Ryan Hunter

good idea, because her gaze so obviously wandered up to my chaotic hairstyle then snapped back to my face as though she was caught ogling. I didn’t mind. If she liked what she saw, she could happily stare at me all day.
    With a confident feeling in my gut, I decided that things were going to change today. Radically .
    “Good luck, Matthews.” I gave her the sticker, which she popped on the upper curve of her left boob and rubbed it smooth.
    Holy penalty kick, she shouldn’t do this to me . My eyes fastened on that same spot while my mouth watered so badly I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to say anything else without drooling all over her.
    Fortunately, she didn’t pay attention to my sudden lack of composure but turned around and headed back to Tony. Pulling myself together fast, I nodded a greeting at my friend then cleared my throat…several times. “Okay, everybody. For a little warm-up, I want you to run three laps around the field then come back here,” I shouted over the murmurs.
    After some protesting moans, the crowd got moving. Susan left her post to join in the warm-up, and I jogged over to run with her. “Thanks for your help,” I told her. “That’s really cool of you.”
    “Yeah, sure. No problem.” She gasped for air as we ran then continued. “As long as that gives me a special status for the tryouts, we’re fine.”
    She made me laugh. In fact, I was thinking about it already. Though I had no idea how she’d handle the ball, I thought it would be fun to have an up-front girl like her on the team. “Don’t you worry about that, Miller. If you can hit a ball with your foot, we’re good.”
    I left her side after the first lap and sat on the small table with Alex and Frederickson, watching how some of the girls already fought for air.
    “Tony’s girl is going to collapse before she makes the three rounds,” Frederickson stated, and I automatically scanned the girls for Cloey. But she ran like a pro. Then of course, to everyone else Tony’s girl would still be Liza. I found her more crawling than jogging next to Mitchell, totally red in the face, and panting like a tank engine.
    “Damn. That’s not good,” I mumbled.
    “Why?” Alex wanted to know.
    “Because last night, Tony asked me to take her on the team.” And of course, I would have done so even if I had to give her a piggy ride to master just the warm-up.
    “Well then, I guess you have to be gentle on her.” Alex laughed and pushed away from the table. Something told me that his joke was in fact on me.
    After most of the girls had finished the three laps, I started a goal contest with them. Everybody had to score at least one. Three points if the first kick was a goal. None, if they didn’t manage to get the ball past Frederickson even on the third try. Of course, Frederickson wasn’t giving his best today. It was more like fifteen percent of what he was capable off, but we didn’t want to win a match today, we wanted to restock the team. So, fifteen percent was good.
    I got a little excited as numbers forty to forty-six took their turns. Next would be Liza, and I couldn’t wait to practice goal kicking with her. But when I turned around, she was sitting on the ground and talking to Mitchell who handed her a drink in a paper cup. I had always been cool with him being her companion, best friend, playmate, whatever. It had gotten on my nerves, but I had never said a word. However, since last night—since Tony had told me he was seriously involved with Cloey—I was more jealous than ever. At their tiniest touch, the urge to hit something hard rose within me. This was a serious problem, and I could only hope that Mitchell would come out with the truth fast. She would see him with different eyes then. With eyes that didn’t bear this romantic, dreamy take-me-now look any longer.
    “Matthews! Your turn!” I yelled, suppressing my jealousy, and kicked the ball toward her. She turned around and caught the ball to her chest. Good reflexes. There was definitely some potential in that.
    I waited next to the goal while she placed the ball in the grass then kicked it with mild power toward Frederickson. The tall guy didn’t have to move an inch to stop the ball. In fact, it died on the way toward the goal and looked like it needed reanimation. Damn, kicking wasn’t Liza’s strength.
    “Come on, Matthews!” I shouted as I picked up the ball and jogged over to them. She looked like she was going to capitulate. Sweat