“Are you dating anyone?” I ask Torrance. I guess if Claire has forgiven her, I can make an attempt too.
“No.” She shakes her head, which makes her reddish-brown hair fall over one shoulder. “Being the new girlis only cool if you aren’t upstaged by a way cooler older brother.”
She gives a dramatic eye roll that makes me chuckle softly.
Since I don’t have siblings, I don’t know what that might be like. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. You learn who your real friends are, you know?”
“What about that guy in your English class you had a crush on?” Claire asks her.
“He started dating someone.”
Claire’s smile falls. “Bummer.”
The action on the field grabs our attention and halts our conversation. Vaughn shouts something to his team, looking authoritative and confident in a way that makes my skin prickle. He’s a good captain, and he looks good doing it.
For all the excitement leading up to the game, it feels like time moves slowly during the second half. Pacific has tied the score, but Frost Lake continues to dominate possession.
The stands are quiet as the minutes tick down, but then all of a sudden Vaughn steals the ball on the Pacific side and sprints toward the other end. The crowd is on their feet screaming, or I am anyway.
Vaughn with the soccer ball is a beautiful thing. None of the defenders can catch him. The goalie shuffles his feet, hands up, as he waits in the net.
Number nine kicks the ball hard from the right wing, and it rockets into the back of the net.
The bleachers shake as everyone jumps up and down, hands raised over our heads. My heart is racing so fast.
“We aresodating!” I yell to Claire and Torrance over the noise.
They both laugh at me, and we continue to scream and cheer. The guys on the field look a little more relaxed too as they high-five and shout celebratory things like “Nice goal,” “Way to go,” and some things that have the referee side-eyeing them for language.
Our excitement comes too soon, because Pacific pushes the ball down the field and returns the goal, evening the score again.
Frost Lake kicks the ball into play and starts down the field. My stomach is in knots.
“Let’s go,” I yell.
The words are no more out of my mouth than a Pacific player strips the ball from Eddie and takes off. Two guys break away quickly. Rowan and Vaughn sprint after them, but they’re too far ahead. Barrett stands in the middle of the net, ready to defend the goal. They pass back and forth twice before one sends the ball high into the right corner. Pacific leads by one.
With a groan, we take our seats.
“There’s still time,” Claire says, but her voice lacks conviction.
My gaze lands on Vaughn. His jaw is set in a hard line, and his eyes have this focused but slightly wild look about them. Coach Collins calls a timeout.
Claire stares down at her feet, and she’s muttering under her breath, “We can do this. They’ve got this.”
I don’t look anywhere but at Vaughn through the time-out and as they take the field again. There’s an intensity in his every movement. My stomach is in knots as I watch him take control of the ball. He kicks it in to Rowan, whopasses it back. There’s a grace as he moves, easily getting by defenders and finding an opening. All eyes are on him as he kicks the ball toward the goal.
Silence hangs over the crowd, all of us collectively holding our breath as the ball sails through the air. The Pacific goalie jumps to protect the goal. His fingers look like they barely brush the ball, but it’s enough to keep it from falling into the net.
The whistle sounds, and the Pacific players jump and cheer. Their fans are loud, or maybe it’s just that it’s dead silent on the Frost Lake side. No one moves or says anything for several long seconds. The shock wears off slowly. Someone claps and yells, “Hell of a season, boys.”
And then the rest of us snap out of it as well. I feel numb as I bring my hands together. Vaughn’s head is down as he untucks his jersey and walks to the sideline.
Rowan puts a hand on his shoulder and says something, but Vaughn doesn’t look up or reply.
The usual after-game handshake happens between the two teams. Vaughn never looks to the crowd. He focuses only on each activity like he’s forcing himself through the motions.
