Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,27

be forgiven—and I lost my ball.

“This is getting old,” someone behind me said, and it seemed like everyone felt that way. No one had the energy we’d had earlier in the week.

“Speed it up,” Bobby said. His face was stony and he’d folded his arms over his chest, like he wanted to build a wall between us and him.

“You said to go slow,” Arlene whined.

“Slow like you care, not like you died.” It was as stern as Bobby had ever sounded.

When we all returned, he said, “Grab some water, and we’ll do it again. This time with a little speed.”

“Someone’s testy today,” Candace said, taking one of the small paper cups set out next to the cooler of water Bobby had brought.

“For real,” Dana said, pushing a sweaty lock of hair off her face.

“I didn’t know he could be such a prick,” Marie Quinn said.

“Yeah, he can bite me,” Joanie moaned.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tina retorted.

“No, that’s Susan,” Candace said.

“Shut up, Candace.” I looked over my shoulder to see if Bobby was listening, but he was straightening the cones.

“I didn’t know this was going to be so hard,” Wendy said.

“Or pointless. Like, we don’t even have a game,” Sarah Foster said.

“This is so boring,” Arlene said. “I thought he’d be more flirty.”

“He’s gonna hear you, Arlene,” Dana said. “Besides, isn’t hanging all over Tom Meyer enough for you?”

“I don’t hang all over Tom,” Arlene shot back.

“I heard your ex Paul is going out with Jessica Simich,” Joanie said. “He got over you fast.”

Arlene tossed a cup of water at her. Joanie tossed one back at her, and then Dana shot a cup at water at me.

“What’d you do that for?” I said to her.

“Because you’re showing off, trying to outrun us all so you get time with Bobby.”

I looked from Dana to the other girls on the team, who were all nodding.

“Is there such a thing as ‘coach’s pet’?” Marie asked.

“Yeah, I thought I tried to be a showoff,” Wendy said. “But at least I wear a bra.”

“It’s kind of twisted,” Dana said, her voice going full prude.

“It’s not like that. Shut. UP,” I said. I had a cup of water in each hand and tossed both at her. But Dana stepped out of the way, and two streams of water sailed through the air and—

Hit Bobby, who’d been standing right behind her.

“That’s it!” he said, and blew his whistle again. His eyes were sharp, and his nostrils flared. He directed his angry face at me for a second before moving on to the rest of the girls.

None of us spoke.

“All week. All week, I’ve shown up. All week, I’ve tried. And here and there, I see it in you—that you can do this. But just as one of you starts to show potential, another one decides to slow down, or complain, or fuck around. I’ve shown up. But you haven’t. SHOWN. UP.”

He kicked a soccer ball so hard, it coursed through the air, hit a nearby tree, and ricocheted back at us. He had his hands on his hips, framing his perfect pelvis, as he said, “Know what suicides are?”

“Like, someone killing themselves?” Franchesa Rotini, who rarely spoke, asked with a quiver in her voice.

“Yeah, that. But on the field. They’re what my coaches had us do when no one was taking practice seriously and they were sick of our shit.” He turned and pointed. “Run as fast as you can to the middle of the field and back, then as fast as you can to the playground and back. Touch the ground at the middle and at the playground.”

He blew his whistle, but we all stayed where we were, looking at each other.

“Now!” he growled.

With that, we started running toward the middle of the field and back. When we touched the ground near Bobby, he yelled, “Pick it up!” I sprinted toward the playground, way ahead of everyone, but when I got back, I stopped and bent over, panting.

Bobby looked at me and shook his head. “You stop when I tell you to stop.” Then he yelled, “All of you, keep running until I say you’re done.” He blew his whistle three times rapidly and watched us, his hands in fists at his sides.

“Fuck,” someone behind me said.

I was out in front, with Tina and Wendy not far behind me. On the third round, the three of us slowed down when we reached Bobby again, and he said, “Speed it up. Set the pace.” When we’d made