Looking around at her yard, she felt satisfied at what she’d accomplished today. Time for a shower maybe she could study. No such luck, she was tired, not enough to
sleep. Instead she laid down on the couch and watched
TV. Eventually she dozed off.
* * *
Stephen sat in his apartment and nursed a beer while
he stared blankly at the soccer game, a rerun on TV. He’d
left the game and gone home immediately, not being
much company for anyone. What had he done? He’d
allowed this infatuation with Reye to come before the
game. That had never happened before. Reflecting back,
he realized that he’d spent most of the time trying to touch
her, to feed a desire for her that he couldn’t shake after two
weeks in her bed. He had enjoyed the challenge of keeping
her from scoring with the side benefit of being close. He’d forgotten that he was there to help his team win. His team
mates depended on him, and he’d let them down.
This semester was coming to an end. Thanksgiving was
two weeks away, and then Christmas. One more semester
and he was done. Next, his focus would shift to studying
and passing the bar exam. Although he had been raised to
pursue law, he really did love it and had aspirations of sur
passing his father and grandfather in his law career.
His cell rang and he reached for it, hoping it was and
wasn’t Reye. It was his mother. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, Stephen, how are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.” She could always judge his
mood by his voice.
“I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I had a game today.”
“Oh,” she said. “How is school?”
“It’s good,” he answered. “How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. What are your plans for Thanksgiving? Do
you know when you’ll be coming home?”
“No, not yet.” That was his mom, no fawning stuff
for her. It wasn’t that she was cold, she just had her own
agenda and marched forward with it.
“Well, let me know soon. I wanted to finalize our
plans. I had hoped to invite Beth and her family over
sometime during the holidays. Check your schedule and call me back soon.”
“Will do, Mom. Bye.”
He hung up and went back to staring at the TV. He
checked his watch again; eight o’clock. His thoughts
again turned to Reye. Wonder what she was doing? He’d
looked forward to spending the evening with her after
the game. The play between them earlier had been fore
play for him, and he’d planned to finish by making love
to her this evening. He should call her. He was equal
parts sexually frustrated and angry at himself. He was also
angry at Joe, who’d reminded him why dating Reye
would be difficult.
* * *
Reye woke up, stretched out on the couch. It had to
be around eleven, judging by what was on TV. She
needed to go to bed or she wouldn’t be able to get up in
the morning. She checked her telephone, no calls from
Stephen. She missed him. He’d somehow gotten under
her skin in a relatively short amount of time. She wondered what he was doing, and, before she could talk her
self out of it, she picked up the phone and called him. He
answered on the second ring.
“Hey, it’s me. I was just calling to see how you were.
I hadn’t heard from you.”
“
Yeah, I’m fine, I didn’t feel like company after the
game, so I came home. I started in on some homework
and got a bit sidetracked.”
“No worries, then. I won’t keep you,” she said trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Well, call
me if you have some time this week and you want to get
together.”
“Okay, I will,” he said.
“Bye.”
“See ya.”
Reye hung up and continued to lie on the couch,
trying not to feel sorry for her lovesick self.
* * *
She left the center midweek and got into her truck
and sat there. She needed someone to talk to. Sam was
always a good listener when she needed to talk, so she
called him.
“Hey, baby girl.” The sound of his voice was a com
fort to her. He had always been there, would be there for
her, warts and all. Sure, he got on her nerves sometimes, but today she was glad he was her brother.
She couldn’t get any words past the lump in her
throat.
“Is something on your mind?” he asked. He knew
Reye, and he could tell by the sound of her voice when
something was up.
“You remember me talking about Stephen?”
“Mr. Defender?”
“Yes. After our last game he had an argument with one of his teammates about me, the same frat brother
from the party. I don’t think it went well, and, anyway, I
haven’t heard from him since.”
“I thought you two were going at it pretty heavy.”
“That was before his anti-race-mixing friend gave
him a hard time about me again. I think he blames him
self for their team losing the game to us.” She paused.
“Why do you think he’s interested in me?”
Sam could hear sadness and maybe the onset of tears
in her voice. “Ah, Reye, take it easy on yourself. Stephen
is a big boy and I can’t believe he let little ol’ you take him off his game if he didn’t want you to. You are a beautiful,
kind girl. Any guy would be lucky to have you. Come on,
now, don’t worry.”
“Why haven’t I heard from him, then?”
“Have you called him?”
“Yes, later on that night. He said he was tired and so
I didn’t push. I guess I’ll see him at the game on Saturday
if he doesn’t call before then.”
“Try not to worry about it. You know I can knock
him down at the game and you can accidentally run him
over.”
“Thanks, Sam,” she said, laughing a little at his com
ments. “See you Saturday.”
* * *
It was two in the morning Thursday night, or rather
Friday morning, and Stephen had been stuck in the
library conference room with three of his fellow law class
mates, preparing a case study for a presentation before his
professor tomorrow. It was grueling work, and he wanted
to be anywhere but here. Taking a break, he went in
search of a soda, locating one in the vending machine
located on another floor. He wondered what Reye was up
to, remembering the past couple of weeks spent in her
bed. He’d missed her and should have called her on
Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday. The longer he
waited the more like a jerk he felt. Maybe he could talk
to her on Saturday at the game.
* * *
It had taken forever for this day to come, Reye
thought, as she pulled up to the field for the final game
between her team and Stephen’s. She hadn’t seen or
spoken to him for a week. She was beyond hurt now;
really, who was she kidding? She was still hurt, but now
she was really, really angry. He could have called her,
could have at least had the balls to tell her it was over.
She had come to the game prepared to bring it, and
she hoped he would be the one to defend against her. All
of the players from her team had arrived. She didn’t know
if Stephen or his team were here, because she refused to
look over to the other side of the field. Sam had discussed
the team’s strategy with them yesterday and she knew she
would play in the midfield instead of as a striker or for
ward. He felt that Stephen’s team would expect them to
employ the same strategy they had for the previous two
g
ames, but she thought Sam was just looking out for her,
keeping her away from Stephen. They would move her to
the forward position only if they needed her, and only in the second half.
Today Reye would play midfield at least during the first half, far away from Stephen. He was in his usual
position as defender, and he was a really good one. She’d hoped to avoid him for the entire game and leave imme
diately after it ended.
* * *
Stephen was one of the first to arrive at the field,
ready to play. This had been a long week for him, long in
school and long in guilt. He wanted, needed, to apolo
gize to Reye. Maybe he could talk her into hanging out
with him after the game. He’d missed her more this week
than he thought he would. He’d seen her arrive, but he
hadn’t been able to get her attention. She hadn’t so much
as glanced over at his side. He and his teammates were
warming up on one half of the field while Reye’s team took the other half. Maybe he could talk to her during
warm-ups, before the game began. The opportunity
came as a ball was kicked to Reye and it went over her
head and rolled toward him.
“Reye.”
She looked up, eyes unreadable. No smile, no emo
tion. She just scooped up the loose ball, turned, and
walked away from him.
S
tephen was surprised. He’d expected her to be angry,
but he’d thought she’d at least talk to him. Henri, who
had watched the exchange, walked over to him.
“Ouch,” he said with a chuckle.
“What did I do?” Stephen asked, turning to Henri.
“Dude, you don’t know? Really?” Henri shook his
head sadly. “Well, you two were going at it pretty strong,
and then you stopped. Did you ever call her?” Watching
Stephen shake his head no, he continued. “Well, it’s been
my experience that women usually take exception to that sort of behavior.”
Stephen shot him an evil look.
“I’m just saying,” said Henri, backing up with his
hands raised. “Don’t forget we’ve got a game to play
today,” he added.
Stephen shot him the middle finger and strode over
to get into position on the field.
The referees had arrived and both teams were lined
up on the field, ready to play. The whistle blew and the
game began. It was evident as both teams attacked the
ball that they had come ready to play. Both sides ran fast, determined to be first to the ball. In one play, the ball was
kicked to the space in front of Reye. She ran to gain con
trol of the ball, and so did the opposing player. They col
lided, a solid hit that had both falling to the ground.
They were up and on their feet immediately, running
toward the ball again. Reye got there first, gained control
of the ball and passed it off to the forward in front of her.
Stephen met the forward, and not only took the ball
from her, but began to move it down the field toward the
g
oal, intent on scoring. As a midfielder, Reye stood
between him and her defender. Running forward to meet
him, her eyes on the ball, she kicked it away from him and
sent it over to Sam. Her momentum carried her and she crashed hard into Stephen. They fell. He gave her a sharp
look as they both stood up, but neither of them spoke.
Today she played harder than usual. When Stephen
came near her, she did her best to prevent him from
moving the ball, either by leaning into him hard or run
ning to position herself in front of him, stopping his momentum. He was fast, but so was she. In an all-out
foot race, she probably couldn’t beat him, but it was
easier for her to keep up when he had to both maneuver
the ball and run. He began to respond to her physical
play and she noticed a marked increase in his intensity.
The intensity of both teams increased. Both teams played
tough, physical ball. The first half came to a close with
the score tied at zero.
Both teams huddled to re-evaluate strategy. Stephen
would continue to defend, and take any opportunity to
score. Henri turned to him and laughed.