The Stand-In Boyfriend (Grove Valley High #1)(58)
“Liv,” he coaxes, and I realize he wants an answer.
“Because I love it,” I tell him.
His face breaks out into a grin. “And that’s why you’re here, Liv. That’s all you have to remember.”
“But I don’t know if I can do this.”
“I know you can.”
“It’s hard, Chase.”
“I know. I get it.” I actually believe him; he’d get it over anyone else. “But it’ll only be tough until you get out there. As soon as the whistle blows and you kick that ball for the first time, everything else will fade away.”
I stare into his vivid green eyes, full of warmth and concern, and I realize he’s right. He’s completely right.
“Thanks, Chase.” I smile at him.
He leans his forehead against mine just as a wave of noise hits us and the sound of multiple pairs of feet hitting the tiles fills the space.
“Jeez, Chapman, if you wanted to skip warm-up and make out with your boyfriend, you should have just said.”
I manage a small smile and turn to face Tia, who has a huge smirk on her face. Hallie nudges her in the arm. “You okay?” she asks me.
I nod my head. “Yeah, I think I am.”
Two hours later, I’m exhausted. I have run every inch of this pitch at least ten times and have the scars to prove I’m leaving it all out here. My knees are scraped from the tackles I’ve made to the ground, I have what will surely develop into a black eye after taking an elbow to the face from a defender, and my once white shirt is now coated in mud, but I don’t care. I don’t care because this is why I play soccer. This is why I’ve worked my ass off for the last three years and why I insisted on those extra morning practices. This, because now in extra time with the score tied at two goals apiece and only minutes left, it’s our team that has the edge. We’re not cramping up or running out of speed. We’re still taking shots and hunting down the ball. We have this because we’re ready.
It hasn’t been an easy game, not by any stretch of the imagination. The opposing team is good. They’re fearless and strong, and they take their chances when they appear, but we’re better. I have no doubt in my mind that we’re better than them, and I just know we can do this.
I hear a shout and turn my body to see Tia dashing away from a midfielder, the ball at her feet. I start to run, gritting my teeth and ignoring the burning in my legs. We’ve practiced this so many times in training that I know exactly where she’s going to put it. I need to get closer to the goal. The ball drops inches in front of me and I’m now within shooting distance. A defender is on me instantly and I arch my upper body, trying to protect myself and keep my balance as she tries to hack at my legs from behind. Another of her teammates joins her and I’m outnumbered, but I know this is it. The roar of the crowd tells me it is. They know this is our chance. The whistle is about to be blown and if we don’t score again, we’re going to penalties, and I’m not having that. Penalties are no way to settle this. You can just get lucky or unlucky when scoring penalties, and I’m not willing to let the championship come down to luck. We deserve this. My teammates and I deserve this. We deserve to be the state champions so we’re going to be the state champions, and not so I can get into college and not for a scholarship, not for anyone else. I’m going to do this because I love soccer and I’m going to make sure we win.
I tap the ball forward with my right leg, pushing it away from the defender before quickly maneuvering my body so when I then kick forward with my left leg, the ball nutmegs an opposing player. While another lunges for me, I skip forward and suddenly have some space, and even though there’s no time to waste, I see everything in slow motion. I see the cheerleaders screaming for us from the sideline, Sophie jumping up and down and demanding that I shoot. I see my coach clutching his assistant’s arm, his eyes trained on the ball at my feet but not uttering a word. I see the fans in the stands, more people than we’ve ever played in front of, all watching in anticipation, and I imagine my mom, Ray, and Scotty with their hearts in their throats. I see Jessie willing us on and Chase and his friends screaming for me louder than anyone else.
I turn my head back to the goal and see it’s crowded in front. I see Hallie by the goalpost screaming at me to pass her the ball but being crowded by two defenders. I see Maria trying to get away from her defender, shoving at the girl to give her space, and without turning around I know the rest of my teammates are racing toward the goal, trying to give me options, but they have too many people in the penalty box. If I launch the ball in, there will be too many pairs of legs swiping at it, too many people who could get the goal in the back of the net or launch it back downfield to where our defenders have left the space empty, meaning they could score on the counterattack. The defender I managed to escape is looming down on me, lunging for the ball, and I know it’s now or never.
I pull my leg back, keeping my eyes on the top corner where I know I need to place the ball if we’re going to win this match, kick my leg forward as hard as I can, connecting with the ball on the inside of my foot, and I aim for raw power as I launch it as hard as I can. Time slows down as I watch it sail through the air, as it beats the two defenders at the near post and their goalkeeper flies through the air. Her fingers graze the edge of the ball, but not enough to push it from its path. It’s not enough to push it out of the top right corner or stop it from flying into the back of the net.