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“Holy shit, Liam Stevens is here,” Charlie suddenly says.
The statement draws the attention of everyone sitting in the top two rows. I glance over to the opposite set of bleachers, and sure enough, Liam Stevens is sitting with Coach Stevens and a blonde woman who must be Maeve’s mother. They look a lot alike. She’s watching the game closely, but just as Maeve said, her father is busy talking to the man seated behind him.
“No way,” one junior breathes. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
“That’s Maeve Stevens,” Chris replies, looking out onto the field. “She plays for Glenmont’s soccer team.”
Most of the team follows his gaze to where Maeve is still standing with her back to us, proudly displaying theSTEVENSemblazoned across the back of her white and maroon jersey.
Fresh anticipation thrums through my teammates in response to Chris’s announcement. Cheering against Glenmont is one thing. Watching a Stevens play against Alleghany? Raises the stakes significantly.
Maeve finally turns around, and Adam lets out a low whistle. My hands clench into fists automatically. I hear a few other appreciative sounds from the guys seated around me and suddenly question the wisdom of dragging my teammates here.
It’s too late to do anything but sit here silently, though, which is confirmed when a stutter in Maeve’s jog out onto the field confirms she’s seen the additions to the audience. Her other teammates are glancing toward us as well.
We’re also attracting attention from Alleghany’s soccer team now.
Josh stands. “Call me, Fourteen!” he yells to Caroline.
His obnoxious shout earns him a smattering of applause from our teammates and a few members of the soccer team. Caroline flips him off.
In an alternative reality, I imagine calling out encouragement to Maeve. But that fantasy is hard to imagine under the weight of the glares from her teammates. The Alleghany girls may be warming to our presence, but it’s clear the Glenmont team has taken our presence as a personal affront. I wonder how Maeve feels.
We’ve barely talked since school started a few weeks ago.
Since the day she called me in the cafeteria. I texted her that night asking if she wanted to meet up, and she said she was too busy. It’s been the same response the other three times I’ve tried to see her. I don’t doubt she is, but it’s feeling more and more like a brush-off.
I should be glad.
We had fun, and she didn’t get clingy afterwards. Normally, that’s all I want from to girls. When it comes to Maeve Stevens, I keep thinking of random shit I want to tell her. Keep fantasizing about the stretch of nights we spent in the backseat of my SUV for the brief period we moved past platonic before we swerved right back into the friend-zone. Not even the friend-zone. Barely acquaintances.
She uncomplicated the murky mess we were venturing into.
Why does that make me want to pull her back in?
Maeve takes her position on the upper half of the field and confers with her fellow striker and their goaltender. I observe her talking, gesturing with her hands as she instructs them on some strategy. They watch her raptly. Maeve stays put, the other two players return to their positions, and play resumes for the second half of the game.
I can’t take my eyes off Maeve as she gains possession of the ball and streaks down toward Alleghany’s half of the field. She’s good. Even better than I thought.
Not even five minutes pass before she scores, giving Glenmont a 3-1 lead over Alleghany.
“Shit,” Charlie states as the players around me deflate. Most of us know nothing about soccer, but you don’t need to be an expert to tell Glenmont’s the superior team. They’re faster, more united, and more skilled. It’s impossible not to realize why, as I watch Maeve weave along the length of the field, shouting suggestions and advice to her teammates.
“Did you see Matt Crawford just showed up?” Chris’s question temporarily distracts my attention from Maeve.
I glance over, and sure enough, he’s climbing the bleachers to sit with the Stevens family.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Adam adds.
“Rumor is he and Maeve Stevens have a thing,” Charlie contributes.
My gaze snaps to him. “Where’d you hear that?” I ask in what I hope is a conversational tone. I’d guess it’s more confrontational, though.
“He posted a photo of them, I think?”
I watch as Crawford chats with Maeve’s mother, feeling a fresh surge of dislike toward him. Finally, I tear my eyes away before he catches me staring. That’s the last thing I need.
There are only ten minutes left in the game, and Alleghany is starting to falter. I gain a fresh appreciation for football as I watch them continue to sprint up and down the long field. Both teams are clearly tired, but Glenmont’s still pressing forward. They’re the better conditioned team, and once again, I imagine Maeve Stevens deserves most of the credit. I had my own motivations for working extra hard when we would practice together, but watching her teammates look to her each play, it’s clear she’s the type of athlete that draws a better performance out of everyone she trains with.
