Campus Player

Not that Annica deserves it, but I’m trying to be a good leader and extend an olive branch. Unfortunately, I can’t do it alone. Annica needs to let go of her anger and meet me halfway.

Thick tension crackles in the air as a myriad of expressions flicker across her face. I have no idea if anything I’ve said has resonated with her. A tiny burst of hope rises in me as she takes a step forward, closing some of the distance that separates us. Instead of giving me a tentative smile, the edges of her lips sink into an ugly scowl as her eyes narrow.

Any hope I’d been harboring bursts like an overinflated balloon. I don’t need to hear her response to realize my words have fallen on deaf ears. I should have known that sorting out our issues wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing with this girl is simple. By the furious expression twisting her normally pretty features, it becomes clear that I underestimated how deep her loathing goes. I would be lying if I didn’t admit I’m a little taken aback by the hatred.

My muscles stiffen as she takes another quick step in my direction until we’re practically standing toe to toe. I’m tempted to retreat but refuse to give her the satisfaction of thinking she can intimidate me.

“You’re right. I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you.” A nasty smile flits across her face. “Guess what? Most of the girls on the team don’t. You think you’re so damn special, but the truth of the matter is that you’re not nearly as good as you think you are. If you had any brains whatsoever, you would do us all a favor and quit.”

What the fuck?

My mouth drops open as my heart riots painfully beneath my ribcage. Her behavior on Saturday night pales in comparison to the vitriol pouring from her mouth.

My mind blanks.

When I remain silent, a victorious light fills her eyes. “The fact that you’re a captain and a starter is the biggest joke of all.” Her upper lip curls maliciously. “You strut around like you’re some big shit when you’re really nothing. It’s pathetic. Know what the funniest thing is?” Before I can answer, she continues. “Everyone seems to know it but you.”

Air gets clogged in my throat. It’s as if I’m being suffocated from the inside out.

Ever since I started playing soccer when I was four years old, I’ve poured my heart and soul into the game. I wasn’t one of those kids who tried a bunch of different sports before finally settling on one. It’s always been my first love. I’ve played on a handful of different travel teams and then for my high school. When I was applying to college, I had several offers from Division I schools. I chose Western because the academics were top-notch, and the women’s team consistently ranked in the top two programs in their division. I didn’t come in as a starter freshman year. I earned my position through hard work and dedication.

How dare she insinuate otherwise!

It takes a few moments before I’m able to find my voice. “Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Oh, I know exactly who I am. I also know I’m more talented than you.” She shoves a hand against my shoulder, knocking me back a step. “The only reason you’re anything on this team is because of your daddy.” She smirks. “Not only does everyone know it, but they also resent the hell out of it.”

Heat slams into my cheeks. “My father has nothing to do with my position or being captain!”

“Is that what you really think?” She rolls her eyes and waves a hand toward the locker room. “Everyone knows that daddy is the one who secured you the spot.”

Rage bubbles up inside me.

I take a step forward, unwilling to back down or be intimidated by this girl who is nothing more than a loudmouth bully. “I’ve spent three years earning my position on this team. No one handed me anything. I’ve put in the time, and I’ve worked hard. Maybe you should try that instead of flirting with the coach and causing dissension on the team.”

Her eyes narrow as if she wasn’t expecting me to slap back. “I’ve got more talent in my pinkie than you’ll ever have.”

“Oh yeah?” I raise my brows. “Then prove it! If you’re so damn good, take my position away through talent on the field instead of constantly running your mouth and trying to turn my teammates against me.”

She bares her teeth like a feral animal. “When I’m done with you, you’ll wish you never picked up a soccer ball in the first place.”

“Good luck with that, Annica. Right now, the only thing I wish I’d never done is befriend you.”

Unwilling to argue with her anymore, I stride away, leaving her to stand alone on the field. It’s only after I distance myself that I realize my hands are shaking. Even though it needed to happen, I hate confrontations. The only good thing to come out of this conversation is that we know exactly where we stand with each other. For better or worse, it’s all out in the open. If I’d hoped we could put our differences aside and finish out this season as a united team, that notion has been blown to shit. Annica won’t be happy until she wipes me off the face of the earth.