Scoring Wilder

by R.S. Grey

  2. GOALS: Olympics and ULA training schedule –> NO TIME FOR GUYS!

  3. He's COMPLETELY off limits. (Kicked off team off-limits.) BACK AWAY FROM HIM STAT.

  Becca nodded and then grabbed the marker again.

  4. He's a badboy. (Reformed or not) Refer back to #1 and multiply it by ten.

  Then, finally, I wrote number five.

  5. He doesn't like me. And/or actively hates me.

  "Good work," Becca said, recapping the marker and propping the list up next to my dresser. "Doesn't it feel better already? I mean those are five solid reasons you should just forget about him altogether."

  "Exactly," I agreed, but my voice didn't seem very convincing. What the hell was wrong with me? Did he need to also be a crazy puppy killer before my libido finally said, all right maybe he’s not for you?

  "So, we can go to the costume party on Saturday and you don't even have to worry about him being there. Remember how he didn't show up until really late last weekend? I bet he won't show at all this time."

  Becca was just floundering at this point. She wanted to go to the LA Stars’ costume party because a) how many times in your adult life do you get to wear a costume? And b) she already planned on us dressing up as Superman and Batman... only the girl versions. We were going to get our costumes the next day.

  I couldn't tell her no just because I was scared Liam would show up. I'd just avoid him like he'd avoided me the entire week and we'd be fine.

  "Do you want me to erase the board?" she asked.

  I thought about it for a second. "No, just erase his name. I might need the reminders."

  …

  Friday after practice, Coach Davis called me into her office. Sitting on the opposite side of her desk was a handsome guy dressed in a suit with thick, black-framed glasses. I instantly recognized him. It was Brian King, an ex-professional soccer player that worked at ESPN as a news commentator. He had a face for TV, which is why the network had snatched him up as soon as he'd retired from soccer at the ripe age of 24. He'd torn his ACL for the second time and no amount of surgery could put him back in the game.

  "Kinsley, this is Mr. King," Coach Davis introduced us, and I reached forward to shake his hand. I was conscious of the fact that I'd just showered, so at least I didn't smell, but I was dressed in Nike shorts and a t-shirt while he was in a fitted suit. I felt out of my element to say the least.

  "It's nice to meet you, Mr. King.”

  "Oh, please call me Brian," he smiled.

  I took a seat next to him and turned my attention back to Coach Davis.

  "Brian is here because he'd like to do an interview with you about the upcoming season and your Olympic aspirations."

  I glanced quickly to Brian, who was offering me an easy smile. He really didn't seem like a bad guy, but I had no clue why he cared about me when there were probably hundreds of other girls in my same position.

  "Ohhkay," I nodded, waiting for more information.

  "I tried contacting your parents, but I thought since I was in the Los Angeles area, I might as well come down and meet you face to face," Brian explained.

  "So, are you interviewing other people from the team?" I asked.

  Brian shifted in his chair so that his body was aimed toward me rather than Coach Davis.

  "At this point, you'll be the only person being interviewed from ULA. We'll be covering five young Olympic hopefuls in the months leading up to tryouts. Our audience really enjoys getting to know athletes like yourself. It makes the Games much more fun to watch if fans know some details about their favorite athletes."

  "But I haven't made the team yet," I tried to argue. “Why do you want to interview me?”

  "You haven’t Googled yourself recently, have you?" Brian asked, clasping his hands on his lap and leaning toward me.

  "No," I answered truthfully, looking to Coach Davis for backup. She offered me a supportive smile and a small nod.

  Brian chuckled and then reached down into his briefcase.

  "Here's my card. I think we should schedule a time to get coffee sometime next week and we can discuss the interview in more detail." Then he stood, effectively ending the meeting.

  "Thank you for your time, Coach Davis. And Kinsley, I look forward to meeting with you next week." He smiled, a wide camera-ready smile, and then exited the office. His cologne lingered on the chair next to me and I sat for a moment, trying to let everything sink in.

  Coach Davis hopped up from her seat and came around her desk to sit beside me.

  "Kinsley, this is all up to you. If you don't want to do the interview, then I can send a polite rejection, claiming a busy practice schedule as an excuse."

  I shook my head and flipped Brian's business card over in my hand. His cell phone number, email, and office number were printed in bold black letters.

  "I just need to think about. I'm not sure if I'm ready for the spotlight." I wanted to add that I'd never be ready for public scrutiny. I was a private person when it came to most things. Not to mention, I still felt like I hadn't proved myself in the soccer world. I didn't want to have everyone expecting great things from me, especially not when I was already putting so much pressure on myself.

  "I think I'm going to go run for a bit," I declared, pushing off the leather seat and giving Coach Davis one final smile.

  "Don't push yourself too hard, you've already had a hard practice week," she answered.

  Not hard enough.

  When I got home after my run, Emily was in our bathroom washing her face.

  "Hey, Em," I smiled, sitting down and pulling off my running shoes. My shins hurt from running for so long, but I felt a thousand times better than I had after practice. Nothing cleared my head like running.

  "Hey, Kinsley," Emily said, moving into my room and sitting down against my door.

  We sat there in silence for a moment. She looked like she was thinking about something but was too scared to bring it up.

  "How's it going?" I asked with an encouraging tone.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and then finally looked up at me. "It's good... I just wanted to thank you for what you did on Wednesday morning. I know that you were just as tired as Becca and me."

  "It's not a big deal, Emily. Truth be told, I think the only reason you were involved is because Tara hates me and you and I are friends." I shrugged, trying to determine if that revelation upset her.

  "Yeah. I sort of put that together myself. It's worth it, you know. I mean you and Becca are really close, but I'm really glad we're friends, too, and if that means having to deal with Tara, then it's still worth it," Emily said with a small smile.

  Her words caught me by surprise and I couldn't help but feel a little bit emotional. Sure, Becca and I were closer, but Emily was the type of friend that you could always count on. Quiet, loyal— the type of friend that lasted through the years.

  "Can I hug you even though I'm super stinky?" I asked, already crawling toward her and leaping onto her lap.

  "Ewwww! You do smell!" Emily laughed, shoving me off her.

  "Sorry! Friends have to deal with stinky hugs. You asked for it!"

  A pounding came on the other side of my door.

  "Are you two in there having fun without me? What the hell! Open up!" Becca called. Emily and I moved forward and pulled the door open wide enough for Becca to sneak through.

  "Ew. What are you guys doing? It smells like rotten feet in here!"

  Becca scrunched her nose and pretended to pass out.

  "Oh, get over it! I'll go shower, okay? But don't leave! We have to plan our costumes for Saturday.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I was getting ready for the costume party on Saturday night when my phone vibrated with an incoming text.

  Josh: Heading to the party tonight?

  I’d completely forgotten about Josh in the recent days. My thoughts were spread thin, with Liam taking up nearly 99% of them. So naturally, Josh had been one of the first things to go. Now that I was co
nfronted with the idea of seeing him at the party¸ my first instinct was to ignore him all together. I didn’t want to be friends with him. I wanted to move on and concentrate on better things. But since ignoring people is generally frowned upon in our society, I shot him back a one worded reply. Compromise.

  Me: Yep.

  I dropped my phone and glanced down at my outfit. Becca and I had found matching SuperGirl and BatGirl shirts that cut off a few inches above our belly buttons. I'd paired mine with a red lycra skirt that was tight around my waist but then flared around my thighs. A short red cape and my white converse completed the look. I was glad Becca had enforced operation B.C. earlier in the week because my toned stomach now sported a healthy tan which made the outfit a little more sexy. Compared to what the other girls would be wearing tonight, it wasn't that bad.

  Becca was going for the full shebang. She looked awesome in her BatGirl shirt and black skirt. She had on black heels and a black cape and kept striking a super hero pose every time she entered my room.

  "Who's texting you?" she asked, doing a high kick and then pretending to punch my dresser. The costume was starting to go to her head.

  "Jeez! I'm glad you're wearing spanks or I would have just seen way too much of your bat cave!" I laughed as my phone buzzed again. I glanced down.

  Josh: Cool. It'll be smaller than last week's so I should be able to find you.

  "It's just Josh asking if we're going to the party," I answered.

  I didn't respond to his second text.

  "Ah, gross. That reminds me, should we review the five reasons that L is not worthy of your attention?" Becca asked, already bending down to retrieve the white board that I'd stashed under my bed the other day.

  "Nope!” I hopped up. “No. We're good. Honestly, I want to forget about soccer and everything else on my plate and just have fun. Okay?"

  Becca smiled and then spun around with karate hands. "Tonight we'll be SuperGirl and BatGirl and no one will even recognize us! We can do whatever we want!"

  I started laughing and pulled my dresser open to get some spanks for myself. I could already tell Becca and I would be spin-kicking the entire night and I didn't feel like flashing everyone my Lois Lane.

  Becca's phone buzzed just as I finished pulling them on.

  "Cab’s here! Wait, I mean, the BATMOBILE AWAITS!"

  "Okay, okay!" I ran over to open my bathroom door and shouted for Emily. "Em, are you sure you don't want to come with us? We can put together a cute costume really quick!" I knew the answer would be no. She'd told us yesterday when we invited her to go shopping that she was going to stay in and Skype with her boyfriend. We had, of course, made fun of her for having Skype sex, and she blushed for an hour straight. Seriously, it was just too easy.

  "Yeah, I'm sure. Call me if you guys need a ride or anything!" Emily answered, already sitting at her computer with Skype open.

  "Fiiiine, but don't forget to use protection... you don't want your computer getting a virus," I joked with a corny grin. Emily shot me the finger. Thatta girl.

  "You guys better be glad that I'm not on a call with him yet or I would have killed you!" she yelled as I started to back away.

  "Yeah, yeah. We're leaving. Adios!" I said, trailing after Becca.

  Before we ran downstairs, we checked ourselves out really quick in my mirror one last time. My long brown hair was hanging down my back and framing my delicate features. Not bad at all. Becca's cropped blonde hair was sexy and cute.

  "Let's do this!" I shouted, grabbing Becca's hand and pulling her down the stairs and out to the cab. We piled in and gave directions to the cabbie.

  "So are you going to hangout with Jace again?" I asked.

  "Who?" Becca quirked a brow, and for a second I really didn't think she remembered him.

  "You're kind of the definition of a tease, Becca. You flirt with guys and then you leave them high and dry."

  "It's not like that! I have to test the waters first."

  "But you thought Jace was cute, right?"

  "He was fine, but I tried to make jokes and he didn't get a single one. He did that awkward thing where he'd chuckle slowly with a confused expression. I wanted to smack him in the forehead and walk away."

  I laughed. "Okay, so you want someone cute and funny? That's not so hard."

  She scoffed. "You'd be surprised.”

  "We're here, ladies," the cabbie offered politely. We tipped him well and then hopped out of the car. The house was quiet from the street, but as we walked closer to the front door, you could hear the bass from the music growing louder and louder. We pushed the door open and stepped inside. Immediately I was greeted by a group of girls I didn't recognize. They were all dressed up as the same theme: M&Ms. But let me clarify: they were actually wearing skin tight spandex dresses with tiny "M&M's" printed over their boobs.

  "Great, now I want some M&Ms,” I said while throwing my hands up.

  “No time for sweets whilst crime runs rampant!” Becca declared dramatically.

  "C'mon, let's see who all is here," I said, which we both knew was code for: let's find out if the seniors and/or Liam are anywhere in sight so we could strategically avoid them the entire night.

  We continued into the party, stepping into the living room that had been transformed into a techno-infused dance floor.

  "Now the age old question: do we want to get a drink now or wait until we find the seniors and then drown our sorrows while they scheme their next plan to take us down?"

  "Now," I answered, heading in to the kitchen. There were costumed people everywhere. The usual suspects were present: pirates, ninjas, even a weird clown, but then there was a group of guys dressed up like princesses. I'm pretty sure some of them were even wearing heels.

  Becca and I located the table of liquor. In the very center there was an igloo with a sombrero and mustache haphazardly glued on.

  "I guess they even dressed up the punch?"

  "Hah. Funny," Becca answered, grabbing two cups. A little card next to the punch clarified that we’d be drinking “El Puncho”.

  Once we were armed with drinks in hand, we started the hunt for the seniors. We checked outside first. Just like last week, there was a keg and beer pong tables. We wandered through the crowd and then looped back around toward the house.

  No seniors.

  Then we went back inside and checked in the kitchen and living room again. Still, we didn’t spy them.

  Could we have lucked out?

  "I don’t think they're here," I shrugged with a sly smile.

  "I can drink to that!" Becca exclaimed. We hit the lips of our solo cups together in a “cheers” and then downed the rest of the punch we'd been nursing during our search.

  "Let's go easy on the punch," I warned, but Becca was already busy refilling our cups. Welp, I can’t say I didn’t try to warn her.

  "Kinsley!" My name rang out behind me, and I spun around to find Josh heading toward us. He was dressed as a race car driver in a bright red jumpsuit with patches up and down the arms. The front of the jumpsuit zipped all the way down his torso and he'd left the first few inches open at the top so that his tanned chest shown through.

  "Hi Josh," I offered politely, reaching for my cup of punch and taking a big sip. I didn’t think going easy on it was such a good idea anymore.

  "You guys look great," he smiled, taking in my SuperGirl outfit with blatant lust.

  "This is Becca," I said, motioning to where she was standing.

  "Hey, nice to meet you, Becca. Do you play on the ULA team as well?" he asked with a smile, ignoring her obvious disdain. Josh was a charmer. He could stand there and pretend like we were just friends, like nothing had even happened between us. It was almost eerie.

  "Yup," Becca answered brusquely, and then turned away. I had to fight to keep from laughing.

  Josh nodded his head, his smile falling a fraction of an inch. "Well, I'm going to go say hi to some teammates, but will you stay in here? I'll come back and find you
so we can dance."

  I couldn't form words because I was busy tipping back more of my punch, so I just gave him a thumbs up.

  When he walked away, Becca turned toward me with a quizzical brow. "We're not actually staying in here, right?"

  I smiled. "Hell no. Let's go dance."

  It was perfect timing. I'd had just enough punch to make me feel silly and loose, but not enough to where I thought break dancing was a good idea. That usually came after about one more cup. Becca pulled me through the kitchen and back toward the living room. More people were dancing now and somehow we got sucked into a random group of girls that were dancing in a circle.

  I had no clue who any of them were, but at a party it seems like names are less important than showing off a badass dance move. I'd just finished what I assumed to be a flawless rendition of twerking á la Miley when I looked up and saw Liam across the room.

  My gut clenched.

  He wasn’t there when we’d done our initial search of the party. Oh, but now the bastard was definitely there and he was definitely standing against the wall chatting with a girl. I couldn't pull my focus away even as the dancing continued around me. I was frozen as I watched him with her. They weren't standing close. He was leaning his shoulder against the wall, and she had her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed as a slutty pirate or maybe a slutty penguin. I couldn't tell the difference from where I was standing. Anyway, she looked gorgeous and I couldn't help but feel a tight twist in my gut. It was the same feeling that I had when I'd walked in on Josh cheating on me, but this was worse. More visceral and out of my control.

  It seemed insane. After all, I'd made a joke when I walked in on Josh. Hell, I hadn't even shed a tear. But now, as I stood there watching Liam just talking to another girl, I had the urge to do something crazy like fight her or yell at him. I hadn't even yelled at Josh. I'd spoken to him harshly. But if Liam had walked up to me then, I would have thrown blows.