Page 12 of Striking Heat
“We gotta get to the team room in a bit,” Hendrix reminds us. “The youth would like some autographs and whatnot. No press room for you tonight.” She laughs and begins putting on her warmup.
“Yeah, no press room for me,” I state.
I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. I was really looking forward to seeing what witty little remarks the small man had for me tonight. I wanted to hear about how I lacked attack again. Or how he felt that our team didn’t belong in this town. I was going to make him eat his words. I smile wickedly thinking of all of the things I could say to him.
“What’s up with you?” Cass sits on the bench in front of me, head cocked to the side, eyes searching for something. A knowing smile that crosses her face tells me that shethinksthat she found what she is looking for. “Was someone looking forward to talking to Danny tonight?” she says in a teasing tone.
I try my damnedest but fail to keep the flush off my checks. “More like looking forward to giving him a verbal lashing.”
“What other kind of lashing would you like to give him?” she teases.
“None,” I say sternly, hoping she believes me. But the knowing smile on her face says otherwise. Once my warmup is on, I turn to her and say, “We’ve gotta get to the team room. The youth await.”
We make our way in, and the girls cheer for us as we enter. I smile and my heart fills with warmth to see all of the girls excited to see us. I wonder for a brief second what it would be like if we had lost. Would they be so happy? Would I be signing as many pictures and jerseys or taking pictures with them as I am now? Moving around the room, I feel eyes on my back. I smirk because I know exactly who those eyes belong to.
I turn and find him watching me and making notes on his notepad. I nod in his direction, and he returns it. The same man who was beside him on the field is standing with him now, a camera slung around his neck, which he quickly whips up and snaps a picture of. I look away and head back to the kids.
Thankfully, there are no interviews from the media tonight. Instead, the little kids are interviewing us. My favorite question comes from a little girl with long blonde hair and green eyes. She reminds me of me when I was a little girl.
“What did it feel like when you scored that goal?” she asks.
“Which one?” I wink in her direction, and she giggles. “It was amazing! It took a lot of teamwork from all of us to make it happen. What’s your name?”
“Alexis.” Her voice is loud, and her shoulders straighten as she tells me her name.
“What position do you play?”
“Striker, just like you,” she replies proudly.
“That’s wonderful. I hope you’ll keep coming back to the games. Next time, if you come see me at the end of the game, I’ll see if I can get you on the field to dribble around with me.” I swear her green eyes might pop out of her head.
“That would be so awesome! You can really do that?”
“I sure can,” I tell her.
I hear the clicking of a camera again. Something about Danny being in the room makes my skin vibrate, and the tension is palpable every time our gaze meets. My eyes narrow on him, butDanny, being the arrogant jerk, I’ve come to know, just smirks and shakes his head. That smirk makes my stomach flip for a second.
I turn back to Alexis. “I hope you’ll come to another game.”
“I’m sure we will. My daddy bought season tickets, even though he said we should have just stuck to Orlando,” Alexis announces.
Her dad is standing behind her, his face beet red. “I didn’t mean that,” he stammers out.
I nod. He absolutely did mean that, but I try not to let it damper my mood as I smile and take pictures with her and her friends.
My mood doesn’t change until we’ve left the arena, and I’m seated around a table with Cassie, Amelia, Hendrix, and Andie. Andie doesn’t always come out with us. As the assistant coach, she has to keep her distance from us to remain professional. They’re all in the mood to celebrate, and I should be too, but that comment Alexis’s dad made is bothering me.
“What’s up, girl?” Andie asks me. She pushes a strand of her short blonde hair from her face. “You should be happy after you scored two goals tonight. You were on fire!”
The girls all cheer, and Cassie smacks me on the back. “Yeah, what’s bugging you? Is it that stupid reporter? We didn’t even have to talk to him tonight.”
But he was there, I want to say. I could feel the judgment oozing off him. “I had the perfect comeback for him too.” I shake my head and sip my beer.
“You might still get the chance to use it. He’s over there at the bar.” Hendrix points him out.
“Don’t point!” I squeal a little too loud.
“I’m the one who is going to draw attention to us?” Hendrix smirks.
