29 » two can play

29 2 5
                                    

I set my keys down on the counter after coming home from tutoring. Maddox was coming along quite nicely in biology. I couldn't take all the credit, of course, but I'd like to think I was at least somewhat instrumental in his recent progress.

I had initially wondered if he was making up the need for tutoring, but I dismissed the thought half a second later. For one, he hadn't known I would be his tutor, and two, he was far too sweet and genuine to do that. Then I felt bad for even considering the idea.

Shrugging off my backpack on the hardwood floor caused a twinge in my shoulder. I winced as I rolled out my arm. Coach was running us ragged at practice this week in preparation for our biggest tournament of the season in a couple of weeks. I'd landed awkwardly after Felicity hit me with a mistimed tackle during a scrimmage.

It wasn't on purpose, but Felicity had been more aggressive than usual this week. Then again, I couldn't blame her—she thought this tournament was her last chance to prove her worth to the UCLA scouts before they changed their mind and went with someone else. I hated to admit it, but she might have been right, which was why she was working so hard. I could only hope her hard work paid off... and that she wouldn't cause me bodily harm before them.

Thankfully, Coach Walker was giving us two days off since we didn't have any games this weekend, which was fantastic timing considering half of the team had homecoming this weekend and wouldn't be in any shape to play on Sunday anyway.

As I went to pick up my backpack and head upstairs, the doorbell rang. I was tempted to not answer, but since I was the only one home, I kind of had to.

Kieran was on the doorstep. I blinked in surprise, taking in his workout attire and the soccer ball in his hands. "Hi. Are you looking for Finn? I think he's heading straight from the office to practice."

"Actually, I was looking for you." He held up the ball. "Do you want to play?"

I couldn't remember the last time I'd scrimmaged with Kieran or Finn. It had to have been back in middle school, before the two of them became close friends with the rest of the guys on their team and practiced exclusively with them.

I raised an eyebrow. "You want me to 1-v-1 you? Are you sure you're in a losing mood?" That was utter bullshit—I was good, but not that good. Certainly not at the same level as Kieran, who was being heralded as the most promising young international at the moment. I was sure the calls from Real Madrid or Barcelona or another big club were coming any day now.

He grinned. "I like your confidence. Let's see you put your money where your mouth is."

Well, it wasn't like I had any other plans this afternoon. "I hope you're ready to get your ass kicked."

Minutes later, after I'd changed into a tank top and athletic shorts, we were walking to the park. I held a water bottle in one hand and my cleats in the other. One of the laces on my sneakers was untied, dragging against the sidewalk with every step, but I was too lazy to stop and tie it.

The scenery in my neighborhood on the way to the park could have been on a postcard. A crisp fall breeze ruffled the treetops, where the leaves were just beginning to turn red and golden brown. Summer was finally disappearing, and fall was in full swing. I sighed in contentment.

Kieran glanced over at me, amused. "You seem very chipper for someone who's about to suffer an embarrassing defeat."

"To be fair, you're the upcoming international superstar. It'll only be embarrassing if you lose to me. Which will be happening, by the way, so I hope you have tissues ready."

"No chance," he said. "But if you're nice enough, maybe I'll let you score a point or two."

I snorted. "We'll see about that." We had just started to walk through the parking lot next to the field before an unpleasant thought crossed my mind. "Wait, is the devil incarnate going to be here?"

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