“No,” she said flatly and then resumed her seat.
“Okaaay.” I tilted my pen in the direction of the next kid.
She was easily the tallest person on the field, save for me, and looked a little formal with her tee shirt tucked into her shorts. “I’m Tori,” she said quietly. “I play goalie.”
I noted that she had gloves next to her spot on the grass, and I jotted that down on my paper.
Another child popped up and did a little twirl. “Hi, I’m Gia. I wanted to be a cheerleader, but my mom said I had to do this. My preferred position is sub.”
I ... didn’t think that was a position, but whatever. “Thanks, Gia.” I smiled tightly.
The next kid didn’t even bother standing. She had a tie-dye tracksuit on. “I’m Judy Douglas, and I can only come to, like, one game this season. I only signed up because I heard the jerseys were going to be really pretty. I like singing and dancing and acting.”
“Right.” I fought a sigh and made another scribble on my roster.
Three more girls introduced themselves, and thankfully, they were here to actually play soccer.
Then two players stood up together, and I realized how similar they looked.
“I’m Callie,” one blond child said.
“And I’m Michelle,” a nearly identical one echoed.
“Our parents make us play for exercise,” Michelle added. “But please don’t make us. Callie has heart palpitations if she runs too fast.”
I stared, alarmed. “What’s too fast?”
“At all!” Michelle insisted. “If she runs at all.”
“Shouldn’t you have that looked at by a doctor?”
“Great,” Michelle huffed. “Now you’re making her feel bad.”
And sure enough, Callie’s lower lip trembled.
Oh, shit. I was already making one of them cry. “Uh, sorry, Callie,” I said quickly. “We’ll take things slow.”
Michelle crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Really slow,” I amended.
Both girls sat, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally, Jamie Santiago stood cheerfully. “Hi, Coach. I’m Jamie, as you know. I play striker or midfield.”
Just then, a ball rolled into our circle.
“I’m ready to be the best I can be,” Jamie added enthusiastically.
Jacob, the boy from across the field, jogged over and picked up the ball resting by Jamie’s feet. “That sounds like the title of your autobiography,” he said, Charlie giggling wildly behind him. He shot her a triumphant look and then sprinted away.
The gathered girls laughed while Jamie glared in Jacob’s direction. She grumbled something under her breath and then sat back down.
There was a long moment of silence before I realized that I was the adult in charge and should probably get this show on the road.
“I thought we could start with some passing drills.” Google had told me this was a pretty common occurrence at soccer practice, for any age group. “Find a partner. There are balls in that bag over there. And get started.”
They stared at me.
