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Four Years Earlier
I’m so excited.
Today is the big day. Tryouts for the JV soccer team. Marku and I have been practicing and strategizing the entire summer. On the scrawny lawn with large patches of dirt at the back end of Sunnyside Park, where kids meet every day to scrimmage. On the rooftops of the buildings on our street. Juggling competitions in our rooms.
I’m obsessed. He’s obsessed. And we’re not the only ones obsessed. The soccer team is the single most respected athletic team at Empire Academy. And,hellooo?It’s soccer. It’s the place to be. It’s the ultimate proof that you’ve earned respect based on agility and skill. I’ll go to any lengths to make it onto this team.
There’s a girls team…but let’s just say that it’s not nearly as competitive, and I want to compete against the best. Initially, it took some doing to convince Marku to help me prep and train. Truth be told, I’m not sure he would’ve backed me without the big blowout fight we had, but that was before Cristian’s death. Since then, he’s been much quieter. My heart squeezes at the thought of Cristian. And at the thought of what Marku and his family have been going through. Aunt Natalia is like my second mother and she hasn’t been the same since.
I shake it off. I can’t let anything affect my mood right now. I need to keep my head in the game. And whether Marku was originally supportive or not, I would’ve eventually won him over. That’s how badly I want this. And I always get what I want.
Being the only girl trying out, I’m milling around outside the boy’s locker room, unsure where to go. It’s a week before the official start of school so the building is mostly empty. We were supposed to meet on the field outside, but the coach sent out a last-minute email to all prospective players to meet up in the locker room first.
Which leaves me in a bit of a pickle.
See, Coach doesn’t know a girl is trying out. I don’t want to risk him knowing I’m a girl before he checks out my foot skills. I want him to judge me solely on the field. I certainly couldn’t tell Mama. This must be kept from her for as long as possible. Even when I get chosen—and I’ve worked hard enough to know that I’ve got a chance to make it—she’ll pressure me to quit. But if I get in, there’s no way I’m quitting.
Which means, I need to make sure I get a fair shake.
I got here an hour early and the flow of boys entering the locker room has dwindled to nothing. Enough time has passed that I’m guessing they’re probably dressed by now. I pray they are.
Wringing my hands, I fret.Do I go into the locker room now?
The plan is for Marku to poke his head out, text me, or give me a signal that it’s all clear. Then I’ll sneak into the locker room, blend in with the boys as they’re walking out, and slip onto the field as one of them. If that’s not possible, then Marku will let me know that they’ve started. I’ll take the stairs up to the lobby, book down the hall to the back door, and meet them on the field. The potential downside to the backup plan is that I may not blend in as easily.
I fidget as I wait. I can practically taste victory. All those hours of playing and working out, of having to prove myself day after day at the park, of those same boys talking shit about me whenever Marku is too far away to hear, will have been worth it. I’d hate myself if I didn’t give it my best shot.
Leaning against the puke-green colored wall, I chew on my nail and lean closer and closer to the door until I have my ear pressed against the wood. I can make out Coach’s booming voice on the other side of the door.
“What are you doing?”
Shooting off the door, I whirl around and come face to face with Dinu and one of his little minions, Adrian.
Dinu grins at me and I melt a little. He’s in one of the other boy cliques, not with Marku and his besties, Lucian and Anton. He’s the opposite of Marku, but still cute with his platinum blond hair.
Clutching the ball tightly against my chest, I wait for his perusal of my entire body, from my cleats to my shorn locks.
He frowns slightly as he inspects my hair. He gestures toward my head. “What happened to you?”
Yes, I’d cut my hair like a boy just for this.
I touch it gingerly. “What? It’s hot out. I needed a cut.”
He breaks into a soft smile. “Looks good on you.” He takes a step closer, reaches out and grabs a strand of hair, rubbing it softly between his fingers. “I like it.”
Our eyes lock. My cheeks blaze hot, but I can’t tear my gaze away from his cerulean-blue eyes. And there’s another difference between him and Marku. He doesn’t call me “Chuckie” from the old horror movies we watched as kids. He sees me as a girl, even when I’m trying to pass for a boy. Heck, Marku doesn’t see me that way when I’m dressed up in a dress and heels. It’s one of the main reasons I’ve forcibly friend-zoned my crush on Marku. He only sees me as a pal, or even worse, a sister.
Adrian clears his throat, breaking the moment. My gaze skitters away from Dinu. He reluctantly drops his hand and takes a half step back.
Jutting my thumb toward the locker room, I ask, “What’s happening in there? I need to know when tryouts are starting.”
He arches a white-blond brow at me. “You tryin’ out with the boys?”
I bristle at the question, hunch up my shoulders, and jam my hands on my hips. “You gotta problem with that?”
His eyes widen and he raises his hands in the air. “No, nope. Not at all.”
I sigh, frustrated at myself for snapping at him. “I got the tryout info, but I…” My mind goes blank. How am I going to explain this? “I want to know what’s happening in there right now.”
