I glanced back to see Dane standing on the field, looking oddly amused, while Lauren came gunning for me. For a second, I thought I’d grossly underestimated her, but thankfully, I was faster. I slammed the ball between the two markers at the end of the field and the crowd broke into startled cheers.
I turned to Dane, ready to bask in the glow of his newfound respect, but he was chatting up some girl on the sidelines. I wanted to knock that smile off his face.
We met up midfield for another face-off—me against Lauren this time. I won the ball, racing it down the field as Lauren slammed her stick onto mine, trying to get me to drop it. Frustrated that she couldn’t shake me, she hurtled her stick between my feet. I fell hard, skidding on my knees.
The ref opened his mouth to call a foul, but closed it when Tommy clasped his hand on his shoulder.
“You’re finished,” Lauren spat as she swooped up the ball, passing it to Dane.
My knee was a bloodied mess. I ripped a strip of cloth from the hem of my so-called dress and tied it around my knee.
The community exploded as Dane scored a goal. One to one.
I tried to play it off, but I needed Dane to take me into the corn. Marie was trying to tell me something . . . show me something. I had to win this.
“Are you hurt?” Rhys panted, purposefully not looking down.
“Just a scratch,” I said as I got to my feet.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“No.” I laughed.
If nothing else, it felt good to let out some aggression. There were so many emotions rattling around inside of me that were begging for release.
Lauren and I faced off again. Angus threw the ball into the air and dove away from the hot zone. I’d just taken the ball when I felt Lauren’s stick come down hard on my shoulder, which made a sickening pop. The pain made me scream—my arm had come out of the socket. But I couldn’t give in. I gritted my teeth and managed to keep control of the ball with my one good arm. Halfway down the field, I felt Dane on my heels. Rhys advanced to my right; I used all of my strength to hurl the ball in his direction. I missed the mark, but my shoulder popped back into place.
I slowed to catch my breath, thinking Dane would scoop up the ball and rush it to the other end of the field, but he flew right past it. Lauren waited for Rhys at the end zone, Dane coming up fast behind him. They were lining him up and he didn’t even have the ball.
“Watch it!” I called out to Rhys. He was giving me a thumbs-up when they body-checked him from both sides. As he collapsed to the ground, I looked to Angus to do something, but he just stared down at the grass.
The crowd seemed to take in a collective gasp, everyone except for Beth, who jumped up and down, clapping her hands manically like she was trying to save a dying pixie. “Get up, Rhys! You can do it.”
Lauren scooped up the ball and took a leisurely jog down the field for yet another goal.
By the time I got to Rhys, he was dazed, but on his feet. His bottom lip was split wide open. I started having flashbacks of the infamous soccer game/puke festival of 2004. I ripped the makeshift bandage off my knee and held it to his lip.
“What are you doing? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked.
“It’s nothing really. Just a tiny cut. Can I get some water over here?” I called out, hoping he could hold off on vomiting for a couple of seconds.
Tommy grinned as he came onto the field carrying a jug of water. “Ready to call it quits?”
I snatched the jug from Tommy and pulled the rag away to find Rhys’s lip had already surged shut. “What the hell,” I said under my breath.
“What?” Rhys’s eyes went wide. “Is it that bad? Did I lose a tooth?”
“No.” I exhaled, trying to keep the shock off my face. “It’s fine. Better than fine. It doesn’t seem to be bleeding anymore.”
“But I can still taste the blood in my mouth.” He started to gag.
“Oh God, okay, just swish your mouth out and spit.”
Rhys took a gulp of water and swished it around, but then froze. He looked like a very confused blowfish. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a smile. Rhys thought spitting in public was the grossest thing in the world.
“Just spit it out, you moron.” Tommy pounded him on the back and Rhys turned his head, spraying it all over Tommy’s face.
I burst out laughing and then Rhys did, too.
“Classic.” I grinned as I handed Tommy the jug and slung my arm around my brother’s shoulder as we walked back to center field.
Rhys and Lauren took the next face-off.
“You and your girl play dirty,” I said to Dane.
“Whining already?” Dane smiled mischievously. “This is why we don’t usually let girls play.”
“Any tips?” Rhys glanced back at me, shifting his weight nervously between the balls of his feet.
“Just try to get the ball,” I said.
“Really? That’s your advice?”
I shrugged.
By some miracle Rhys managed to catch the ball on the end of his stick, and we all took off after him.
I came up quick behind Lauren and rammed into the back of her knees, sending her crashing to the ground. Rhys barely managed to slip past Dane to make the goal. We were tied.