Day Fourteen

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“Off side!” I shout for the fifth time during the first half of TJ’s soccer game. I gesticulated to one of the opposing players and huffed. “Come on, Ref. He’s clearly off side.”

I’ve never been a sport person, if it wasn’t already clear after last week’s incident, but I think soccer is a sport I could totally get in to. Capshaw were only thirty-eight minutes into the game, and half time was still a little way off, but I think I’d gotten the hang of it already.

The game continued, and the referee hadn’t taken in to consideration my profession judgment about Wilson-Moore’s player being off side. It had been pretty obvious that the boy in the claret jersey was off side; if I had noticed it, then surely someone else must have. I leaned back in the stands and folded my arms across my chest, fighting back the anger raging inside me and the annoyance I felt towards the marshal.

He was clearly unfit to referee a soccer game.

Another foul was committed against Capshaw, this time with the fullback tackling Brewer to the ground. Brewer rolled around on the floor and the referee, in a moment of common sense, booked the defender and showed him a yellow card. I smiled triumphantly and watched as TJ stepped forward to take a penalty. He placed the ball on the stop, took three steps back and one to the left. He looked from the ball to the goal and back down again before taking in a deep breath and stepping forward to take the shot.

The ball careened in to the net, and the crowd went crazy. I hollered along with them, jumping to my feet and clapping my hands in congratulations. TJ looked up to the stand, singled me out and waved at me as he ran back to his team. A few seconds later the whistle blew for half time and the boys came running from the field and towards the bench where the coach was on hand with his clipboard.

Coach Yeeles shouted out instructions, telling his defense that they needed to be tighter at the back, and the midfielders needed to be more attacking. He criticized all the player, bar on. TJ, who also happened to be the team’s captain, was the only one who came out unscathed. Coach Yeeles praised him for his goal, but then frowned and he started pointing his finger at the stands. TJ nodded at first and then burst out laughing. He nodded again, rounded the coach and started to make his way up to where I was sat.

“Enjoying the game?” He asked as he sat next to me, draping his arm around the back of my seat. I nod with a smile, and TJ grinned at me. “Coach said that you’ve been very supportive, if a little… what the word? Vocal?”

I blushed. “Oh, yeah, that,” I say in a stutter. I turn my gaze back to the field and wince. “I may have got a little excited about the game. But in my defense, you probably shouldn’t have taught me the off side rule.”

“That’s what you’ve been shouting?” TJ roared with laughter. “Jesus, Cate. I thought you were joking about yelling that from the sidelines.”

“Why would you think I’d joke about that?” I ask confusedly. When TJ shrugs, I let the subject drop and just turn to look at him. His blonde hair was soaked with sweat and covered most of his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed. His jersey was covered in mud, and his legs were so dirty I couldn’t make out any skin, not that there was a lot on show in the first pace with his royal blue socks pulled up to his knees. “You look disgusting.”

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