Chapter One
Game Over
An elbow drilled into Giselle’s ribs.A foot kicked her ankle.Someone shoved her from behind.Another person yanked her shirt and tore it.
A fight?Nah.Just a bunch of soccer girls jostling for position during a corner kick.
On this wet and cloudy Saturday, the critical soccer match remained 2 to 1 with Giselle’s team, the Rapids, down by a goal.Nearing the end of the season in the River Rush County League, the Rapids from the city of Wood Hollow had to at least tie to earn enough bracket points for advancing into the finals.
The game had been brutal.The drizzly weather and muddy field created a hazardous environment and error-prone play.Dribbling through water-filled divots proved a challenge to control the ball, and forget accurate passing.However, the chaotic action, constant hard falls, and rough play delighted the loyal fans who braved the weather to watch this dynamic contest between heated rivals.
The opposing team, the Bolts, had initiated a hard attack with two minutes left to play.Aiming to increase their lead, the all-or-nothing charge resulted in a blocked shot on goal and subsequent corner kick when the ball deflected over the top post of the net.
On the sideline, number seven of the Bolts signaled to her team, then set the ball in the corner marker.In a wild scrum in front of the goal, the Rapids and Bolts pushed, grabbed, switched positions, and fought for ground to await the incoming kick.
Soaked by the light rain and splattered in mud, Giselle hissed as a sharp set of nails dug into her side.Irritated, she glanced at the tall, pony-tailed Bolts player who had given Giselle a hard time all throughout the match.Miss Pony Tail had tackled Giselle three times and even received a yellow card—all while smiling.On other occasions, the rival had also bumped Giselle’s shoulder and knocked her flat in a bone-jarring pounce when both girls tried for a header at midfield.
In the corner kick scrum, Giselle shifted her weight and pushed back against Pony Tail.The girl’s nails lashed again, more than likely drawing blood.Giselle grunted and quickly glared at the line judge.
“Hey!”she hollered.“Do your damn job, linesman.Come on!”
The assistant ref did nothing.He held his position along the sideline, eyes focused and flag in hand, yet failing to heed Giselle’s complaint.
Near the center of the field, the head referee blew a whistle.Number seven of the Bolts signaled to her teammates again and charged forward to kick.A powerful sweep of her leg knocked the ball in a speeding arc toward the players.The scrum grew in ferocity.Hands grabbed and shoved.Hips and shoulders banged together.Fans held their breaths as the ball sailed closer.
Surrounded by a gaggle of scrambling players, Giselle took advantage of cover and grabbed the tall girl’s jersey.The momentary hold prevented the Bolt from timing her leap for the header.The ball sailed past, followed by a loud thump from a kick.Giselle whirled and shouted in triumph.A Rapids defender had gained control of the ball and launched it clear of the melee.
Giselle and a group of Rapids sprinted down the field.Water and mud flew as a thunder of cleats tore the soggy earth in a mad dash for the loose ball.Giselle reached it first.She dribbled past an opposing player and launched the ball far across field to the left wing.She then raced on as the Bolts’ panicked defense scrambled to stop the Rapids’ charge.
Giselle glanced back.The player that received her pass tapped the ball to Vanessa, the team captain waiting a few yards behind.This is it.Gotta get into position, quick!
She zigzagged between the Bolts’ hasty defense.Vanessa’s muscled leg launched the ball up field.Giselle sprinted toward the targeted location.As the ball descended from its high trajectory, she chested the ball into a controlled landing by her feet.She pivoted hard and dodged a slide tackle, then found a clear shot.Her right foot flew back, then rocketed forward.
The sweetsmackof cleat striking ball cracked the air.The goal tender dove to the right, gloved fingertips sliding across the ball’s slick surface to no avail.The tying goal plowed into the back of the net.Gieselle leapt and pumped a fist, her jubilant shout fueled by adrenaline.The onlookers erupted in a crescendo of cheers.Her team swarmed her in fierce hugs and butt slaps.
The ref’s whistle blew.The crowd suddenly fell quiet.Groans and gasps uttered from all around.Confused, the Rapids broke their celebration and looked over at the line judge.His bright colored flag had lifted in a call that ruptured Giselle’s heart—offsides.
“BULLSHIT!”she cried.
Fueled by anger, she sprinted to the line judge, a lofty fellow in black shorts and matching collared top.Soaked by the rain, his hair appeared dark as it hung in wet tendrils.Sharp blue eyes glanced at her between long bangs plastered to his face.She had seen this guy several times throughout the season as he officiated games alongside the head ref, but this occasion marked the first time they had spoken.
“What the hell?”Giselle continued, her chest heaving as she vented.“I sure as crap wasnotoffsides!I think the rain got in your eyes, buster.”
“My eyes, and this flag, work just fine,” he countered.“Offsides.”
“No way!”Giselle stated, her temples pounding.
The high pressure of this game had intensified all week.Every day, the Rapids coach reminded the team of the consequences for failure—a trip to the “losers bracket” for third place.The extra-long practices had taken their toll on Giselle.Her body had been beat to heck and back.Worse, her mental and emotional state also suffered a thrashing as stress and a lack of sleep chipped at her wellbeing.
This goal represented their entire season.Every girl on the team had worked their tails off to be here.Toughing out injuries and sacrificing time from family, friends, and work had been essential for success.However, this guy’s raised flag had crushed everything in an instant.
Giselle lost control.She reached up and snatched the flag from his hand.With a cry, she snapped the wooden stick in half and threw the pieces on the ground.The head ref ran over, his whistle screaming.The darn thing had quite an eventful day from how many times it had blown during this match.On this occasion, the shrill call signaled Giselle’s ejection from the field.Her teammates surrounded her in support as they escorted her to the sidelines.
“There’s still a minute left, Rapids,” Vanessa announced.“Get your butts in gear, we can do this!”
“Let’s go!”another girl shouted.
The team rushed back onto the pitch.Giselle walked up to Coach Jess, a burly woman from Romania.When agitated during soccer practices, Jess had a steel-piercing glare and a voice that could shatter brick.Thankfully, neither of those weapons presented on the coach.Instead, Jess offered a sympathetic shrug and a hard slap to Giselle’s shoulder—a sign of affection.
