Chapter 1 [edited]
I CAN DO THIS.
I can do this.
I can -
My affirmation mantra is abruptly stopped by a sharp whistle from Coach Hawthorne and suddenly, I’m moving on autopilot. My eyes refuse to leave the ball sitting in the grass several feet away as I sprint toward the middle of the field. As I get closer, the dull roar in my ear fades and I remember I am not alone with an opponent directly opposite of me trying to get to that ball first.
I beat her there by half a second.
Dribbling the ball between my cleats, I duck and weave and fake out the defense waiting for me. It’s a dance with a very delicate partner that everyone is desperate to steal away. Protecting the ball is second nature to me after doing this routine every day for twelve years. I know my teammates are annoyed as I get closer to the penalty arc without a single breakaway - it’s on their faces and it’s in their small sounds of irritation.
As soon as my feet hit the spray-painted white line, I send the ball flying into the net.
Cheers erupt from the right side of the field, the home base for my team in this drill. The other team’s goalie, Natalie Shaw, had dove into the grass trying to prevent me from scoring. Ignoring the cheers, I take a few steps and offer her a hand up.
Nat gives me a knowing look before placing her gloved hand in mine. “You good?” I ask, unable to hide my smile. I know how much my friend hates playing goalie during these drills and I’m sure being scored on for the tenth time today would make this the topic of her daily rant in the locker room.
The brunette rolls her eyes and slings her arm over my shoulders, guiding us to the center of the field where the rest of the team was now huddled with Coach Hawthorne. “No. I’m tired and hot and want to go home. Fuck, I hate playing goalie.”
“That’s not very good sportsmanship,” I chide playfully.
“Fuck good sportsmanship.”
I laugh and Natalie gives me the finger which she quickly puts away when we reach the huddle.
Someone sidles next to me, whispering, “Nice work, MK.”
It was unfair how after four hours of practice, my older sister and our team captain managed to look so put together. Her brown hair was slicked back in a long ponytail with a black Nike headband, not a single strand out of place, while my black hair had taken on a life of its own outside of the bun I threw it up in. Zoe’s jersey, shorts, and socks looked as fresh as they did when she took them out of the wash this morning while I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure Mom was going to make me put these back in the washer before I get two feet into the house.
“Thanks, Captain,” I whisper back before tuning into what Coach Hawthorne was saying.
“...and we’ve had a good summer ladies,” She says with a smile. “You all put in a tremendous amount of work training and conditioning. I have high hopes for this season - I really do. There are things we will need to spend time ironing out before the district qualifies, but I’m hoping we’ll keep this progress up once the semester begins. No practice for the rest of the week. Get out of here and I will see you all on Monday after school.”
This time it’s the entire team that erupts into cheers, hugging one another and wishing each other a good job done. I do the same because I’m proud of us too. From two-a-days to brutally long runs along the coastline, all of us made building a strong soccer team the core focus of our summer. And when the semester starts on Monday, we will make local history as the first women’s soccer team at Paradise Hills Preparatory School. In three weeks, we’ll make Youth Soccer League history as the first women’s soccer team to ever compete for the national title.
I’m proud of us. But I am cautious because we’re doing this in the shadow of the men’s team which has won the YSL National Cup every year for the last five years.
That’s why, twenty minutes later, I resist the urge to roll my eyes as Natalie, Ellie, and I watch the Paradise Hills men’s varsity soccer team wrap up their practice and head over to the parking lot where we waited.
“You know,” Ellie starts after finishing up a bag of chips, “I am way more interested in watching the boys play during district matches.”
I say a quick prayer for patience, “You know we’ll end up playing them at some point during districts, right?”
“What does that have to do with how hot your brother is?” She counters unashamedly.
“Oh my God, Ellie. That’s my twin.”
She laughs and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. “Are you offering to make my dreams come true instead? Because either one of you works for me.”
I pull my hand out of hers quickly and both Natalie and Ellie are now laughing at my expense. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Natalie shrugs, “Maybe. But you love us.”
I do, but they were not going to hear that from me.
Before they could keep teasing, Alex broke away from the group of boys he was talking to and made his way over to where we were leaning against our car.
“What’s up, MK?” My twin brother greets me casually. Turning to Ellie and Nat he flashes them a brilliant smile, “Ladies.”
I would like nothing more than to bash my head on the concrete when I see Ellie blush.
Alex moves past us to put his duffle bag in the trunk where Zoe and I had already tossed our own gear minutes earlier.
“MK!” He calls out to me as he slams the trunk door. “Where the fuck is Zo?”
That is a good question. Despite Zoe and I being sisters that get along really well (for the most part), she doesn’t spend a lot of time with me or Alex during school and she’s spent less time with us this summer. It didn’t bother me or Alex that much since she’s always been a grade above us and it’s not like me and Alex are attached to the hip anymore anyway.
I do a quick sweep of the parking lot while absentmindedly bidding Ellie and Nat farewell. As Ellie’s white RAV4 pulls out, I spot Zoe talking intently to Nathan Daniels by his car.
Weird.
Nathan is a senior defensive midfielder and captain of the men’s varsity team with a loud mouth and a shitty personality to match. Both Zoe and I have expressed distaste for Nathan in the past, especially when Alex got closer to him last year, but whatever it is the two are discussing seems to supersede those feelings.
“Zo!” I give her a what the fuck look. “We gotta go. Mom will kill us if we’re late for dinner.”
She gives me an indecipherable look, turns to Nathan again, and says something I can’t make out. A few more seconds of this and she’s making her way over to us.
Zoe offers no explanation apart from a quick sorry and an apologetic smile. The three of us get in the car as more cars to our right begin to peel out of the parking lot. Alex gets in the driver’s seat (he finally passed his driver’s test and insists on driving everywhere now), Zoe sits next to him in the passenger’s seat, and I settle into the back.
Alex turns on the music and starts talking to Zoe about an upcoming concert as he leaves the school parking lot and gets on the main road. Before I could put my headphones on to drown out their conversation in exchange for fifteen minutes of shut-eye, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I tap the screen to read the text notification:
Mama: Dad told me that you and Alex knew about Zoe going to that party last night. We’ll talk tonight, but you’re grounded for the rest of the week. No friends over and no TV.
Me: Who told Dad that??
Mama: Your father won’t reveal his sources
Me: You know I can’t stop Julia from coming to the house, right?
Mama: Take dishes for the week and I’ll let you see her
Me: I’ll do dishes and trash for the week for no grounding
Mama: Deal. Tell Alex his Xbox is in my office for the foreseeable future.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me at Mom’s willingness to negotiate any and all punishments with me. In a house of five kids (well, four now since my oldest brother is away for college), I tend to feel like an outsider looking into my own family sometimes. Add in being the middle child and a quiet personality in a house full of really loud people and I can go whole days without being noticed by my parents if they’re busy. But exchanges like this make up for it: I’m the only kid Mom will negotiate (or even tolerate) with and we’ve gotten pretty creative at times. Too bad I’m too tired to mess with Dad a little bit while I’m at it.
“Hey, Zo?” I ask, leaning forward between the front seats.
She hums her attention without looking up from her phone, “What’s up?”
“How did Dad know we covered for you last night?”
Alex swears loudly and turns to Zoe in disbelief. Luckily we’re at a stop sign or else I would’ve had to make a comment about how not paying attention to the road was the reason he failed his first driver’s test. “Zoe! You told Dad?!”
“I didn’t!” She tells us frantically. “I swear. I didn’t even know they knew I left last night!”
Yesterday, Dad was invited to a YSL mixer for the coaching staff, league officials, administrators, and the like. In typical Dad fashion, he was under the impression that the dinner party was next weekend and not this past one until Mom thumped him in the head with the invitation at breakfast yesterday. Thus, the three of us were asked to stay at home with our ten-year-old sister Bianca while they left.
And, yes, babysitting our younger sister is at least a two-man job.
Anyway, Zoe was invited to a senior party that she absolutely “could not miss” and asked us to cover for her since she’d be getting in after our parents. I certainly didn’t have plans and Alex (surprisingly) also did not have plans and we agreed.
Clearly, it all backfired.
I snort at the denial and lean back in my seat, “So what’d you do to Bianca that made her snitch?”
“What did you two do to Bianca to get her to throw you under the bus?”
Alex grumbles, “I know what I did.”
He doesn’t elaborate and, honestly, he doesn’t need to. Bianca has never been a huge fan of Alex since birth (she wasn’t a fan of me either, but I’ve forced her to hang out with me enough times that she’s gotten over it) and the feeling was mutual with Alex. Normally, they barely speak, but they can get into pretty blown-up arguments about space or moving someone’s things out of the way, or canceling a scheduled TV recording.
“Did Mom say we’re grounded?” Zoe asks.
I scroll through Spotify to find a playlist for the rest of the ride. “Mom has Alex’s Xbox, but she didn’t say anything about you.”
“Fuck.” They moan at the same time. Alex because he can’t participate in that gaming campaign he’s been talking about all week and Zoe because a punishment dolled out in person can’t be good news for her.
“This is all your fault you know,” Alex huffs angrily.
“How is this my fault? You could’ve said no!”
“Are you fucking serious, this is - ”
The sounds of their arguing drown in the raspy tone of Rihanna as I turn up my music and turn on noise cancellation.
TEN MINUTES LATER WE are pulling into the long driveway of our modern Southern Californian home. Zoe jumps out of the car like it’s on fire, storming into the house through the garage door like a woman on a mission.
I sigh and climb out of the car. I open the trunk to collect my things and see Alex right behind me. “Do I even want to know what you said to her?”
Alex scoffs and closes the trunk. “Does it even matter? She cost me two major gaming campaigns because all of a sudden she wants to fuck Nate.”
I stop in my tracks, spinning around to face him. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs like this is common knowledge. “They’ve been talking a lot at practice and she’s been going to the same parties. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”
“She doesn’t even like Nate,” I counter, finally getting my feet to move again. I unlock the front door with my key (going through the garage at night gives me the creeps) and Alex follows me into the long corridor. “Also. Gross.”
“It is gross and Nate sucks. She can do better.”
“Aw. I didn’t know you cared.”
Alex rolls his eyes and heads up the stairs but not without calling back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, MK!”
Yeah okay.
Shaking my head, I walk into the kitchen to see Bianca chopping up fruit on the kitchen island next to the sink. Mom was talking to Zoe closer to the windows and out of hearing range with the music coming from Bianca’s speaker. While the conversation didn’t look super pleasant, it didn’t look like Zoe was going to be grounded for more than two weeks at best.
Looking away from them, I take a seat at one of the stools and pop a strawberry off of Bianca’s cutting board into my mouth.
“Back off, Mikayla,” Bianca scolds with a warning glare. “Those are for dinner. Have some respect for the chef.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, “I’m sorry, but is the chef in the room with us?”
She shoves me playfully and I give her my best attempt at an irresistible smile before grabbing another strawberry slice.
It’s at that moment our oldest brother Daniel strides into the kitchen from the living room.
“What’s up, superstar?” He greets us, taking a seat on the other side of the island across from Bianca and me. He plugs his phone into the community iPhone charger underneath the countertop. “How was practice?”
“It was alright,” I tell him with a shrug. After stealing another piece of fruit, Bianca shoved the apple cutter and the bowl of washed apples in front of me.
Daniel leans forward with both elbows on the counter, “Just alright? I heard you killed an offensive play today.”
“Zoe told you that?” I ask not hiding the fact that Zoe willingly talking to Daniel about soccer is kind of unbelievable. They love each other, don’t get me wrong, but at some point when Zoe started high school, she stopped talking to Daniel about anything soccer-related.
He shakes his head and plucks an apple from the bowl. Now I’m the unimpressed one which causes Bianca to snicker. “Nah, Alex.”
“That’s even more surprising.” Alex and I used to talk to each other about everything including soccer. We had been an inseparable group of friends - me, him, my best friend Juliana, and his best friend Jackson - until sophomore year when Jackson, Alex, and I had a falling out. Now, Alex’s primary friend group is the other soccer players (which is fine), but they had been annoyingly vocal all spring semester about blocking our petition for a women’s soccer team at Paradise Hills.
So the fact that Alex even watched glimpses of our practice, let alone had something positive to say about it, is surprising.
“Sounds like he might be warming up to the idea of having a girls’ team,” A new voice comments.
The three of us look up to see Mom had come over to the island. She has a smile on her face and we smile back, “Dinner’s ready. Can you get everyone?”
“I’ll do it!” Bianca volunteers and then she’s bolting out of the kitchen. Seconds later, I can hear her sprinting up the stairs.
“MK. Daniel. Can you help get the rest of the food to the dining room?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“You got it.”
I grab the fruit salad Bianca and I were working on and head over to the dining room with Daniel hot my heels. Dad is already sitting at the top of the table, scrolling on his phone. “Hey,” He looks up as we set stuff on the table. “How’s it going, guys?”
“Pretty good,” Daniel answers for both of us. He moves to the seat directly across from Dad. “Hey, I wanted to ask you something about the YSL.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m filling out the paperwork for...”
I tune them out when my phone vibrates again with new messages:
Julia: Dude
Julia: Can you ft tonight
Julia: I just opened the summer assignment for Lit and I need help
Me: ...did you read the book?
Julia: There’s a book?!
Me: Julia! It’s English LITERATURE
Julia: Fuck.
Me: Just come over tomorrow and we’ll figure it out
Julia: What would I do without you?
Me: You would probably be dead.
Julia laughs at the message and I put my phone away just as Alex, Bianca, and Zoe come into the dining room speaking loudly with Mom right on their heels.
Once everyone’s seated, everyone starts moving around the table, talking loudly, laughing, and filling up their plates with food. Alex sits next to me, so I spend most of the time wrapped up in a conversation with him and Dad about a new HBO show we’re watching together with the occasional input from Daniel who is still a few episodes behind.
It’s a feel-good dinner, one of the last of the summer, and I smile long after it’s over.
I never even saw the trouble brewing on the horizon.
