Tyler won’t stop shooting me concerned glances. I side-eye him and he purses his lips. When he raises an eyebrow at me, I just glare at him and shake my head. He sets his mouth in a firm line and returns his focus to Coach, but I know this isn’t the end of it. Dude is like a dog with a bone, he won’t let shit go. Granted, my reaction to seeing Dacen Becker at my high school, trying out for my soccer team, was not exactly subtle. The moment I looked over and saw a guy stretching, head down, with dirty blond hair and not one strand out of place, my heart jumped into my throat. Call it a dreadmonition, but I somehow knew even before he looked up it was him. When he raised his head and our eyes locked, my heart plummeted straight into my gut. Red-hot adrenaline poured from one nerve cell to another, scorching every synapse in my body as my fight or flight response kicked in hardcore. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to sense something was up, let alone a bloodhound like Tyler. We’ve been friends too damn long for him to not notice when something legitimately gets under my skin.
I need to keep my cool and my game face on, not stand here losing my shit because a fucking blast from the not-so-distant past showed up at tryouts. I must keep a clear head this season because not only is my high school soccer career ending way faster than I ever thought possible, we also have a new head coach this year, Kace King, who isn’t familiar yet with our individual skills or how we play together as a unit. I’ve got enough to juggle learning a new coach—albeit a kick-ass, super-qualified coach—and don’t need any additional balls in the air, particularly when those balls belong to Dacen Becker.
On top of all that, I need to continue to kick ass on the field and stay in top shape because I’m a walk-on for the EGSU soccer team next year. If I’m to have even a prayer of earning playing time my first two years of college I can’t afford to slack off at all.
My molars grind together and I breathe deeply through my nose to loosen the pressure building in my jaw. Becker suddenly appearing in Knoxton Falls is the last thing I expected when my alarm went off this morning, but I won’t let him become a detriment to me or this team. I don’t care how good of a striker he is, he’s not worth the inevitable disappointment. I sigh and crack my neck from one side to the other.
“That was a very weighty sigh, Sutton. Seriously, what’s up?”
“It’s nothing, Ty. Just let it go.”
That’s the last of our conversation before the rigorous warmup and conditioning portion of day one tryouts begins. Before long we’re too busy sucking air to speak. So. Much. Running. It’s intense even for me, and I run nearly every morning. We go back and forth across the field, up and down the bleachers, and then around the track. This takes us close to the cheerleaders. I’ve always thought it dumb they cheer for football and not soccer, especially here where, though this town goes apeshit over Friday night football, our high school team sucks more than a vacuum. A brunette cheerleader smiles at me as I round the far corner of the track, and on autopilot I smirk at her, but my brain won’t stop wandering back to Becker.
He can’t have moved here all that long ago. This is a tiny town. People talk. Aunt Lily would have heard about a new guy and mentioned it. My eyes gloss over and all I see of the cheerleaders is a sea of red, white, and black pompoms as I make my way past them. Why’s he here? And more importantly, what sort of agenda does he have? Other than being an unreliable, two-faced jackass. Unease and irritation flicker through my body. I mentally shove away the tingly feeling threatening to spread through my core and run purposefully the last stretch, pushing my body hard. My legs burn, my lungs are on fire, and I push through the pain as I make my way toward the finish line where Coach awaits. Focus, Sutton. I hear Dad’s words echo in the back of my mind.
Game time, bubs. Game face. Focus and finish.
This shit town ain’t big enough for Becker and I to completely avoid each other, especially since he’s trying out for the team, which means I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and make sure he knows exactly where we stand. The fact that my dick tries to stir to life every time he’s near is irrelevant.
Focus and finish.
* * *
“I don’t understand.”Evan’s words are muffled as he talks around a bite of pizza. “Why’s this Becker guy throwing balls at your face?”
Tyler snorts, unfortunately, while he’s taking a drink, and cola shoots out of his nose. He’s coughing while laughing and Evan slaps him on the back a few times until he can breathe normally again.
“It’s a metaphor, Evan. Balls in the air,” Roman drones on. “Try to keep up.”
Pretty sure it’s actually an idiom but I don’t correct him. I just shovel a bite of pizza in my mouth and chew quietly. Evan and Roman, my other two best friends, met Tyler and me at the diner for lunch once soccer was over for the day. The four of us have been friends practically since we were in diapers, and have equal parts respect and equal parts disdain for each other, depending on the day. But I will always go to bat for any of them, no matter what, and the same goes for all of them. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. That’s just the way it is.
“Whatever.” Evan picks up his train of thought again, waving his hand around. “So what’s the deal? You get new guys on the team every year. What’s your beef with him?”
“I actually met him earlier this summer at soccer camp.” I’m hyper-focused on the slice of pizza in front of me. I hold back a sneer when I feel Tyler assessing me critically.
“You met him, or youmethim?”
“Fuck off, Ty.”
I make the mistake of looking up again and my eyes lock with Tyler’s. His upper lip twists into a smirk as he picks up his glass and takes another drink. His head cocks to the side but he drops the subject. For now, anyway.
I clear my throat. “Anyway, I met him at camp. We were in some of the same sessions.”
I fold my pizza in half lengthwise and take a big bite. As I chew my focus wanes.
"So you were in some of the same sessions…” Tyler prompts me. With a scowl, I continue.
“Yeah. He seemed okay at first, kind of annoying but whatever. But then he totally screwed us over in the match at the end of camp. He just up and disappeared in the middle of the game. Not one word to anyone. Our team lost.” A grumble gets stuck in my throat. I hate losing.
Roman looks up from his phone and furrows his eyebrows. “It was just a game. I’m as down with ostracizing someone as much as the next asshole, but I don’t see what the big deal was.”
“It’s the principle of it,” I mutter. “He was there one minute and gone the next. No explanation, before or after. Unreliable.”
Roman scoffs. “Didn’t realize he owed you his life story before stepping out of a game.”
I flip him off and he puckers up his lips, making a kissing sound in my direction.
“So that’s why you’re so hung up on this dude.” Evan points a french fry at me. He’s just dipped it into his chocolate milkshake and I watch as a few drops plop messily onto the table.
