled machine. I’m there waiting and head the ball into the goal.
The three of us hug and Paxton cheers from the sidelines. One down, one goal needed to tie and two needed to win. We’re not walking off this field without a trophy.
We’re both neck and neck. NC picks up their defense, starting to play dirty as expected. We manage to tie the game with seven minutes left on the clock. It’s now or never.
I get the ball away from number seven and get to the eighteen before my ankle gets blown out. Searing hot pain shoots up my leg and I collapse onto the field. The ref blows a whistle, but everything around me is white noise. My leg is throbbing and the first person I see is Morgan.
“Are you okay?” She leans beside me as number sixteen on NC steps around me, spitting on the ground and hitting my cleat with her spittle. The whistle blows again and at least this time I notice a flash of red as Sixteen is rewarded a red card. I’m glad she’s out of the game, but that won’t heal my ankle in the next minute so I can take the penalty kick.