Big Chicas Don't Cry(27)

“Two weeks already? Damn. I thought I had more time. I’ll probably just wear something I already have.”

Selena scoffed. “Seriously? Don’t say such horrifying things to me so early in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes as I packed my sports bag with my cleats and extra hand towels. “Whatever, Ms. I-work-at-a-fancy-advertising-agency-and-make-the-buku-bucks. Some of us can’t always afford to buy a new outfit for every occasion.”

“Can’t or won’t? You could always find a better-paying job, or do what Mari did and marry rich.”

So many sore subjects were in that sentence. “Not funny, Selena,” I said.

“Speaking of Mari, my mom says she RSVP’d for two for the quince.”

It was my turn to scoff. “Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when I see it. I gotta go or else I’ll be late.”

As I drove to the soccer field, I tried to shake the simmering annoyance at the thought that Mari might go to the party. I should’ve been happy that she was finally going to show up to a family function. Instead, I was angry. Now, my cousins and my tía and tío and everyone else had hope they might see her. But I knew better.

If I’d pushed down any of that irritation during the drive, it came roaring back with a vengeance when I got a text from Charlie just as I pulled into the parking lot in front of the soccer field. He wanted to meet with me and Adrian first thing the next morning.

Well, fuck.

That meant the Pinche Asshole had told him about what happened on Thursday.

I yanked my bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car. As I walked to the field, I called Adrian every bad word I could think of. In fact, I was still cursing his name when I thought I saw a guy who looked like him, in my team’s uniform, kicking a ball around with Mark.

It couldn’t be him. There was no way.

You’re just seeing things because you’re so mad at him right now.

But the closer I got, the more it looked like him. And then the sinking realization hit me.

It was him.

Deanna ran up to me just as I dropped my bag in shock.

“I swear I didn’t know,” she cried. “I swear on my life.”

I just kept shaking my head. “What? How? What the fuck?”

“Apparently, he lives in those new town houses on the other side of the field, and he stopped by to watch the game last Sunday. Remember, I didn’t come last week either? Anyway, Mark told me that he’d recruited a new player, but I swear I didn’t know it was him until we got here and he introduced himself.”

How could this be happening?

“Does he know I’m on the team?”

She nodded furiously. “He does now. As soon as Mark heard him tell me that he worked at the News-Press, he told him about you. Mark had no idea, either, that he was your Adrian, you know, Pinche Asshole Adrian.”

“He’s not my Adrian. Shit. I didn’t tell you everything that happened last Thursday. It’s gotten way worse between us, Deanna. How can I be on the same team as him?”

She hugged me and whispered, “Please. I know this sucks. But we need you. Plus, who knows? Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

It was.

The Pinche Asshole barely acknowledged me with a nod when I finally got the nerve to join the rest of the team on the sidelines. I mumbled a quick “hey” before heading out to the field to practice some goal kicks. But just knowing he was nearby, probably watching me and judging me, threw me off my game. It was as if I hadn’t kicked a ball in my entire life.

And once the actual game started, it didn’t get much better.

Adrian was our new forward. He ran fast, but he was a complete ball hog. Poor Mark and our other forward, Saul, might as well have sat out the first quarter. By halftime, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

After taking two long gulps of my water, I walked over to Adrian, who had sat down on a nearby bleacher.

“So can I talk to you?” I asked after he finally looked up at me with squinted eyes.

“Sure. What’s up?”

Oh, nothing much, except you’re making me hate a game that I’ve been playing since I was a kid.

“This isn’t the newsroom. You do realize that you’re not the boss of everyone on the field, right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, you’re not the only forward we got. This is a team. You don’t need to try to score every single goal. Pass the ball once in a while, for Christ’s sake.”

Adrian stood up. “If I have the best shot, I’m going to take it. I won’t apologize for trying to win.”

“But see, that’s the point. You don’t always have the best shot. Be man enough to accept that and give it to someone who does. Or else we won’t win. Simple as that.”

I didn’t wait for him to respond. I didn’t trust myself, because I was too angry.

And I only got angrier.

It was as if he hadn’t heard me at all. He continued trying to score every time he touched the ball. Not only that, but the other team regrouped and was getting closer to our goal with every possession. They kept putting the pressure on me and the other defenders, and with only a few minutes left, they were given a corner kick. I took position near the goal and yelled at Adrian and Mark to move up.