Page 72 of The Longshot

I’m this team's captain, meaning nothing can stand between me and being my absolute best for my boys. So far, this season has been nothing shy of perfection—and even despite the lingering thoughts in the back of my mind, I don’t intend for that to change.

“Ready, lads?” The ref joins us on the field, ready to conduct the coin toss to determine who will be first to start with the possession of the ball.

“Heads,” I immediately call out my tried-and-true option as I watch the coin do somersaults in the air until the ref catches it, places it on top of his palm, and slowly reveals the face I so diligently called out.

“Crawfield will start with first possession,” they announce, gesturing their hand in my direction.

With a smile on my face, I nod, shaking hands momentarily with the other team’s captain until the rest of the boys join me on the pitch.

“Listen, I want a nice, clean game today, boys,” the ref requests as Hart joins me up front to begin kickoff.

The comment is blatantly directed towards Hart, given he’s got the most yellow cards this season. The guy is like an animal on the pitch, so much so that Coach made him sign up for ballet classes. Said he needed to learn a thing or two about being graceful.

We laughed at first, but that shit has really cleaned up his act, and now I’m debating signing myself up as well.

“But of course, ref,” Hart shoots him a coy smirk. “Would you expect anything less?”

The ref rolls his eyes at Hart's comeback and brings the whistle to his lips. “Ready, and?—”

*Phwwwwwhht*

And so it begins.

CHELSIE

“Here, come this way.” I follow behind Delaney as we weave our way through the excitable Crawfield crowd.

“Are you sure about this, Delaney?” I shout out. “I hope this isn’t too much trouble.”

“Nonsense,” she calls back out to me, stopping at the bottom of a set of stands right in the middle of the pitch. “Besides, we’re here now.” She gestures just up ahead. “See the girl who’s sat just up there?”

I follow her finger toward a girl with light brown hair who sits patiently with a book in her hands, waiting for the game to begin.

“Her?” I ask, confirming that we’re looking at the same person.

“Yeah.” Delaney smiles. “That’s Hazel. She’s sat in the friends and family section. So, you can sit there with her. Go on.”

I gulp. “I don’t know…” I can't help but feel reluctant to be in such an intimate section of the field, given that I'm neither a friend nor family member of Gary’s. I’m in this awkward phase of what the hell are we? Doubt there’s a section for that.

Besides, what if he sees me? Will he think that’s weird? Or will he be happy?

Ugh. This internal conflict is exhausting.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?” Delaney gently pushes me to work my way up the stands. “Don’t be silly, the game is about to start! I’ll meet up with you after, and I’ll take you to see Wilks,” Delaney says with a final nudge. “Enjoy the game!”

I wince out a smile as I reluctantly make my way up the stands, using the girl in a Crawfield jersey as my guide map on where to stop until, finally, I reach her section.

“Um, hi.” I’m stupidly awkward as I take a seat beside her—prompting her head to lift up from her novel. “I’m Chelsie,” I attempt to introduce myself. “Uh… Delaney said I could sit here with you? That’s okay, right?”

“Oh, that’s more than okay.” She smiles, extending her hand out for me to shake. “I’m Hazel Collins. It’s nice to meet you, Chelsie!”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” I’m receptive to her touch before I make myself comfortable in my seat, taking a second to take in the pure size of the field—the players look like ants from up here. That doesn’t stop me from being able to identify Gary, as he’s first to line the pitch, standing with the ref as they begin their coin toss.

“You know, I really hope they get first possession.” Hazel leans in close, both of her fingers crossed, until the ref signifies that Crawfield will start first. “Yes!” She jumps up enthusiastically. “Nice job, Wilks!” she cups her hands around her mouth and screams out.

I shield my face out of sight, worried that Gary might look over. “Sorry,” she apologizes, seemingly picking up on my gesture. “I just get really excited, that’s all. The team has so much momentum when they start with first possession. It boosts their confidence, I swear!”

“That’s okay,” I reassure her. “Don’t apologize. I’m just… not used to this atmosphere, that’s all. It’s all new to me.”

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