Chapter 30: Soccer Fun

                                    

                                          
The next morning in school, I slumped down at the cafeteria table with my breakfast tray in my hand. Mariel was singing to a Twenty One Pilots song. She took off her headphones when she saw me.
                          
"Rough night?" she asked.
                          
I'm sure she could tell by my messy hair and the dark circles beneath my eyes. "Very rough night," I replied.
                          
"Same," she said then put her headphones back in her ear until Desiree and Liz showed up. The two of them sat beside me, leaving Mariel to herself once again. Maybe Mariel liked sitting by herself, I thought.
                          
"Hey hey, party people," Liz said. I waved at her and picked at my soft hashbrowns. "What happened to you? You look awful," she said.
                          
I smiled at her. "Thanks. All girls love hearing that," I joked.
                          
Desiree laughed. "She's always rude, not just to you."
                          
Some guys passed Mariel, but before they sat down, they yelled, "Hey, emo arms!" at her.
                          
Mariel shook her head. "Idiots."
                          
"Don't listen to them," Desiree said. "They probably wank off to animal porn on the school bus."
                          
Mariel burst into laughter along with the rest of us. "Seriously Desiree, why do you even think like that?" Liz asked.
                          
"What's emo?" I asked them, quickly changing the topic.
                          
Mariel faced me. "To normal people, it means emotional. To middle schoolers, it's a person who cuts themselves and listens to punk rock bands all day. Or depressed girls and boys who dream to die. That's how the school thinks." She shrugged. "I don't do labels, but if I had one I would be scene. I do love the rock and roll styles."
                          
"Labels are stupid," Desiree said. "Why is everything labeled? That gay, that emo, that retard. Can't we all just be people?"
                          
Liz laughed. "No sweetie, not in this life."
                          
"Maybe in the next?" Desiree asked.
                          
"Probably not," Liz said before taking a bite of her hashbrown. "Did you go to the nurse yesterday about the tryouts, Violet?"
                          
"Yes. I'm signed up and everything." I told them. "She says I can start ASAP. I just have to meet with the coach."
                          
"We'll meet with him at lunch time," Liz said. "That way we can get your uniform and your position."
                          
"I've never played before," I said. "I probably suck."
                          
"Our whole team sucks, so don't worry," Mariel said.
                          
The bell rung and all of us headed to out classes. I stopped at my locker and when I got there, I saw a note attached to it. It said: Meet me next to my house at 5. Ryan. I felt my stomach turn. Not in a bad way, but in a nervous way. Who knows what he would say to me. I wasn't prepared to face him.
                          
***
                          
After school, the girls and I went straight to the soccer fields. Practice would be from 3 to 4:30 PM that day. I had met the coach during the lunch period and was able to get a soccer uniform. Our coach's name was Tim. We were instructed to call him Coach Tim.
                          
The team was running around the field and we joined in, talking and jogging at the same time. The coach told us to do less talking and more running. In fact, he had to tell all of us that. After running, we stretched, and after that, we did practice kicks inside by the goal.
                          
During our drills, I learned a little bit about the team. Lucille and Ashley were the teams best players. Mariel was a great goalie and caught almost every ball. Terresa had the hardest kick and Mariel avoided her every time. Kiana ran really fast and often did tricks with the ball. Everyone else was like Liz, Desiree, and I. Most of us were new.
                          
The coach told me I was good for a beginner and that I was following directions properly. He was a cool coach. He reminded me of Elvis. He had slicked back shiny black hair, and he wore black baggy pants with a white shirt and black jacket. He looked great and sometimes I would overhear the girls gushing over him.
                          
***
                          
Soccer practice was great. My mind was cleared from any type of negativity while I was on the field. I liked that feeling. 
                          
My anxiety grew when the bus dropped me off. I skipped going home and went over to Ryan's house. He was sitting outside with his guitar. When he saw me, he smiled, ridding me of all the bad thoughts. "Hey," he said. "I want to show you something. But you can't tell anyone about it okay?"
                          
I was curious. Worried, yes, but also curious. I nodded in agreement. "All right," I said. He walked with his guitar and me with my bookbag, still wearing my soccer uniform. Hopefully, wherever we were going, we'd get back home before it got dark.