“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” he says, failing to contain his grin. “We still have sixty minutes left to play. Kristof, you need to play tighter on your man, but watch the play and be ready to push across and back up Bentley when needed. Keep formation at all times. When we get sloppy, we put our teammates under pressure.”
Kristof nods, the cocky smirk slipping from his face. The kid’s good, but he absolutely needs to be humbled.
“We’re getting plenty of possession, but we’re going to switch up to a three-five-two structure and focus on width and control,” Coach continues. “Logan and Ashcroft, I want you two to work together to confuse the space. Keep them guessing and rattle them. Let’s play smart out there. Don’t waste the ball, play it quickly, and take your chances.”
Ashcroft holds his fist out to me, and I bump it. We’ve gotthis.
“When we get a turnover in defence, we want to move the ball quickly. With the overload in the midfield, Mathers and Kale keep wide. We’ll be relying on your speed down the outside.”
Murmured assent fills the room, everyone knowing their role to play.
Hightower isn’t expecting our change in structure, and it works to our advantage. They scramble to adapt, but in the confusion, we maintain possession. It only takes ten minutes for Everett to score a header off a corner, and seventeen minutes later, I score off a perfectly timed cross from Doyle. He then scores another in the dying minutes, and I’m practically vibrating with anticipation of seeing Juliet when the three sharp blasts from the ref signal the end of the game.
I’m bouncing on my toes as we line up to shake the opposition’s hands.
“You good?” Everett asks, squeezing my shoulder.
“Never better,” I answer honestly.
He shoots me a strange look but doesn’t say anything else as we follow our teammates into the change rooms.
Making sure no one’s looking, I slip my phone out of my bag and text Juliet.
Blake: Give us about twenty minutes and we’ll be out. Can’t wait to see you.
Not waiting for a reply, I drop it back into my bag and strip down so I can shower quickly. I played one of the best games of my life tonight, and I’m fucking stoked Tori and Juliet were both here to see it.
Everett takes his time, and I try to play it cool. I didn’ttell him Juliet and Tinsley were coming because I shouldn’t know that. When we exit, I spot Emily and Tori waiting for us and head towards them, but Everett mutters a curse under his breath and storms off in the opposite direction, towards an older man who has the same dark features. His father.
Shit.
I pull out my phone and text Juliet, praying she gets the message before she gets blindsided by her ex-husband.
Blake: Your ex is here. I’ll let you know when it’s all clear.
Her response comes through a second later.
Pixie: I’m going to take Tinsley home.
Blake: Please don’t. Everett will want to know she was here. He doesn’t look happy. Seeing Tinsley will cheer him up.
That’s an understatement. Everett’s face is like a thundercloud as he engages in a heated discussion with his dad. I keep my eyes on them as I reach Tori and Emily, the latter clinging to my sister’s hand.
“Who’s that?” Tori asks.
“Everett’s dad,” Emily says in a wary tone as my phone buzzes in my hand.
I glance down, angling my screen away from the girls so I can check the notification. Not that I need to bother, they’re both watching the interaction with Everett and his dad.
Pixie: We’ll wait in the car.
Blake: We’ll be out soon.
“Should I go over there?” Emily asks.
I shake my head. The last thing Everett will want is a witness to whatever is being said.
Tori worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and I know she’s reliving our own trauma with our father.
