Ryan Hunter

was a little skeptical. We’d never played with girls before. They were fragile and breakable and definitely should not be out on the field with us rowdy guys.
    “Hi, Hunter,” two girls from my chemistry class greeted me.
    “Hi, Brinna. Hi, Cloey,” I said without stopping to talk to the two blondes. Cloey Summers was a capable player from what I’d seen the past three days on the other field, and Brinna McNeal seemed glued to her heel, no matter what.
    For the sake of everyone’s bones, the guys and I toned it down a little as we started the first match. Maybe this was foolish of us, because before the first half was over, Cloey had fouled me three times, and I don’t mean gentle, womanly fouls. Twice she rammed into me full speed and the last time she’d hooked her right leg around my ankle so that I went sailing a couple yards before I belly-flopped onto the grass.
    I took a moment to pump air into my lungs again then climbed to my feet and headed toward her. Since she almost matched my six foot two, I could easily press my brow to hers and growl in her face. “Ah, you’re such a lady , Summers.”
    “Sorry, did I hurt your feelings?” she countered with a grin that sat custom made for trouble on her lips. “Can we continue with the game now, or do you need a minute to catch your breath, Hunter?”
    I had known that girl my whole life, since she lived only three streets away from me, and she’d never interested me one bit. But her aggressive style left an impression that day, and after two weeks of occasionally playing with the girls, I decided to chew through a topic with the guys on my team.
    The Teen Spirit was the place where we would talk tonight. We hadn’t gone in there since our first night out, and I wondered if Sandy and her lionesses would be around again. Guilty of the stupid lie with the girlfriends, I had a queasy feeling as we walked through the door. The feeling grew when we spotted the girls hanging out by the bar.
    Very much to Frederickson’s dismay, we chose a table at the far end of the room. The place was packed on this Saturday night, and so we lost those junior chicks easily enough.
    “I was thinking,” I started, only to be immediately interrupted by Alex.
    “Hear, hear!”
    “Shut up, Winter!” I punched him on the shoulder. “So, what do you think about a co-ed team back home?”
    All seven leaned forward to rest their arms on the table. “What?”
    “Not for all the time. But you saw that playing with them wasn’t half-bad. I was thinking we could split the training time. Half time with and half time without the chicks.”
    “If they agree, anyway,” Tony pointed out.
    “I saw Cloey Summers and her friends near the entrance when we came in. If you’re cool with the idea, I’ll get them and we can discuss this together.”
    There was a collective silence. Slowly, grins began to grow in their faces. “Sounds like a plan to me. I’m in,” Frederickson said.
    I knew he was swayed easily because, of all of us, he seemed to have the most fun with the girls.
    Mitchell pulled a skeptical face. “I don’t know about this. I mean, they would never play any big games with us, anyway, so why sacrifice training time?”
    “We might not play big games with them, but I know that Hamilton High has a co-ed team, too, and unless I’m very much mistaken, so do the Riverfalls Rabid Wolves. They are two teams we could invite for a friendly game once in a while.” Then I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “If it helps, you can ask your girlfriend to join the team as well.”
    “Who? Liz? ” He made a baffled face. “She’d rather touch a leper than a soccer ball. And she’s not my girlfriend.”
    “Yeah, right,” I teased him, but to hear the truth out of my friend’s mouth felt unspeakably good. “So, do we ask the girls now or not?”
    The guys agreed as one. I got to my feet and headed over to the bar where I had last glimpsed Cloey, Brinna, and three other girls from our school. Tough luck. And right next to them stood Sandy and the junior chicks. Sandy saw me walking closer, and the fact that I was alone seemed to make her happy. Her smile moved into place, and she said hi to me.
    “Hey, Sandy.”
    “No girlfriend again?” It sounded like a mix of accusation for the lie I had told her and delight about finding me still single.
    I didn’t want to give her false hope, and more importantly, I didn’t want to spend the next hour fending her off