Page 10 of Offside Rule

I had done what I did to help him, but it seemed like it had backfired. I just hoped it wouldn’t affect him too much.

SIX

XAVIER

The boos and panted breaths of the crowd surrounded me, the ground under my feet seeming to crumble as I watched the game I was supposed to play, my heart in my throat. My place was out there, but I was the one to blame for not being on the field with my brothers.

The only thing worse than having to see all of this from the tribunes was that I had to watch them lose. And there was nothing I could do to help.

Warm air swept into my lungs and across the perspiration on my skin, the score flashing like a reminder in front of me. A minute fifty, and we were down two points.

Coach kept throwing glances at me over his shoulder. I tried to ignore him, but when the other team scored a goal, I couldn’t help but pin him with a glare.

I wanted him to know that I was blaming him for this equally.

Before I could lash out at him, he spoke first. “Xavier, get your ass herenow.” The way he spoke made me feel like I’d done something bad, but I ignored it and walked over to him. He didn’t even wait for me to acknowledge him; he just put a hand on my shoulder and gritted his teeth. “I need your help on this one. Help your brothers win.”

I knew asking me something like this was a nightmare for him, but I also knew I didn’t have enough time to call him out on it. So, I drew in a deep breath and squinted at my team.

“Put Vane, Andrew, and Paul out there. It’s the only way out of this,” I told him.

Coach hesitated for a moment before he nodded his head and did as I said. I was surprised that, for once, he’d listened to what I had to say and acted on it.

This change didn’t guarantee us a win, but I was sure that we could at least equal the score, and prayed we’d have a penalty advantage again.

The guys quickly swapped, and Shawn, Miguel, and David came back, sweat pouring from their foreheads.

“Good work.” I clapped them on the back before moving my attention back to the game.

It took us over thirty minutes to get two goals in; when Vane was about to attempt the third, a whistle blew over the chatter. Fire Girl just gave a red card to one of our opponents for hindering Paul.

My eyes swept to her. Her forehead was pulled into a frown, and a red curl escaped from her tight ponytail and lingered on her glistening skin.

I wondered if she’d seen the articles going around the internet. They had accused her of favoritism and revolted over the fact that I hadn’t gotten what I deserved. I didn’t give a shit about what people thought about me, but I didn’t want that to affect her. She had no fault in this.

There was something that drew me to her, but I couldn’t figure out what. Could it be her skill and interest in football, or was it her stunning looks? I had no idea, but some part of me wanted to know more about her.

Fire Girl raised the card into the air, her fingers tight around it.

The guy immediately threw his hands up. “Are you kidding me?”

His eyes scanned over the tribunes, where some people got up and cheered, while others booed in annoyance. He flinched, his face turning red. Suddenly, he marched towards her.

Before I knew it, I was standing at the edge of the field, glaring at him. When she noticed his eyes fixed beyond her, she turned around. Her beautiful green eyes settled on me, and caused her eyebrows to dig together in confusion. I enjoyed the feeling of having her entire attention on me, but the fucker needed to be dealt with first.

“Keep walking,” I warned him, my tone bitter.

He kept eye contact, looking like he wanted to talk back, but the look on my face changed his mind. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered, then stormed off the field. I caught him by his collar before he could get far, not knowing what had gotten into me.

“Say one more thing about her, look her way one more fucking time, and I’ll make sure a red card is the last thing you have to worry about.” I spat out the threat, and enjoyed the fright in his eyes for a moment before letting him go and returning to the benches.

When I sat down next to our coach, I ignored the curious looks and turned my attention back to her. She stood there in the middle of the field with a question in her eyes before she sobered, and whistled for the game to start again.

I knew this was going to be all over the news, but I didn’t care.

For the rest of the match, all I could focus on was her; when SBU won, I searched for her face in the crowd.

SEVEN

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