Play With Me

lopsided…like Hunter’s.
    I grunted, aware
of my lack of focus, as I ushered Tony out of my room. As he climbed down the
shed and I closed the window, I wondered where Mom kept the clinical
thermometer. I sure must be suffering from a high fever.

 
     
     
    CHAPTER
    9
     
     
    TUESDAY, TWO
THIRTY P.M., I pedaled my mountain-bike to the soccer training field. Susan
rode along with me, and we were the last to arrive. After securing my bike, my
gaze swept over the trimmed lawn in search of Tony. He stood on the far end
with a small group of girls and boys. I started toward him, but when one of his
friends headed away, I glimpsed Cloey there and decided to miss out on their
doubtlessly entertaining conversation.
    It didn’t take long
until Tony spotted me and excused himself from the group. Barbie grabbed his
biceps, saying something to him, pointing an eerie scowl in my direction. I
glared back, feeling an overwhelming need to flip her off. But I was grown-up
enough to resist.
    Thankfully, I
couldn’t hear what she said to Tony; I was so not interested. But that he
rolled his eyes at her and pried her hand from his arm was highly satisfying.
    He jogged over.
“Hi, Liz. Are those shades new?”
    Yeah, good
feeling that the guy knew my entire collection of clothes and accessories.
Meant he paid attention. I grinned.
    “Nope, they’re
mine,” Hunter said behind me. When he came around to face me and carefully slid
the sunglasses off my nose, I couldn’t stop my smirk from spreading into a real
smile.
    “He gave me them
after the party,” I told Tony, who suddenly looked a bit puzzled. “Hangover and
sunlight—not a good combination.”
    Both boys
laughed at that, and I had a hard time deciding which sound pleased me more.
    As we headed
toward the gathering group of kids, Ryan asked Tony if he wanted to be captain
of the other team.
    “Sure. Want to
vote players?” Tony’s eyes skated over to me. A wink said I was one of his
first choices.
    “Yep, you can
pick first,” Ryan said to him then laid his arm over my shoulders. “But not
her.”
    Stunned, I
stopped, and I swore Tony stared at Hunter with the same look of amazement as I
did.
    Ryan ignored
him. His arm slipped away from me, and the left side of his lips tilted up.
“Play with me?”
    Man, I lost my
voice. Hunter knew how miserably I handled the ball. Still, he wanted me on his
team.
    Tony awaited my
answer with a comical grin. Since he didn’t seem annoyed at all, I thought I
could as well accept. “O- kay .” And yeah, if that hadn’t come out so much
like a question, I wouldn’t have sounded like a total idiot, too.
    “Cool. Let’s
play some ball, guys.” Tony jogged ahead and had his first pick of players.
    I didn’t pay
attention to who he called on his team, because Hunter asked me one basic
question then. “Do you know how to play soccer, Matthews?”
    “Kick the ball
into the goal?”
    He chuckled,
rubbing his neck. “Yeah, that and a little more. For now, just don’t touch the
ball with your hands and try not to kick it past those white lines.” He pointed
at the rectangle marking the playing field.
    “You know, I’m not
a complete imbecile.”
    Or maybe I was.
Before the first ten minutes were over, I hurt my wrist on the ball zooming
toward me, and twice it went sailing far behind the opposite goal, due to a
kick of mine. Great. But on the plus side, no one snubbed at me like Ryan did
yesterday on the beach.
    At least no one
did until I apparently made the most fatal error of all when I aimed for a goal
again.
    “Offside,”
several guys shouted at once, some of them rolling their eyes.
    I stood totally
at a loss.
    “Never mind.
I’ll explain this tomorrow,” Ryan said as he came running toward me and kicked
the ball to someone from Tony’s team. He took position on the field again, but not
before he offered me a grin. “Nice shot.”
    He could try,
but it didn’t lift my spirits. Discouraged from the failures, I went to the far
back, close to our own goal, deciding to be the passive player for the rest of
the game. Only that Hunter had different ideas. For some reason he kept me in
the game, sending killer-shots to me, spurring me on to give my best.
    And I did. For
three and a half minutes. Then I felt for the first time how a kick against the
shin felt. The pain, when Cloey’s shoe collided with my leg, brought me to the
ground. I bit my lip to stop my eyes from watering.
    “Come on, guys!
Fair play!”