And the goalie blocking it.
With seconds left, the game is tied, and it all comes down to me.
I clench my stick and push harder, ignoring the burn in my legs. One defender lunges for my shoulder, her stick swiping at mine. I spin away just enough to keep the ball protected.
I look to pass, but defense is on my teammates, making it impossible without a turnover.
The goalie shifts her weight, crouching lower, stick ready. She’s waiting for me to shoot.
Not yet.
I fake right, watching her move with me, then I cut left. My momentum nearly sends me sliding across the grass, but I steady myself and snap my shot.
The ball slices through the air, and I hold my breath as the goalie lifts her stick.
But she misses.
The ball fires into the upper corner of the net, and the buzzer rips through the silence. The roar of the crowd rushes back to my ears, and my teammates scream.
We won.
We just won the state championship.
And I scored the winning goal.
Ivori is the first to crash into me. “You did it!”
I laugh and gasp for air as the rest of the team surrounds me. We collapse into a pile on the field, and the months of tension, exhaustion, and stress roll off our bodies, hovering over us like spirits leaving the dead.
As we untangle ourselves, I pull off my goggles and scan the bleachers for my dad. I spot him wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.
Big softie.
Like a tidal wave in teal Breakwater High hoodies, the lacrosse boys climb over the railing, shouting like maniacs. We always show up for each other’s games to show our support.
Evan charges me like a freight train, and I brace for impact. “Let’s fucking go!” He tosses me over his shoulder and runs around my team in a wide circle. “State champions, baby!”
“Put her down,” Coach Nadine scolds him. “Boys, get off the field!”
I laugh as Evan plants me back on my feet. “Go grab some tables at River Rock for us. We’ll meet you there.”
Landon hangs back, obeying my coach, but he shoots me a wink, wearing a bright smile.
I did it.
I won.
As the excitement dies down, Coach wrangles us back in a line so we can shake hands with our opponents. Southern was a formidable opponent, and gave us a run for our money. I have mad respect for their team.
Then we have our last huddle of the season. Tears flow as we highlight our seniors who just played their final high school game, and then Coach Nadine turns the attention to me.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone so young with such raw talent.” She shakes her head. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”
Tears sting my eyes as I smile. “Thanks, Coach.”
We soak up several more minutes on the field with our seniors, and then we make our way to the parking lot. My dad’s waiting by his car with his arms wide open.
I crash into him, and in the safety of his embrace, I can finally let go. Tears roll down my cheeks and my shoulders shake as I cry.
