For, Elliot

2

Adam quickly calls for a water break, and Elliot leaves to retrieve his water from his bag at the bench.

I glance behind myself, knowing that I shouldn't. It's almost unconsciously.

Elliot doesn't sit on the bench, but stands as he slowly takes a sip from his bottle. His belongings are piled off to the very end of the bench, separated from the rest of the players by a good distance. The space between him and them is almost like a wall or force field.
I notice the players whispering and snickering, Elliot just ignoring them.

I clap on the shoulder causes me to jump and Adam is in my face again.

"Thought you could use some help back there" Adam grins.

I shrug his arm off me, annoyed that Elliot is practically playing me. What if he is good? What if I do want him on the team?

What if I need him on the team?

I turn to Adam, who raises an eyebrow in question.

"Get them lined up. I want to see passing drills, shooting drills, running, and then some scrimmage." I command behind clenched teeth.

Adam nods, yelling for the athletes to start pairing up with a ball. Players grab their partners, quickly lining up and making passes to each other.

"I don't have a partner."

I jump in my spot, spinning around to see Elliot with a ball tucked under his arm. A relaxed look on his face.

"Pair up and make a group of three." I snarl behind my clipboard.

"Which group?" He asks surveying the people behind me.

"Just pick one and stop bothering me." I snap now.

He doesn't seem fazed by my outburst, instead calmly brushing past me and asking two guys if he can join.
They hesitate, both glancing up at me.
I give a curt nod and they comply.
I watch the players movement, noticing that Elliot makes all his passes with accuracy. That's no surprise though, most players can hit their target easily.
I yell for them to spread out more, the distance making the aiming more difficult.

Not for Elliot.

Adam soon gets bored, his impatience always high. They start running laps and Elliot is in the front, even when he's dribbling a ball.

"That tears it." I growl. "Line up for a scrimmage!" I holler.

The guys separate into even teams, and Adam and I make sure to pair off against Elliot.

"Play!" I yell, and the game begins.

A boy brings it up the field, passing it to Adam who takes a shot. Scoring easily. Elliot smiles.

The ball is played in again and we make another run, the ball passing by one guy easily. I hear a sigh and suddenly Elliot has the ball, flying past our offenders. I cut in as a midfielder but he steps out, making a perfect pass that creates a perfect shot. His assist flawless.

By the time Adam and I are giving and going with the soccer ball, we've had a good time possessing the ball. I growl when an opponent steals the ball, who immediately passes it to Elliot.
Adam laughs, and our eyes connect before we are both rushing, putting more pressure on Elliot.

Elliot smirks, and before I know it he's passed me, Adam, the three defenders, making a goal.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn to see Adam bent over his knees.

"That guy is quick. I wonder if all queers are that agile." He jokes.

I grit my teeth, angered that Elliot is passing with flying colors.