Chapter Thirteen: Opponents

A R G E N T

First game of the season.

To say I was excited would be an understatement. I was so hyped up, I couldn't sit still – the anticipation, the build-up – and what a way to start the season. We were playing Thornfalls, our school's biggest rivals. I was a bundle of pent-up nerves, and I could hardly sit still, so I paced, walked about, hopped on my feet, trying to calm down.

"Man, chill out," Jared says, slapping me on the shoulder as he walks by.

I make another round of the locker room, refusing to break stride. "I am fucking calm."

"No, you're really not," Robby looks up from the bench, where he's tying his cleats. "You're jumping around like you're high."

"Wait, are you high?" Aris zips up his duffel bag and passes a water bottle to Tristan, who catches it in one fluid movement.

"I'm not high," I stop my pacing to lean against the locker, my shoulder digging into the metal.

"Just excited."

"We all are, dude," Sunil tugs on his powder blue and white Jersey, our school's emblem emblazoned across the front and his surname in bold print at the back. "But save some of that energy for the field, captain."

"And for Oscar," Jared adds.

"Don't remind me," I grit out.

"Don't worry, we're gonna crush them," Robby fist bumps Jared. "We know you'll take him down, Arge."

"And were there to back up," Rodrigo takes out his headphones.

"I'm only as good as my team," I grin, earning several fist pumps and pats on the back.

"Yeah, right," Anas slams the locker, and I ignore him. Let him mope all he wants; I had bigger opponents tonight.

Oscar Woods, my rival, would be returning for his first game today. Scouts will be looking for recruiting, and what better way than to see the fiercest clash in the state? Oscar and I facing off in the first match of the season. Two legendary players, star strikers, and now team captains taking a go at it. It doesn't help much that Oscar's dad was as much of a soccer player as my mother was.

And they were bitter rivals too.

I blame hereditary genes for this.

"All right team, gather round," Coach announces his presence, as he holds out his clipboard in one hand, whistle in the other. "We went over gameplay already, so I hope you all know what tactics to implement. I'm not repeating myself."

I push myself off the locker as the other boys scramble around coach, pulling shirts into place, hands behind their backs like soldiers. It's the last inside talk we can get, the last-minute advice for decisions, before we face off. These minutes are precious, a small piece of what you retain now can save the whole game.

"Thornfalls were playing on the defence up till now. You've seen their other games," Coach goes on. "But Oscar is back, and he's one of the best strikers this State's got. They're gonna be utilising him in every way, finding gaps and going for the attack. You boy are aware of how fast he is when he's got the ball in possession."

The boys around me nod. Anticipation and fear light their eyes.

Coach turns to the defenders. "Robby, Anas, you guys have to protect the back. The offence will be much more resistant than you've seen them in other games."

"Yes, coach."

"Jack, no ball should be getting between you, and the net. I've shown you their attacker's style of free kicks, you know where to look."

"I do," Jack slaps his gloved hands together.

"Midfielders, strikers,, watch your guy's backs. Those defenders are ruthless, they've been playing without Oscar for so long, and they've held down the Fort. Most of them were last year's seniors but the fresh-blood ones are just as ruthless," Coach looks at each of us, gauging our reactions. "You boys have played here for something long, this is your moment. The first game. Let's start off with a bang, yeah?"

Jared raises his fist. "Too starting with a bang!"

"And ending on one!" I add, and we erupt into whoops and cheers.

***

The field is lit by floodlights (it blew the school's budget in exchange for cancelling the Spring Formal last year) illuminating the grass and the glistening metal of the goalposts looms in the distance. A slight wind blows the nets, rope whipping against metal bars. The goalkeeper of the opposition team stands between the posts as he takes penalty shootouts with one of the other players, cladded in purple.

I spot Oscar amongst his teammates, passing a ball back and forth – when he catches sight of me, he raises a hand in greeting. I return the gesture.

My gaze skips to the bleachers, where I see my parents, and I jog over. I saw Tori and Sage by the snack stalls on my way out, and I know Rouge is busy with her cheerleader's squad doing warmups and getting ready to perform before the game. We acknowledged each other earlier before going to the lockerrooms, and she'd wished me luck as she hugged me.

At least I could count on soccer to mend things with my sister.

"Argent, how are you feeling?" Mum asks me, her elbow interlinked with my Dad's.

Both of them have involuntary expectant looks on their faces, subtly reminding me what I'm fighting for. Of all the weighted expectations resting on my shoulders at tonight's game. One look at my arm – where that C rests on my sleeve – tells me the duty I have. As a captain. As a player.

My parents both played soccer when they were my age. And they were good. I have a lot riding on this game.

No pressure.

"I'm fine," I shake my arms. "Just a little nervous."

"That's fine," Dad punches my shoulder gently. "Just focus on the game."

"You got this, Champ," Mum nods, and she's smiling. "We're proud of you. We know you'll win this."

"And we'll be just as proud even if you don't," Dad raises an eyebrow at Mum pointedly, silently communicating with his eyes to her. I hated when they did this. I can never tell what they're saying.

"Yes, yes of course," My mother pats his hand quickly as if assuring him and not me. "We'll be proud as long as you do your best."

"The proudest," Dad chimes in, and then they start.

"The most proud."

"The proud family."

"Prouder than a pod of peacocks."

"That's not how–" My dad begins but is interrupted by Tori and Sage coming over with snacks. Tori is dressed in full blue and white, her cheeks smeared with paint, and Sage has a foam finger bigger than he is.

"Hey, Arge!" Tori grins at me. "Games about to start. I saw Rouge and her friends coming out."

Sage stands two steps above me so that we're at eye level. "I'm taller than you."

"Hey, Little man," I snag a pretzel from his arms overloaded with food. "What you got there?"

"We brought snacks!" He announces, shoving the whole lot in my face.

I step back and chuckle. "Okay. I can see that."

Mum comes to the rescue before the whole lot of food can topple over, and Dad helps her carry it to their seats.

"Good luck out there, baby," Mum calls loudly over her shoulder. My ears redden as several heads in the stand turn to look at me, and some of the guys on the team snicker.

Which mother still calls her teenage son baby?

"Have you seen Milton in the crowd? He's taking bets, and I wanna drop one in," Tori looks around suspiciously.

My eyebrows raise. "You're betting on this game?"

She shrugs. "As long as you're sixteen, Milton let's anyone bet. But he's so elusive about it."

"How long has this been going on?" I ask.

"Since Milton's freshman year. Aren't y'all the same age?"

Yes, we are. Wow. I went to this school for four years, and I had no idea about this betting thing. I had a few words to say to Milton later.

"Gotta go," I salute my sister.

Tori slaps her right hand on her curled left fist, a sign of, a promise of what she expects me to bring to that match. Of what she expects from me.

Of what everyone seems to expect from me.

"Hey, Arge!" Charlotte is not far off from where I am, sitting with her parents and James (whose head is already buried in a book).

"Really, James?" I deadpan after accepting a too-long hug from Charlie. God, sometimes I forgot how overly affectionate that girl can be. "Lord of the Rings?"

James shrugs, closing the cover oh-so-carefully. "It's a classic."

"Can't argue with that."

"Ooh, I'm so excited!" Charlie squeals and wraps both her warm hands around my own. "Aren't you nervous, Arge? I'm nervous. and I don't even play! You must be super nervous!"

I laugh a little. I can always trust Charls to brighten the mood.

"Yeah, I'm nervous," I subtly pry my hands away before she stops the blood flow in my palms. "I should've get going, prep rally is about to start."

"Good luck out there," James shakes my hand. "You'll do great."

"Thanks, man," I smile. "Just look up from your book once in a while, yeah?"

"Sure," He says, and I know he will. He shows up for the games when he can stay in, that's enough for me.

"Break a leg!" Charlie grabs my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. "I mean the phrase, of course. Don't actually break a leg. That'd be terrible."

"Yes, it would," I pull away before anyone else embarrasses me with their motherly concerns.

I take one last look around the crowd, trying to spot a familiar head of pitch-black hair and a signature leather jacket.

I don't see Max anywhere.

Swallowing down the disappointment, I climb down from the bleachers and join my team's line, standing tall. A trumpet blows, and the crowd hollers, as cheerleaders race onto the field with handstands and cartwheels back-to-back. A flurry of blue and white. Rouge leads the pack, cladded in her skirt and tank top uniform. Drums roll as the marching band steps into view, fringing the field in their ridiculous hats and coats.

The atmosphere is vibrant with noise, with cheer, with pure, undiluted excitement.

"Ready, everyone?" I call out.

It's game time.

***

"Shake hands," The referee instructs.

I step forward, over the white line, my eyes locking with Oscar's. Grass crunches beneath my cleats, and I clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. I'm not cold, but goosebumps prick my skin from nervousness.

"Woods."

"Rays," Oscar nods, accepting my outstretched hand firmly. He has a glimmer in his eyes, and it's pure rivalry. "May the best man win."

A small smile tilts my lips. "Of course."

We part, heading to the opposite side of the field. The guests get the first kick, and I step back, gazing towards the crowded stands. My family waiting in the bleachers, here to support me. Charlie and James are in the audience as well. Rouge on the sidelines cheering me on. I wished Max would've made it – but what you gonna do? Everyone else was here to support me, I was grateful for that.

I look over my shoulder to my teammates, strikers, midfield, defence, all the way to goalie. Jared meets my eye and nods, at the far end, Sunil raises his eyebrows. Robby, Tristan, Aris, and the rest. They're ready.

We're ready. We got this.

The referee raises his hand and blows his whistle.

Oscar passes the ball to his forward, and then the ball is passed back – I'm already jogging forward, my strikers on the attack. Sunil slides for the ball, nearly catching Oscar, but the latter makes a risky jump, taking the ball with him as he crosses the field. And damn,man, is he fast.

"Russel!" I yell at the midfield, and he's already on it, marking Oscar as the defence line that blocks any attackers from getting through. Two of the opposition approach me, and I hang back by the sidelines, avoiding their aim. Coach barks orders from close by, his face red as a ripe tomato.

Oscar is outmatched and Jared is quick to intercept, catching the ball with a quick manoeuvre. I deflect both Thornfalls' players, finding a gap closer to Jared.

"Pass it!" I hold out my hand, eyes on the ball.

Jared doesn't hesitate, and the ball arcs across the field, skipping the opposition. I catch it with a flick of my boot, my foot curving as I drop the ball and make a run for it. I'm passing the ranks of the Thornfalls half, adrenaline bursting in my veins like needles prickling my skin. Sweat beads my forehead, slick and sticky. Noise blasts from the stands, and cheerleaders clap around me.

A purple t-shirt block's my line of vision as I wrestle a player for the ball. I feign left and then make a move right, sliding through to the goalbox. A quick glance around me tells me that I've got some teammates waiting for the ball, most of them marked by a fortifying wall. I pass the ball back to Aris and then skim around.

The ball bounces to the opposition and then my team is on the run. We get in back in record time. Over and over again this happens, both sides crossing over, dangerously close to the other's goalbox. We play back and forth, defenders keeping the line strong, stopping any close calls. The attackers are left to deal, intercepting each other at every corner.

The ball is in my possession again and I'm fucking running.

"Argent!" Andre calls from my left. He manages to find a space and I pass the ball over instantly.

There's a crowd of us in the goalbox now, the majority of both teams within Thornfalls' side of the field. We're shoving passed each other, jumping as the ball bounces from Sunil to Robby and then back to the former. Several Thornfalls players try intercepting and Oscar joins the fray, looking for an opening. Shouts come from both sides of the field, and I struggle to find a spot closer to the nets.

My heart slams against my ribcage.

Sunil kicks the ball, hard, straight at the goal. The goalkeeper, alert and surrounded, makes a jump for the ball, lifting above everyone else. At the same time, I run forward and header the ball, my forehead slamming into hard plastic. The ball skews in the opposite direction.

It skims the goalkeeper's gloved fingers.

My vision blurs.

The ball hits the back of the nets.

"Woah!" Jared whoops, both arms in the air. Several other teammates join the cheer, running to the corner of the field to celebrate. The cheerleaders add to their hollers, performing a victory routine. A grin breaks across my face as I'm engulfed by my teammates, earning pats on the back and fist bumps.

"Nice one, Arge!" Coach ruffles my head as I walk passed. "Keep the flow going, you guys got this!"

I breathe heavily, my eyes locking with Rouge. She raises her pom pom. I nod in acknowledgement. Show 'em how it's done, her gesture says.

The ref blows his whistle, and I crack my neck.

Time for round two.