Campus Player
With a whoop of excitement, Sydney jumps on my back and wraps her arms around my neck. “That last play was so awesome! You are so the freaking woman!”
Giddiness bubbles up inside me. The adrenaline rush from a hard-fought win is like nothing else. Not even sex can top it.
“Did you notice that the campus hunk was in the stands?”
It would be impossible not to notice. There is an energy surrounding him that sets the fine hair on my arms on edge. Without searching him out, I would know he was there. That being said, there’s no way in hell I’ll admit that to Sydney.
“I’m sorry, who are you talking about?”
“Please girl,” she snickers, not fooled in the slightest by my nonchalant attitude. “Nice try.”
I snort as the edges of my lips curl upward.
She cranes her head. “I guess Justin put the final nail in his coffin by not showing, huh?”
“The nail was already there. It’s better this way. I don’t want to feel bad about breaking things off.” I scour the stands one last time to make sure he didn’t show up late and notice that Ethan is sitting with a couple of other baseball guys.
So much for study hours. It only reinforces my decision to cut him loose and move on.
“You didn’t tell me that you worked everything out with Ethan.”
“That’s because I didn’t.” All of her previous excitement drains away.
“And yet he still showed up.” See? Now that’s a guy who is interested. One who takes the time out of his own busy schedule to support his girl.
Sydney shrugs before glancing over her shoulder. “Yeah.” Her voice softens. “He did.”
“That deserves a few brownie points in my book.” I wince and slam my mouth shut. What the hell am I doing? I shouldn’t be encouraging those two. They need to go their separate ways.
“Maybe.”
As I cart Sydney to the locker room, someone knocks into me from behind, and I stagger a couple of steps before righting myself. With my roommate clinging to my back like a baby rhesus monkey, that could have ended disastrously.
I stare at the leggy auburn-haired girl as she strides past us. Her lips curl with scorn.
Annica.
The junior soccer player has turned out to be a real pain in the ass. I’m unsure what happened for her to direct so much hate my way. When Annica came in as a freshman, I took her under my wing and mentored her. We got to know each other pretty well and spent a lot of time together. We’re both forwards, and for a while, we worked really well together. We were an unstoppable duo.
Until we weren’t.
I blinked, and suddenly everything was a competition both on and off the field. It’s gotten to the point of uncomfortableness. I’ve tried ignoring her, hoping she would grow up and realize we’re on the same team, but my silence has had the opposite effect and emboldened her.
“Oops, sorry.” The smirk tells me that she’s not the least bit remorseful and her bumping into me wasn’t an accident.
“Watch where you’re going,” Sydney snaps.
As captain, I try to lead by example. That tactic hasn’t worked with Annica. She’s mistaken my silence for weakness. I’m not delusional enough to think that all twenty-six girls on this team will mesh, but we need to work together for the greater good. I’ve attempted to put the best interest of this team above my own personal feelings for any one individual.
A couple of younger players flank Annica. I’ve noticed that she’s become the piped piper for the freshman and sophomore girls. It’s like she’s carefully gathering forces for a coup. Any day, they’ll come for me, and I’ll be beheaded.
“Didn’t I tell you from day one that girl would be a problem?” Sydney mutters.
It’s warily that I watch both her and her minions strut their stuff to the locker room. Even though it pains me to do so, I have to begrudgingly give Sydney credit where it’s due. She was spot on in her assessment. My bestie took an instant dislike to Annica and kept trying to tell me that the younger girl was playing me like a fiddle. I thought Sydney was paranoid (maybe a little jealous) and refused to listen.
“Yup, you did.”
“One of these days, you’re going to have to knock her down to size.”
A sigh escapes from my lips with the realization that she’s not wrong. As much as I’m dreading a confrontation with the other girl, it’s been brewing for a while. And I can’t let it go much longer. Teams that are fractured from within don’t bring home championships.
And this is my senior year. Maybe the last one I have to play soccer. So, coming in second or losing in the playoffs isn’t an option.
We either get our shit together or we don’t bother at all.