Offside

by M. G. Higgins

  “Good ball control.”

  It was Coach Berg. He must have got caught up in something right after practice because he was just then gathering drill cones. “I haven’t seen that speed before either.”

  Faith caught the ball and held it. He must have seen her sprinting around the track.

  Throwing the last cone into the box, he said, “Now, you’re a junior, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you thought about playing midfield? You seem to have the stamina for it.”

  Once again, Faith was at a loss for words. Midfield meant running, which she loved. But she’d always thought defense was all she could do. She shook her head.

  He hoisted the box of cones in front of him. “You have a nice chip pass too.” He nodded slowly. “We may have you in the wrong position. Let’s have you scrimmage at mid for a few practices. Depending on how things go next Wednesday, the Lake Valley game, maybe I’ll sub you at outside mid.” He looked her in the eyes. “What do you think?”

  “Um… sure. Okay.”

  He nodded again and left.

  For the second time that afternoon, Faith wondered if she should thank him. But he wasn’t doing her a favor. He was just thinking of the team. If she messed up, he’d never mention midfield to her again. Still, it was nice of him to give her a chance. Really nice.

  O

  n her walk home, Faith thought about what it would mean to switch positions. She’d always liked defense. But lately she had felt as if she was just going through the motions. The more she thought about playing midfield, the more excited—and nervous—she became. In addition to defending, she’d have to go on the attack. It meant more dribbling—and not getting intercepted. It even meant scoring if she had the chance.

  Faith knew mid was a tough position. The Copperhead midfielders, like Madison Wong and Elise Heisel, were constantly moving. They left the field drenched in sweat.

  Faith checked the time on her phone. “Crap.” She was half an hour late. If she didn’t live up to her end of the agreement, it would give her mom an excuse not to live up to hers. She jogged the rest of the way home and flew into the apartment. Everyone was in the kitchen, eating dinner.

  “Hi,” Faith said, dropping her backpack on the floor. “Sorry I’m late. Practice went long.”

  Her mom gave her a disapproving look before rising from the table. She rubbed Antim’s head. “Be good for your sister.”

  Antim nodded and shoved a Tater Tot into his mouth. Vijay and Hamsa sat without looking up.

  “Have a good nap, Mom.” Faith did feel guilty. Working the graveyard shift, her mom never got enough sleep. On days when Faith had practice, it was her job to keep everyone quiet while Mom got a little shut-eye before going to work.

  Faith didn’t have time to mess around. After dishing up a plateful of food, she glared at her siblings. “I have work to do tonight. You wake up Mom, I kill you. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Vijay showed her a mouthful of partially chewed potatoes.

  “Gross.” Faith carried her plate into her room.

  Even if Coach Berg subbed her for only a few minutes in the match against Lake Valley, she wanted to make a good impression. Going online, she watched all the YouTube videos she could. She queued up footage of professional teams, like Real Madrid and Barcelona and Manchester United. She’d already watched these games a million times but never while thinking like a midfielder. This time, she studied Kaka’s step over and Iniesta’s dribbling. Grabbing her ball, she practiced footwork on her bedroom floor.

  Faith barely noticed when her mom got dressed and left for work. If Vijay and Antim had beat each other to a pulp, she wouldn’t have noticed that either. When Faith collapsed into bed at midnight, Hamsa was sitting on her bed using her cell phone.

  “You should be asleep,” Faith said, closing her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Texting axe murderers in Uruguay.”

  “Okay,” Faith mumbled and quickly fell asleep.

  T

  he next morning, Faith got to school early and ran laps, trying to build up her stamina. In chemistry, she moved her lab bench away from Andrew Rizzo, hoping he wouldn’t notice her post-workout odor.

  The Copperheads had a home game that night. For once, Faith didn’t mind the time she spent sitting on the bench. It gave her a chance to analyze the midfielders from both teams. She replaced Olivia at defense for the last ten minutes of the game after a rival player kicked Olivia hard in the ankle, but Faith didn’t get sent farther up field.

  Near the end of the next Monday’s practice, Faith trotted out to her usual position for scrimmage.

  “Patel,” Coach Berg called, “I want you at right midfield today. Lange, you’re at center. Wong, take Patel’s place at D.”

  Sophie Lange and Madison eyed each other. Madison shrugged and stepped back.

  Faith took a deep breath. She was relieved he hadn’t forgotten. She was also anxious about screwing up.

  “What’s going on?” Caitlyn asked.

  Faith shrugged her shoulders bashfully and ran to the right mid spot.

  “Okay, let’s go!” Coach Berg clapped his hands.

  Playing defense wasn’t difficult for Faith. It was what she was used to. Offense was the challenge. Faith ran as fast as the other midfielders, but her timing was off. Twice she ended up ahead of the ball. Another time, she lost sight of the ball entirely. It scooted by her across the touchline. She was afraid to keep possession too long, and she passed the ball even when she wasn’t being pressured. By the end of the thirty-minute scrimmage, Faith was panting and soaked with sweat.

  “Patel,” Coach Berg called when she got to the sideline.

  She cringed, expecting the worst.

  “Nice hustle,” he said. “Your field vision can use some work. I know I always harp on passing, but sometimes it’s better to dribble and keep the ball for a few touches. Only pass when you’re pressured and someone’s open.”

  “Right.”

  “How do you feel?”

  It wasn’t the horrible feedback she’d expected. Faith couldn’t help grinning. “Okay.”

  He smiled back and nodded. “Same thing tomorrow.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Faith noticed Caitlyn staring at them. Was she scowling?

  . . .

  The bus for the trip to Lake Valley High left Fraser at four thirty. On game days, Faith’s brothers and sister were on their own while Mom took her evening nap. Faith knew her mom kept an ear open and didn’t get as much rest as she needed on those days.

  Faith grabbed her usual spot on the bus, close to the back. The bus was never crowded, so she didn’t have to share a seat. That was fine with her. She didn’t want to listen to all the club gossip. She plugged in her earbuds and turned up her iPod as the bus moved out of the lot.

  She’d just closed her eyes when she felt someone sit next to her. She looked over. Caitlyn’s lips curved into a simpering smile.

  Faith pulled out her earbuds.

  “So you’re moving up in the world,” Caitlyn said. “Defense not your thing anymore?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with defense.”

  “Then why is Coach moving you to midfield?”

  “He hasn’t moved me yet. I like to run. He just thinks it might be a good fit.”

  Caitlyn nodded. “You know—I saw him smile at you. And I know you were busy looking at him when I bonked you on the nose last week.”

  Faith stared at Caitlyn. What was she implying?

  Caitlyn winked. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. He’s not my type, but he’s not a bad-looking guy. For an old dude.”

  “No! It’s not like that!”

  Caitlyn tilted her head. “What’s that thing Shakespeare wrote about protesting too much?” She paused. “Anyway, I hope it all works out. The good fit and everything.” She waved. “Ciao.”

  Caitlyn walked down the aisle, back to her seat next to Olivia, and whispered in her ear. Olivia turned
in her seat and grinned at Faith.

  F

  aith climbed down from the bus with her head lowered, feeling sick to her stomach. Was Caitlyn spreading rumors about her and Coach Berg? It was so unfair. And untrue!

  Faith threw her equipment bag onto the end of the bench. Her teammates were milling around and starting to stretch. If Caitlyn was spreading gossip, everyone would be shooting her side-glances. But they were ignoring her, just like always.

  Coach Berg stood in front of the bench, jotting something on his clipboard. Feeling self-conscious, Faith quickly looked away. Now she had to worry about Caitlyn reading something into every look and gesture between them. Faith stretched out her right foot and did ankle circles. She could only hope that Caitlyn would get bored and not take her teasing any further. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, Faith tried to clear her head. She wouldn’t let Caitlyn throw her off her game.

  Faith was on the bench for the start of the match. She watched the flow of the game, the tactics of the Lake Valley players. Their midfielders were fast. Talented too. Was she up to this? She’d only had a few practices at the position. But even with her doubts, she really wanted to give it a try.

  As the first half ended, a loud, “Ow!” came from the field.

  Fraser High defender Addie Williams was stumbling toward the sideline, limping. Olivia and Caitlyn rushed over and helped her to the bench. She sat and grabbed her calf. “Ow, ow, ow.”

  Coach Berg walked over to where an athletic trainer had started stretching Addie’s leg.

  “Bad cramp,” Addie said, wincing.

  “Well, keep rubbing it out,” he said, handing her a Gatorade.”

  Faith’s heart sank as reality set in. He was going to sub her at defense, not midfield. He sometimes used Melody Ramirez at D if Faith wasn’t available. But Faith was always his first choice. Her heart sinking, she only half-listened as Coach Berg gave his usual halftime feedback. Afterward, he sat next to the athletic trainer and Addie, who was still wincing and rubbing her leg. Addie nodded in response to whatever question he asked her. Then she shook her head.

  No! Faith thought. Addie wasn’t retuning to the match.

  Coach stood and looked around. “Patel!”

  Faith wanted to cry.

  Then he shouted, “Ramirez!”

  Faith joined Coach and Melody. “Ramirez, go in for Williams. Patel, you’re at right mid.”

  Faith nodded. A relieved, “Thank you,” was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Just do your best. I hope you’ve been watching the game.”

  She nodded and trotted onto the field, feeling a ton of bricks on her shoulders. She knew Coach was evaluating her.

  Faith’s self-consciousness quickly evaporated as she got into the flow of the match. She kept her eyes on the ball and on her opposing midfielder, sprinting up and down the field. At first, the action wasn’t coming in their direction. But that suddenly changed when Olivia intercepted a Lake Valley striker. She passed to Madison at center mid. Faith quickly moved out toward the right sideline and sprinted behind the Lake Valley wide back. She watched over her shoulder as Madison dribbled upfield and passed to Elise at left. Elise passed a cross to Dayton Frey, the right forward. But Dayton was out of position, and the ball scooted past her.

  Faith was exactly where she needed to be to keep the ball inbounds. She stopped it under her foot. Two defenders were wedging themselves between Faith and Dayton, who hovered close to the goal. Pulling her leg back, Faith chipped the ball over the defenders’ heads. It was a perfect lob, but the ball fell from Dayton’s chest a little too far in front of her feet. A defender won their foot battle and stole it back for Lake Valley.

  Faith sprinted toward the center of the field, covering a Lake Valley midfielder. She tried to stay close, but the girl was quick.

  The Lake Valley player faked a move toward the sideline, and Faith followed. Then the girl twisted in the opposite direction. Now in the open, she called to her center midfielder, who passed her the ball. Cursing herself for being tricked, Faith charged. But she was too late to correct her mistake. The girl she should’ve been covering had already launched the ball to a striker, who sunk the ball into the Copperheads’ net.

  Amid loud cheers from the Lake Valley players, Faith heard, “Patel!” from the sidelines. Coach was waving her in.

  “Crap,” she muttered under her panting breath. She’d only played about fifteen minutes. But she understood. With the score tied, Coach wanted his regular players on the field. She trotted to the sideline and stood near Coach Berg, bracing for his feedback. But he was focused on the roster.

  Finally, he looked over and said, “I’ll talk to you later.”

  When the match resumed, Coach Berg returned his attention to the field, yelling directions at his players. Faith went back to the end of the bench and plunked down. Coach hadn’t sounded angry, but he hadn’t sounded happy, either. She’d made a good chip pass, but by not covering her mark, she’d allowed the other team to score.

  The game ended in a tie. Coach still hadn’t spoken to her. He looked so preoccupied. She figured he wouldn’t get around to it that day.

  As the Copperheads walked to the bus, Caitlyn suddenly appeared next to Faith. She tugged the back of Faith’s hair and chirped, “Midfield fail!”

  Faith slapped at Caitlyn’s hand. “Leave me alone!”

  “Hey!” Coach Berg yelled from behind them.

  Caitlyn let go, and the two girls twisted around.

  “Are you a third grader, Novak?”

  “No, Coach,” Caitlyn said.

  “Then act your age.” He stormed past them.

  As soon as he was gone, Caitlyn murmured, “Coach’s pet.” She puckered her lips at Faith and made wet kissing sounds.

  W

  hen the bus was a few miles from school, Faith called her mom. The family’s old Subaru was in the parking lot when the bus pulled in around nine thirty that night. Faith hung back for a few moments, until most of the girls had grabbed their stuff and stepped out, wanting to avoid another confrontation with Caitlyn.

  Her mom started the car before Faith had even shut the door. “It would help if you weren’t always the last person off the bus. I don’t like leaving the kids alone in the apartment.”

  “I know.” Faith leaned against the headrest. “But it’s like ten minutes at the most.”

  “Can’t you sit in the front of the bus?”

  Faith turned her head and looked at her mom. She was wearing her scrubs with teddy bears on them. “I’ll try.”

  “Did you win?”

  She looked out the windshield again. “No. We tied.”

  “Did you get to play?”

  Faith tapped her armrest. “I’m not getting a soccer scholarship, okay? Colleges don’t want benchwarmers with average grades.”

  “That’s not why I asked.” Her mom was quiet a moment. “But I do worry about your future.” She pulled up in front of the apartment building.

  “Yeah, well, I worry about it too.” Faith opened her door and jumped out.

  Leaning across the front seat, her mom said, “Antim’s getting a cold. I sent the boys to bed.”

  “And you think they’re still in bed now?” Faith shook her head. “See ya later.” She closed the door, and her mom drove off.

  Just as Faith expected, Vijay was sprawled on the living room couch, watching TV. But to her surprise, Antim was still in bed. She pressed her hand to his forehead. He felt warm.

  “Someone give you a germ at school, Ant Man?”

  He nodded under her hand.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay. Call if you need me.”

  Faith staggered into her bedroom and belly flopped onto her bed. Hamsa had the laptop propped on her knees. Faith knew she should check what her sister was looking at online, but she didn’t have the energy. Glimpses of the botched play churned in her head. She
felt Caitlyn yanking on her hair and heard Coach scolding Caitlyn. About to fall asleep, Faith pictured herself running and running. But she wasn’t sure if she was running away from something or toward something.

  “Faith.”

  Faith jerked awake. Antim stood next to her bed, sniffling. “I don’t feel good.”

  Faith patted her bed, and he climbed up with her. She held him in her lap until he went to sleep.

  . . .

  At school the next day, Faith slogged through morning classes. She hadn’t gotten any of her homework done. She’d given up on her nutrition paper since she’d missed last week’s deadline. She envied the kids who racked up A’s like easy soccer goals.

  Fifth period, Faith made sure she got to health class early. She knew Coach Berg didn’t like mixing teaching duties with coaching, but she was hoping he’d make an exception. She wanted his feedback on yesterday’s game while it was still fresh in his mind. If the news was bad, which it probably was, she wanted to get it over with.

  She sat at her desk along the wall, tapping her foot and twiddling her pencil. Coach Berg marched into class late, not giving Faith enough time to talk to him. She sighed and slumped in her seat.

  For the next fifty-five minutes, Faith watched Coach Berg lecture with the same intensity that he used in coaching. How in the world could Caitlyn think there was anything going on between them? He was all business, pacing from one side of the classroom to the other. He reminded Faith of a caged tiger. She laughed to herself at the thought of Coach Berg with orange fur and black stripes.

  “Patel? You’re smiling. Does that mean you know the answer?”

  Faith sat up straighter. “What? No.”

  Coach shook his head. He called on a girl who had her hand raised.

  Great. Faith sank back into her seat.

  The bell rang. As the classroom emptied, Coach said, “Remember, quiz tomorrow.”

  Faith grabbed her backpack and slowly approached his desk. He looked up from a paper he was marking. “Hey, Patel.”