we’re supposed to be?
I draw in a steady inhalation and fight for patience. I’m not someone who easily loses my temper, but Annica pushes every single one of my buttons. In a perfect world, I would simply avoid the girl, but that’s not possible when we play for the same team. She won’t be the reason I quit soccer. Once the season is over, we can part ways. Until then, we have to peacefully coexist.
Maybe Annica likes to play games, but that’s not how I operate. I refuse to be dragged into any more of them. The only way to handle this is to cut right to the chase. “You’ve made it more than obvious that you don’t like me.” Before she can cut me off, I continue. “And that’s fine. We don’t have to be best friends or even like each other, but we do need to play together. I think we both want the same thing, and that’s to win as many games as possible this season and take home a championship.” I pause, allowing the sentiment to sink in. “Is it possible for us to put aside our differences and work together as a team from here on out?”
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