Ryan Hunter

was dragged to a halt, too. The two of them stared at me like I’d just told them that aliens had landed on the school’s roof. It didn’t bother me. I had plans. Pulling my arm away from Liza, I made sure to skim my fingers through her soft ponytail. Then I gave her my sweetest you-have-all-my-attention smile. “Play with me?”
    Tony looked seriously surprised, but the dude better shut up now and let her answer.
    She seemed a bit uncertain, but finally she drawled, “O– kay .”
    Holy cow, that was it! She’d chosen my team over Tony’s. I felt the urge to victory-punch the air.
    Tony clapped his hands once, obviously approving. “Cool. Let’s play some ball, guys,” he exclaimed and ran ahead, starting to pick his players.
    We followed him at a slow stroll, and I took the chance to ask, “Do you know how to play soccer, Matthews?”
    She shrugged and gave me a wry smile. “Kick the ball into the goal?”
    “Yeah, that and a little more.” I chuckled. So we were facing a small problem here. I rubbed my neck, feeling a bit lost because there was not enough time to lay out all the rules to her. “For now, just don’t touch the ball with your hands and try not to kick it past those white lines.”
    When I pointed out the boundary lines to her, she frowned at me . “You know, I’m not a complete imbecile.”
    I knew that. But I also knew that she’d never played soccer before. But the hell with it, today it wasn’t about winning. It was only about having Liza on my team. And to my shocked surprise, she played a good game. Her kicks were hard, and she didn’t catch the ball with her hands, when it came racing her way. In fact, she ducked twice to avoid getting hit instead of stopping it, but that was okay.
    After the first half, Liza even did a solo-run toward the goal parallel to Susan Miller, who played for Tony’s team today. The book lover dropped back, and several guys shouted, “Offside!”
    Liza stopped before the goal, her sweet face knitted with confusion. I headed over, grabbing the ball, and gave her an encouraging smile. “Never mind. I’ll explain this tomorrow.” Kicking the soccer ball to Ramirez, I cast a glance back over my shoulder and praised her, “Nice shot.”
    She didn’t take that last incident well. Actually, it seemed to have taken all the spirit out of her, and she kept a low profile somewhere at the back of the grounds. With some kicks toward her, I tried to get her back into the game, but she didn’t make it easy for me. And then a collision with Cloey did the rest.
    I didn’t see exactly if it was an accident or a deliberated foul, but Liza dropped to the grass, holding her shin, moaning something awful.
    “Come on, guys! Play fair!” I shouted, staking Cloey with a hard glare as I jogged over to Liza. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her up. “You okay?”
    She only nodded, but her eyes were glistening with tears. I knew if I tended to her now, she’d just feel all the more embarrassed, so I let it go. But I kept a close eye on her.
    It didn’t take long until Cloey fouled her again, but this time Liza let go of a round of cussing that made the toughest guys on our team turn her way, looking impressed. Me, too. It was clear that Cloey went after Liza for a reason, so I grabbed the girl by her arm after the game and told her in no uncertain terms that fouling team members was off the mark and that she’d be off the team if she didn’t take my advice. Seriously pissed, Cloey went straight for the parking lot, driving off with screeching tires, which was fine with me. She was a good player, but if she caused a riot in my team, I wouldn’t hesitate to kick her out.
    I guessed Liza had left while I dealt with Cloey and returned to the bench to grab my backpack, but luckily she hadn’t. She came walking my way when I turned around, but she also had company. Tony was with her, and I wondered if this was my fault. If Cloey hadn’t been off so fast, he might be leaving the grounds with her and not with Liza. I gritted my teeth, cast a quick look at her leg that had already taken on a nice shade of blue, and said, “Pu t ice on that ankle. I want you fit tomorrow.”
    Jealous to a point where I hated myself, I didn’t wait for her to respond, just walked off to my car and drove home. I told myself that they wouldn’t be hanging out all evening, that they probably just rode home together. But in my head I couldn’t get rid of the image of Mitchell tending to