“You and me, of course.” I’d experienced the dangers of teaming up with her. “I pick Akil.”
“Fine. I pick Gina and Miguel.” Obediently, they moved to stand beside her.
“We take turns,” I argued. I’d hoped to have Miguel, since the most strenuous exercise Stan did was getting in and out of his golf cart.
“We did,” she said in a maddeningly patient voice. “You picked first in the first round, then I picked first in the second round. It’s perfectly fair. Stan, you’re with Akil and Cole.”
“Sounds like a winning team,” Stan said.
Bridget beamed. “We’re all winners here.”
Christ. I wished the board could’ve heard that. They’d have dropped the charade and given me the CEO position immediately.
Bridget explained the rules, which allowed for passing the Frisbees—unlikely with so few players on a side—and chose the near side of the field as her team’s territory. Then she handed us the red disc and three red bandannas. “Good luck, Red Team.”
As my team trudged to the far side, I tied the red bandanna to my wrist. “Stan, you’re our flag’s keeper. Don’t let anyone near it. Akil, you’re a runner, so you play offense. Your objective is to capture the blue Frisbee without being tagged. I’ll be a midfielder and switch between offense and defense as needed. After you’ve got their flag, you’ll need to make it back to our side of the field without getting tagged. If you get in trouble, pass it to me.” I tossed Akil the disc. He caught it and then flipped it to Stan. Stan bobbled it for a second, then gripped it.
I exhaled. “This game is in the bag.”
Of course, Bridget had procured a whistle, and she blew it to start the game. After checking that Stan was guarding the Frisbee, I watched Akil dart across the center line. He evaded Miguel and headed toward the corner of the field and Bridget. But before he got there, Gina raced past me, her long legs eating up the field.
Fuck, she was fast.
I turned and sprinted after her, my heart pounding. Yes. This was exactly what I needed. All my attention was on Gina as she weaved ahead of me, but as I reached to tag her, she juked right and ran toward Stan.
Stan tapped on his phone’s screen. Who the hell brought their phone to a sport? “Stan!” I bellowed. “Heads up!”
He looked up and pocketed his phone. He waved his hands in the air as if Gina were a bear and that would scare her off. She was going to dart under his arm and snatch our flag. I dug deep to summon my last reserves of speed, though I was built for power, not quickness. Desperate, I leaned forward and tapped Gina’s shoulder.
She glanced back, surprised to find me within reach, then slowed. “Dammit! Two more seconds, and I’d have had your flag.”
I bent and rested my hands on my knees, huffing. “Not this time, Kamal. You’re in jail.” I pointed at the soccer goal.
“I’ll be out soon. You’ll see.” She jogged toward the penalty box.
“Not likely,” I grumbled. “Stan, swap. I’ll guard the flag. You help Akil.” Bridget’s team was down a player, so it’d be easy now. Stan strolled away from the Frisbee toward the center line. I jogged toward our flag and took my position a few feet away. “Hustle, Red,” I called. My blood boiled when I spotted Stan still walking. I opened my mouth to shout at him.
“Ha ha!” Miguel called from too close. As he and Gina dashed back toward their side, he tapped an unsuspecting Stan on the arm and yelled, “Jail, Stan!” Gina whooped.
I dragged my hands over my eyes. What a disaster. I scanned the other end of the field for Akil, hoping he was close to capturing the flag since it was only him and Bridget. I grimaced at what I saw.
Akil sat in the opposite goal, obviously in jail, sipping a beer and laughing with Bridget.Laughing!Not waving at me for a rescue. Not doing a thing to help our team. When Stan plopped down beside him, Bridget handed him a bottle too, and he clinked it to hers.
Fuck! It was up to me. I tightened the red cloth around my wrist and surveyed the battleground. Miguel jogged toward me, seeming uncertain how to get past me to the Frisbee. “Come on, Miguel,” I called. “Come and get it.”
Warily, he weaved first left, then right. But he didn’t have Gina’s quickness, so when I lunged forward, he couldn’t evade my touch. “Go to jail, buddy,” I said with a chuckle. Frowning, he trudged toward the goal.
Before he made it to the penalty box, Gina danced up and tagged him, and they both jogged back toward their side of the field.
I was alone again.
I weighed my options. I could try to capture the flag on my own. Or I could dart across, relying on my speed and determination to free my teammates, then launch a fresh attack. Going it alone appealed to me, though it might prove too difficult with a full blue team and no one left to guard my flag.
Kicking the grass to conceal the Frisbee, I set off at a jog across the field, counting red team members. Now Gina and Miguel joined Bridget, Akil, and Stan in the penalty box. Bridget handed Gina and Miguel beers.
“What, is the game over?” I shouted from a safe distance.
“It can be, if you want,” Bridget said. “This has been fun, right? Come over and have a beer.”
