The Beast (8 page)

U
nlike Greenridge, the Yeopin County Muskrats are able to get the ball into our half of the field and keep it there. This means I have to follow the ball as it moves from foot to foot and side to side. By midway through the second half, I've been splashed by so many waves that my legs are locked in the crouched position. We're winning 1–0, but I've needed to make two lunging saves to keep it that way. If I have to make another, I don't know if I'll be able to get up again.

I started the game by yelling as I usually do.

“Back up, Addie!”

“Faith! Watch your right side!”

But at this point yelling makes me dizzy. Just
watching
the game makes me dizzy. I have to squint to make the players look less blurry.

I'm so tired I wish I could close my eyes and go to sleep. Juanita finally pushes the ball into Yeopin Valley's half of the field, and I can quit concentrating so hard. I allow myself to let my heavy eyelids meet for just a moment.

I think it's only a moment, anyway, but it must be longer. Suddenly, Coach is yelling at me, “Duncan! Cut off her angle!”

I open my eyes and see a Muskrat charging at me. I'm too late to go after the ball, so I get ready to dive one way or the other. I feel like I'm thinking and moving in slow motion.
Which way is she gonna go? Left? Right?

I guess left, but my legs don't lift me off the ground like I want them to. It's a good thing they don't, though, because she doesn't kick the ball to the left or the right. She kicks it right at me.

I can't move my hands fast enough to catch the ball or even to knock it out of the way. I can't even move them fast enough to protect myself.

The ball collides with my face, and I finally get to go to sleep.

“A
lyssa! Alyssa!”

This time the shouts aren't just from Coach. They're from everyone. My athletic trainer. My teammates. My mom.

“Open your eyes, Alyssa! Please, please open your eyes!”

I do. Briefly. Before falling asleep again, I hear my mother say, “An ambulance is on its way.”

“Stay with us, Alyssa!”

Voices I don't recognize join the noise. I look around.

“That's it. Just stay with us, okay?”

I'm strapped down to something.

“You're doing great, Alyssa.”

This voice sounds like my doctor, but I'm not sure what she means. As far as I can tell, I'm not doing anything at all.

“Alyssa, can you hear me?”

I definitely recognized that voice—even if it's whispered into my ear. I open my eyes and I'm face-to-face with Becca Miller. Her long, lustrous hair swings in and out of my line of sight. “What do
you
want?” I mutter.

As always, she's surprised by the anger in my voice.

“Nothing,” she says. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

Now that her hair's not in my face, I can look around. “Why am I in the hospital?” I ask.

“You were knocked out again,” Becca explains. “The doctor says you're lucky your brain didn't swell up even more than it did.”

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“According to your mom, you've been in and out for a couple hours.”

“Where is she?” Based on the numbness of my hand, she must have just left.

“Getting another box of tissues from the nurse,” Becca says. “She wouldn't leave the room until I promised to keep an eye on you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say.

Becca winces at my sarcasm. “Do you hate me or something?”

“You make it pretty easy,” I say. “You stole my boyfriend and my position on the soccer team. You even stole
my tree
.”

“Me? I
stole…
?” Becca's face puckers up. Even her confused face is cute. “Well, you can have all those things back. I never wanted them in the first place.”

“Becca, I saw you. Up in the tree. With Rick.”

“How was I supposed to know it was your tree? Who claims a tree?”

“And next you're going to say you didn't know Rick was my boyfriend.”

“Of course I knew that. That's why I pushed him away when he tried to make a move on me. Here I was trying to tell him why I was quitting as a goalie, and all he wanted to do was get his hands on me.”

Suddenly I'm the one who's making the confused face. “You want to
quit
playing goalie?”

“I hate playing goalie almost as much as I hate Coach Berg.” The words come out in an angry rush followed by a huge sigh. “No offense, but it's way more fun to score on someone than to get scored on.”

“None taken,” I say. “I'm quitting too.”

“What? You can't. If you quit, then Coach will make me the goalie forever.”

“The whole swollen brain thing doesn't give me much of a choice, does it?”

“Not for this season. But your mom said the doctor thinks you'll be ready for next season.” Becca's so excited that every bit of her is moving. Her fingers are drumming against her thigh and she's rocking back and forth on her heels. “Tell me you're going to keep playing goalie, Alyssa. Please?”

“I'll think about it,” I say, even though I don't need to think about it at all. If and when it becomes safe, I will definitely play again. I already feel myself transforming back into the beast that I am. “You pushed Rick?” I ask.

“Right off the branch.”

“Is he okay?”

“Um. Not really? He broke his arm. But the doctor says it'll heal in plenty of time for his season in the fall.”

I know it shouldn't, but the image of Rick in a sling makes me smile. I guess he was right—the poplar tree really
is
dangerous. Especially if you try to hit on someone who's not your girlfriend.

Honestly, I'm impressed. Maybe Becca does have a little beast in her after all.

I
t's been more than a month since my second concussion, and the wooziness waves are pretty rare these days. In any case, I'm in no rush to get back on the field. The season's over anyway. We made it to the quarterfinals of the state tournament before losing 1–0 in overtime. Becca played great, but as soon as the game was over she told Coach she was never going to be a goalie again. He yelled at her, but what else is new? A part of me was even jealous of her in that moment. If Coach is yelling at you, that means he's noticing you. Hopefully, next year he'll have a few reasons to yell at
me
.

Of course, I plan on doing plenty of yelling too.

But that's all a long ways away. The doctor explained that healing is a slow process full of little steps, and I've been doing my best to follow her advice. Still, I've decided to take a slightly bigger step than normal.

I've decided to climb my tree. In fact, I'm standing under it now. The leaves are still green, and they'll stay that way for the rest of the summer. I take a deep breath and grab a branch. After a few more breaths, I hoist myself up. Finding a comfortable spot, I look at the field and imagine my future.