Kicked Read Free

me. Encouragement lived in the small upturn of his lips, and I needed all the help I could get.
    “Look. We’re tied. Twelve seconds left. After the penalty, it’s going to be a twenty to twenty-one yard kick. If you miss it, we go to overtime, and then it’s on me. No pressure. We can still win it. You can do this. The team needs you, but it’s not life or death.” He put a hand on my shoulder pads and pinned me with his green gaze.
    I wanted to shrug him off, but I needed the comfort. My knees turned to jelly as the kicking team crowded around Trent and me. The other players watched us, most of them with an “oh shit” look on their faces. I didn’t blame them. Counting on the third-string Mav to win the game wasn’t a very comforting proposition for anyone, especially me.
    “Cordy.” Trent moved his hand closer to my neck and his thumb grazed my bare skin. “We can do this. Together. Okay?”
    He rubbed his thumb back and forth against my collar bone. The stadium noise, the glares of my teammates, and even the fear that bubbled in my heart all faded as I focused on that one single point of contact. I hated Trent, but I was also starved for him. How could I still crave him after all this time?
    Don’t fall for it.
    I stepped back, and he dropped his hand as his smile faltered.
    “Time-out is almost over. Get out there!” Coach yelled, and the mass of players around me pushed onto the field.
    The Eagles defense was lined up and waiting.
    I snugged my helmet over my hair and ran out onto the field. A couple of the red-jerseyed defenders whistled and cat-called as I approached the left hash. My heart had never beat so quickly, and I thought I might go the way of Pate and lose my lunch all over the field.
    The crowd roared as the announcer called out my number and name. “She’s a Lady” played over the speakers, and the chances of vomiting rose exponentially. My knees wobbled, and my hands went numb, but I kept trotting to the line of scrimmage. There was nothing else I could do.
    “Remember, we can still win even if you miss it.” Trent trotted at my elbow. “I’ll take it to overtime and shove it up their tailpipes with a touchdown. Just do your best. And get the kick off as quickly as possible.” Trent pointed to the play clock. “They will be diving to block this ball.”
    I needed to get my bearings, but my brain didn’t respond to my request, only sort of fizzed and tingled. So screwed.
    He moved me back a foot or so and pointed to the ground. “I’ll have the ball ready for you on this spot. So, line up from here.”
    I froze. I’d practiced and made these kicks a few times with Coach Carver, but I’d never actually had to try it with the team on the field.
    When Jared went down, I was worried. When Pate upchucked, I was scared. But now that I stood on the field, I realized I was screwed.
    “Cordy.” Trent leaned down and bumped his helmet into mine so we were face to face. All I could see were his light green eyes. “Calm down. Breathe. This is just like soccer, okay? The only difference is that you can’t line drive it. Get your foot under the ball and you’ll be fine.”
    “I-I don’t know if I can do it.” I hated the tremble in my voice. Even worse, I hated that I was desperate enough to rely on the most unreliable man I’d ever met.
    “You have to. The team needs you, and I know you can do it. Pretend like it’s just another practice.” He patted my helmet. “It’s a chip shot. You got this.” He walked to the line and gave our players some last-second instructions as the other team’s taunts continued filtering through my helmet.
    “This is definitely not soccer.” I craned my head back to stare at the goal posts as the ref blew the whistle.
    “Cordy, get set.” Trent knelt, ready to catch the ball and hold it for me to kick.
    The play clock ticked as I took a few steps backwards and then shimmied a few steps to the left. Trent stared back at me, his eyes shadowed