I nodded, thinking of my bra-length hair. “Fine.” I glanced at Carter and widened my eyes. “I’ll do it.”
“Can I go first? We can alternate,” Bryce, the TCC lighting guy, asked without even putting up a fight.
I rubbed the back of my sunburnt neck and nodded. “Go for it.”
Eli went first and missed. Cold dread went down my spine, and I had to bury my head between my hands when I realized how screwed we were.
I got to my feet and said a prayer under my breath while I marched toward the net-less, lopsided goal.
“Don’t let me down, Flabby!” Eli yelled.
I shook my head at him as I walked backward, mouthing and pointing “This is your fault.” I was going to end up bald. I fucking knew it.
The first person to come up to do a penalty kick was Mason. He winked at me as he got into position. “I love you, Flabbers, but this ball is going in.”
“Shut up and kick.” I waved him on, ready to get this over with.
“Your wish is my command, my bride.” He then blew me a kiss.
I only just barely managed to deflect the ball a half-inch with the tips of my fingers when he nailed it. His team was screaming from the sidelines while Eli and Gordo hollered at me for missing. Dickwads.
Freddy on our team went next and managed to score. Nerves stirred my stomach, but I pushed them aside and focused on what I needed to do as I walked back to the goal.
Next on the opposing team was Julian, who didn’t talk any shit and simply went for the shot. The ball went up high and I was too short to reach it.
“Goddamnit! Why aren’t you taller?” Eli’s bellow came out at the same time I yelled in frustration with myself.
Miles, on my team, went last and scored.
Carter came up behind me and squeezed my shoulder. “Gaby, I won’t be mad at you if we lose.”
I patted his hand and smiled sadly. “Thanks, remember you said that later on, okay?”
The last player to kick was…
Sacha.
He smiled over at me as he took a dozen steps away from the ball and got into position. “You ready to lose?”
I crossed my eyes and nodded. “Bring it on, Sassy Pants.”
He raised an eyebrow before smiling huge. “You said it,” he replied, getting into position.
Sacha’s goal: getting the soccer ball into the goal.
The ball's goal: breaking my damn face.
It wasn'treallySacha’s fault the ball curved at the last minute and that my hands were in the air when the ball got intimate with my chin.
I'd never gotten into a real fight before, and I suddenly realized why. Getting hit in the face was… not cool. At. All. I know for a fact I squealed, grabbed my chin with both hands and possibly wailed, "Why would you do that to me?"before collapsing to my knees on the ground.
Sacha—as I quickly learned—was a jackass. I could hear him laughing as he ran up to me, getting down on his knees somewhere close by. The hysterical laughs coming from my brother and his friends were background noise I couldn’t ignore.
"Gaby, oh my God, I'm so fucking sorry!" Sacha’s unmistakable voice was at my ear, both horrified and amused at the same time somehow. "Are you okay?" A hand landed on top of mine and another clasped the back of my head.
"No!" It was the truth.
My face.
