Instantly, I glanced Shepard’s way, and his eyes were impassively on me.
My brother said something in the blonde’s ear, and she tumbled off his lap as he stood.
“Time to bounce,” he said loud enough to be heard over the music.
He came my way, and Shepard was right behind him. My brother was a react first and ask questions later kind of guy, impulsive; but even I had to admit, he was mostly well meaning. I glanced over to Kevin because I was afraid August was about to clock him.
Surprising me and anyone who knew him, he simply said, “Hey, Emily,” and took me by the arm, leading me to the door.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.” August all but growled the words and vibrated with anger. “I’ve had enough tonight, and we have practice in the morning.”
He called it practice, but for all intents and purposes, it was a tryout of sorts for those not recruited for the team. Shepard and my brothers had spots, but it wasn’t decided if they’d be benchwarmers or starters. The latter was likely. The team was in an upheaval with the recent departed seniors.
What they didn’t know was I planned to go with them. Though I’d played soccer all through high school, secretly I wanted to play football. I’d played with my brothers and Shep all my life, and believe me, they didn’t hold back. I could kick the hell out of a ball. I was near perfect every time. The only thing that had stopped me before was my father. He wasn’t here now. Besides, maybe for once in my life he would see me. If I made the team, he would have no choice but to acknowledge I was as good as some of the boys.
So maybe it was a good thing we were going home early. I needed to rest. Tomorrow would prove to be very interesting indeed.
5
finley
My alarm went off at an ungodly hour. I didn’t hit snooze. If I had a prayer’s chance at getting into the bathroom before the guys did, I had to go now.
Sharing would be a new experience. I had my own bathroom back at home. It was the only perk I’d gotten as my brothers shared a bathroom between their rooms. And Shep had also used that bathroom when he moved into our house after his parent’s disastrous breakup.
It was no wonder someone walked into the bathroom while I had a face full of soap in the shower. I’d mistakenly not locked the door.
“Get out!” I cried.
“Shit!”
I opened my mouth searching for air after hearing Shepard’s voice.
“Get out!” I yelled again, feeling the heat creep over my complete nakedness. The only towel was hanging outside the shower.
“Give me a minute,” he complained.
I worked on getting the soap out of my eyes because I didn’t think I’d completely pulled the curtain closed. Then I realized why he hadn’t left right away a moment too late.
The sound of the toilet flushing preceded the immediate shift in water temperature from hot to frigid.
A yelp left my throat as I hopped back hitting my back against the cool tiles. The couple of inches of curtain I’d left open gave me a view of Shep pulling up his shorts. I’d missed the view, but then our eyes connected, and my brain finally caught up, and I quickly pulled the curtain closed before his eyes ventured south.
“What the hell?” I groaned as August entered the bathroom. Though I couldn’t see him, he’d deduced what happened because he started laughing. “Priceless, you got her.”
“Yeah,” Shepard agreed.
But there was nervousness in his voice that August didn’t pick up. I heard back slapping and shouted for them to get out again. Thankfully, the door closed, and I was alone again.
When the water had warmed enough to tolerate, I quickly finished rinsing off and got out. I turned the lock and took another few minutes to catch my breath until August was back banging on the door.
“Hurry up. You aren’t the only one that needs the bathroom.”
I dried off and tightened the towel around me. I made a run for my room, knowing the next time I would bring my clothes and lock the door.
Looking cute was the least of my worries this morning. I pulled my damp hair into a ponytail and wore a loose shirt over a sports bra and shorts. The guys weren’t downstairs, so I ate a banana and yogurt while I waited.
Finn rolled into the room. “Morning.”
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, giving him a grin that matched his.
“How was the Omega party?”
I finished chewing my bite of banana and shrugged. “Nothing like a Sigma party, I bet.”
Sawyer had been a member of that elite group. From what I’d heard, you had to have a bank account with more digits to the left of the decimal point than a telephone number to pledge Sigma Gamma Alpha.
“Bunch of elitists if you ask me,” Finn said. “I’m sure you had more fun at the Omega house.”
I quirked up a corner of my mouth as an answer. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
From what I understood, Finn had gone to great lengths to be independent so his family wouldn’t send a caretaker to watch over him.
“It’s no biggie. I’m waiting for my brothers anyway.”
He smiled. “You drive a hard bargain. Besides, my ego isn’t that big not to accept help. And go ahead and ask any question you want. I’m a straight shooter. You know you want to.”
His wink almost gave me the gumption to ask about how he’d gone from being completely paralyzed to waving his hand. But despite his easy-going nature, I couldn’t do it.
“Eggs?” He chuckled and told me how he liked them. I got the skillet from a lower cabinet and the eggs from the fridge. Then I asked a slightly different question, “Did you always know one day you’d be this close to walking again?”
He’d been hit head on by a car driving way too fast in a residential area.
“No. A lot of it has to do with the care I received right after the accident. The surgeon who put me back together worked miracles. When I told them I’d felt something, because it was fleeting, I was told it was phantom pains.”
“But it wasn’t?”
His head tilted, and he glanced straight ahead for a second. “I don’t think so, but the fact is that I can do this—” He wiggled his bare toes and the fingers of the left arm he hadn’t moved much. “—could all be a result of time or the stem-cell treatment I received. It’s part of the reason I’m here. I have a grant to do more research.”
Cooper came downstairs just as I finished Finn’s eggs. I slid them on a plate. Then I walked it over to the table where a chair was conveniently missing. I figured this was where Finn ate.
He rolled over and said thanks. I smiled. “You’re welcome.” To my brother, I said, “You’re late; kitchen’s closed.”
All of us could cook, maybe not like chefs, but Dad had us learn how to take care of ourselves from cooking to cleaning to doing our own laundry. We didn’t have a household staff even though we could afford it. We all had jobs in the house, including Mom, lest we be spoiled by the hard-earned money Dad brought home.
I pushed that bitter pill back as August and Shepard appeared.
“Why are you up early?” August asked me. “Soccer tryouts aren’t until Wednesday.”
He hadn’t meant anything by it, but it stung all the same. When Layton hadn’t offered me a place on their soccer team, my father had reminded me I wasn’t good enough. He’d argued for me to take one of the partial scholarships at a different school. When I’d held my ground, he’d made a point that I needed to earn my place. For him, that meant being number one at something to earn the tuition he was paying for me to attend.
“I’m going with y’all.”
August took an apple while Shepard grabbed an orange from the filled fruit basket sitting on the middle of the island. “Fine, let’s go,” August said.
We piled in the car with August at the wheel, Shep beside him, and Coop and me in the back. My ey
es almost popped out of my head when we pulled up in the parking lot in front of a huge building complex.
I’d read about it. They’d just finished building it from wealthy alumni donations. It had opened this year and was dedicated for and only used by the football program. It reputedly had a swimming pool, mini golf course, bowling lanes, and a sand volleyball court.
“Wow,” Shepard said.
We all silently agreed, getting out of the car and taking in the sheer size of the building decked out with a shooting water fountain out front. Then there was the practice field just beyond it that was the size of our high school’s stadium.
Everything became real.
August said, “Come on.”
I looked in the direction he was waving us where several players were heading to the field.
Suddenly my plan felt so daunting. I took in a deep breath and followed, wondering how my brothers would react when I identified myself there for tryouts.
Cooper and Shepard would probably say nothing. But August was a wild card. Though he picked on me privately, publicly he’d always had my back. But this was different. I wasn’t sure what his reaction was going to be.
Luckily, by the time we got there, I was swallowed into a crowd of guys of all shapes and sizes. I got a few looks, but since I was surrounded by three big guys, no one said anything. I held back in the pack, not sure when to make my move.
I’d gone to football tryouts once before. My first year of high school, I’d walked in with a chip on my shoulder knowing what I was up against. But the coach had publicly shut me down when he asked if I had a signed permission slip from my parents. Dad refused to sign the forms, and that had been the end of things.
This was different. I was eighteen and could do what I wanted. So there I was hidden when I heard the coach address the guys.
“Now ladies . . .”
Everything went into slow motion. The crowd seemed to part giving the coach a view of me.
He removed his cap and scrubbed at a balding head. “Cheerleading practice is in the gym.” He pointed to a building off in the distance.
“I’m not a cheerleader,” I said with my spine ramrod straight.
“Fine, but you can watch your boyfriend from the stands,” he said with a pointed finger in that direction.
I narrowed my focus at the coach, afraid I might glance in Shepard’s direction.
My face was a fireball of flames as I spoke. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He scratched at the hairless crown of his head. “Fine. No matter why you’re here, if you’re doing an article or a research paper, you can’t be on the field.”
My moment had arrived. It was now or never. I blurted the first thing that popped in my head.
“What if I’m here for tryouts?”
I wasn’t sure if the silence was due to my tunnel vision as I silently freaked out over what would happen next. Or was everyone waiting, like me, for how the coach was going to respond. But it wasn’t him who spoke.
“I think we should give her a chance,” Billy said, having stepped into the gap, blocking my view of the coach.
He gave me a broad smile before turning and repeating his statement to the coach who moved forward to step around Billy.
“Have you played before?” Coach asked me.
I wouldn’t let his intense eyes break me. “With my brothers.”
I didn’t point them out. Though, I could see them out of the corner of my eye staring wide-eyed at me.
“With no training, tell me, what position do you see yourself in because though this is a game, this is not a game.” When I started to speak, he held up a hand. “Let me guess, you fancy yourself a quarterback?”
“No, sir.” I’d added that last bit out of respect. He needed to know I was serious. “Kicker.”
His bushy brows shot up. Billy stepped in again.
“Give her a shot,” he said.
Coach waved his hand as some other guys jumped in to chant something inaudible to encourage me. He silenced everyone with that one motion of his hand slicing through the air.
“Fine. Give me a ball.”
He held up his hand, and one was tossed to him from out of nowhere. “Who’s going to hold the ball?”
Billy stepped forward but so did Shepard. Shep’s eyes locked on mine, and though I didn’t want him to be there if I failed, he was my best hope. He’d held the ball for me countless times. I nodded in his direction.
Coach tossed the ball to him. I ignored everyone and walked toward the middle of the field, forcing my worries deep into my gut. If I had a prayer of making the team, I had to do this. I would prove myself worthy.
6
shepard
Though gritted teeth, I said to Finley, “A little warning.”
“Why? You guys would have tried to stop me.”
I wanted to yank her to a halt and tell her I wouldn’t have. But all eyes were on us.
“Fifty yards,” someone yelled.
I turned around, walking backward, ready to protest, but Finley said, “It’s fine.”
I pivoted forward. “That’s five yards more than your longest.”
She shrugged, leaving me to shake my head. “This is a bad idea.”
“I can do it,” she said.
The Farrows were all stubborn. If she didn’t make it, they wouldn’t take her seriously. It would be better for her to kick within her range so it would be a sure thing. I said nothing, though. She was probably nervous, and I didn’t want to add to it.
I kneeled at approximately the thirty-three-yard line because it was another seventeen yards to the goal post.
“You’ve got this,” I said.
She gave me a small smile and a nod of her head as she stepped back. I’d never really prayed before, but I did now. I put the ball on the ground with two fingers instead of one. I wanted to make absolutely sure it was steady for her.
After centering herself and taking a few deep breaths, she rocked forward twice and then moved toward the ball with the grace of the dance classes she’d taken growing up. But her eyes were focused like they were when she was aiming at a soccer goal. I’d gone to several of her games even when she didn’t know I was there.
Her kick was perfect in execution. Collectively, everyone held their breath as the ball took flight. It was that surreal moment when it headed straight for the goal post. Only it bounced off the crossbar and headed back our way.
I closed my eyes as the guys on the sidelines went wild, probably because she’d gotten close. When I opened them again, Coach was waving her off.
“Wait,” I said, jumping to my feet. “Let’s see if Bryant can do it.”
Bryant was the current kicker. I didn’t know all my teammates by name, but I knew his. We’d followed all the games from last year, and he’d missed several key scores. I may not have liked Billy, but when he rallied with me in order to help Finley get another shot, I inwardly gave him some respect.
Our kicker wasn’t happy. According to his stats, he wasn’t guaranteed to make the kick either. He was visibly pissed when he walked on the field with a different guy to hold the ball for him.
We stood off to the side, and I leaned in to whisper to Finley, my hand finding her lower back.
“He can’t make this.”
“I know,” she whispered back.
The guy completely shanked it. It went far and wide barely crossing the goal line.
When Bryant balked about Finley being unproven, I yelled, “So what’s your best?”
The glare I got from him meant I wasn’t making any friends by siding with a girl no less.
He didn’t speak, just moved to the twenty-five-yard line. His shot went through the goal post easy but a lot to the right.
Finley’s best was forty-seven yards. So twenty-five yards would be a cake walk for her.
“Let’s do this,” I told her, hating when she walked forward and disconne
cted our contact.
I set the ball, and watched my girl count her steps back. Then she nailed the kick straight down the middle. The guys on the sideline lost it with surprised faces.
Bryant wasn’t ready to admit defeat, and it became a contest of sorts. They kicked from the left hash mark first because typically kicks weren’t made from the center position. Again, Finley showed him up. Hers went straight down the middle, where his was off. On the right side, she nailed it again. His ball hit the upright.
Finally, the coach came over.
“If you want to be on this team, you have to do drills and practice like the rest of the guys.”
She nodded. “I want this.”
He grumbled something, then we all walked back to the sideline. None of us were in pads, so I wasn’t surprised when we were told to do laps since so much time had been wasted.
I lost sight of Finley when we were broken up into groups to run stairs or do short drills. Others were taken in to get locker assignments and equipment.
By the time I made it inside the complex, I was starstuck. It felt like I’d made it to the pros. Inside was decked out with the team colors in banner-sized letters. If not for that, it resembled a mall with escalators leading up and down.
That was just the beginning. The locker room had a center section with a circle of seats for the coach to hold court. I was still in a fog when I got my locker assignment.
The haze cleared when I heard some of the guys talking about Finley.
“Dude, she’s hot. It’s sexy as fuck she can kick a ball.”
Billy answered the guy. “I guess I have to keep my balls protected when I ask her out.” That got a laugh. “Can you imagine getting between those long legs of hers?”
“Right,” the other guys said.
I’d glanced up in time to catch Billy smirk at me while the guys slapped his back as if Finley agreeing was a sure thing.
They dispersed before August arrived. “I switched, so I’m next to you. Cooper’s over there.”
Songs For Cricket Page 3
