Mutual Hatred - Love Game (34 page)

BOOK: Mutual Hatred - Love Game
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Pity. The fans were all screaming for blood, and Shelley knew it had to happen soon.

And indeed, something did happen. Shelley wasn't exactly sure what exactly went on (she had turned around and covered her face; it was just too much to stand), but judging from the cheers, it had to be good. She turned around and saw Kyle Stanford hauling ass to the end zone.

Weren't they glad she made them run so much?

But now wasn't really the time to think about things like that. She was jumping up and down, screaming (along with everyone else). Her heart was beating madly and it stopped for a fraction of a second (okay, maybe more) when a Parkridge player broke free and started running after Kyle. The enemy was gaining on them, and by the looks of it, the opponent's number twenty-two was going to catch Kyle.

Please God,
Shelley prayed silently,
please let Kyle make a touchdown. Please, please, please. Let the other guy trip and fall or something. Just don't let him catch Kyle.

It was times like these that Shelley believed in not only God, but also miracles. Johnny Nickol shot like a bullet out of nowhere and tackled the Parkridge player, leaving Kyle free to make the touchdown.

Score! Literally, in this case.

The Wilson fans really went off at this. It was hard to collect your thoughts when the noise around you wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Kyle had scored a touchdown. That meant Wilson was up 6 to nothing against Parkridge! Gosh, if anything, Shelley had expected Parkridge to score the first points. As long as Wilson kept the momentum up, there was hope that they could win!

It was probably the best feeling slash thought that Shelley would have all night.

They had the opportunity to score another point, and they did, making the current score 7-0 in favor of Wilson.

The whistle was blown, signaling half time. The teams trudged off the field and into the locker rooms as the cheerleaders from both teams went to the middle on the field for their half-time show. It was probably the most intense competition that Shelley had ever witnessed this year. And yes, she was talking about the cheerleaders. It looked like the ultimate showdown between Brianna Lawler, the Wilson cheer captain, and a skinny, almost anorexic looking girl from Parkridge, who Shelley assumed to be the captain. Shelley felt that yearn to be part of the cheer squad again, but like the first time, the moment passed as quickly as it came. Cheer was over, football was her life now.

Or at least it would be for another hour.

And then it would all be over, just like that.

Just breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Come on, Shelley. You can do this!

Shelley marched to the locker room, head held high. They were up by seven, and if she wanted to keep the score that way, she was going to need to give her team more encouragement. She wanted them to be motivated, but she also needed them to be aware of the fact that maybe Parkridge was just waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Okay, men, listen up, and listen up well," she announced. "We're up by seven, and that's great, but we need to step up our game. Third quarter, you guys are going to bring in those plays we worked all week on, got it? I want to see 'Divide and Conquer'-that's the best damn play we've got! No fucking screwing up, okay? I know I sound bitchy, but that's the fucking way you guys feel too. I know it!"

"Yeah!" bellowed Alex. "We're gonna fucking dominate this game!"

"That's the spirit!" cried Shelley. "Keep that up and I promise we'll do well. So…go out there and do what you do best!"

"Football isn't exactly what we do best," sniggered Johnny. "Some of us," Johnny let out an obviously fake cough in Brandon's direction, "are good at
masturbating
."

"Sex can wait, masturbate!" retorted Brandon, his remark obtaining laughter throughout the room. "Get over your fucking self."

"Both of you shut up. Seriously," sighed Shelley. "Can't we just be friends and get along for
one
night? That's all I ask of you. And after that, you can kill each other for all I care."

Johnny snorted. "Tell that to Brandon."

"I'm serious, Johnny. Do you want to win or not?"

"Hey, I already fucking blocked a Parkridge guy, ultimately letting Kyle score the touchdown. As far as I'm concerned, I've already done my part."

"Johnny, you're not
done
until the game is over! We still have two quarters to play! Do you not understand that? So if you are going to fucking back out on me now, you can forget it!"

"But I'm fucking tired! C'mon, we're friends, aren't we? How 'bout cutting Johnny a little slack?"

"No," Shelley said firmly. "I don't know what' gotten into you, but you are
not
quitting on me now. No one is!"

"Yeah, stop being so selfish, Johnny-boy," sneered Brandon.

Johnny's face wrinkled in disgust. "
Fine
," he said grudgingly. "I was just kidding, anyways."

"You guys get to rest and relax all you want after this, okay? This is our
last
game ever. I realize that you're tired and you're giving it all you've got, but I need
more
. Please?"

It was tough, but the guys all agreed. They formed a circle and put their hands in together.

"One, two, three-WIN IT!" they chanted together.

Half-time was over. Shelley, the team, and their coaches went back out onto the field. When the Wilson fans saw this, they erupted into a volcano of screams and cheers.

Third quarter went by as quickly as the first half had passed. The majority of Shelley's coaching experience tonight was spent jumping up and down in anticipation. And pacing. You couldn't forget the pacing. No one scored, although near the end of third quarter, it seemed like Parkridge would. But Johnny Nickol, bless his heart, came through again tackled Parkridge's receiver with such force that Shelley was afraid he had crushed the Parkridge player.

Football was such a dangerous sport. After witnessing this, Shelley was glad she hadn't joined the boys' football team. They were brutal.

Thankfully, Johnny got up and so did the receiver, although he had to be helped off the field. Shelley gave Johnny two thumbs up and signaled to the referee, calling him out of the game.

As Johnny trotted back over to the sidelines and his teammate took his place, Shelley clapped a hand on Johnny's back and said, "Good block! Thanks a ton, Johnny."

Johnny took off his helmet and wiped a pool of sweat from his forehead. "All in a day's work," he grinned.

"Well as a reward for all your hard work, you can rest. I just hope Parker doesn't screw up," said Shelley.

Johnny studied Shelley's face carefully. "Hey, you didn't have to take me out of the game. I can still play, you know. Football is about endurance. I can do it!" he said earnestly.

"No," Shelley shook her head, "Carl Parker has been itching to play all night. I figure we'll let him. What have we got to lose?"

Oh, just about
everything
.

There was a whistle that signaled the end of the third quarter. Only twelve more minutes to go, and the score was still seven to nothing! Even though they were winning, Shelley knew that there was always the possibility that Parkridge would come through and score.

The players all gathered around her once more, but Shelley shook her head vigorously.

"Mr. Wise is going to have the honor of coaching the last quarter," she told them solemnly, but her eyes were twinkling. "After all, it
is
his last game ever."

"It's you're last game too!" pointed out Brandon.

"For most of us, it's our last game. But this is the last one Mr. Wise will ever coach. I mean, who knows? I might come back in a few years. So Mr. Wise," said Shelley, backing up to make space for the old man to come through, "They're all yours."

"Thank you, my dear," Mr. Wise said kindly. Then his personality took on a whole new look. It was just as fierce, determined as the fifty-one boys standing around him, waiting for orders. "Now, gentlemen, these last twelve minutes determine your future. I know you've been playing your best for the past three quarters, but this one has got to count, you hear? We're going to win, damnit! I want you to go out there, take that ball, and run with it-literally. And we're going to play the 'special play.'"

The boys nodded in understanding and went to their respective positions.

"What special play?" demanded Shelley. "Why don't I know about it? And when did you have time to practice it?"

Mr. Wise smiled. "Oh, it's a special play we've been practicing after hours with you in mind. This one is going to score us another touchdown," he said confidently.

We hope so.

And it did happen. With forty-five seconds left on the scoreboard, it was obvious Parkridge would only be able to even up the score. But that couldn't happen, because Wilson was in possession of the ball. And even though she was actually paying attention this time, Shelley completely missed the play. She really did. All she saw was Brandon throw the ball to Kyle.

But somehow, Carl Parker (god bless his heart, too) wound up scoring the touchdown. By this time, everyone knew it was over for Parkridge. Shelley couldn't believe her eyes. They were going to win
just like that
? Surely this was a joke. Parkridge was ranked number one in the STATE and they were going down 13-0?

Wow. Miracles
do
happen once in awhile.

Shelley didn't even bother watching the rest of the game. She was busy jumping up and down, running around to all the other coaches and hugging them. This was possibly the happiest moment of her life.

The final buzzer sounded, and just like that, the game was over.

"YEEEEEEEEAH!" screamed Shelley at the top of her lungs. She was so incredibly happy that nothing, not even Chelsey fucking Smith could bring her down tonight.

The two teams met in the middle to shake hands. Shelley went along too and shook hands with the Parkridge head coach.

"Well, well, well," the man said knowingly. "So you're the little lady responsible for this team. Congratulations, and well done."

"Hey, thanks. Your team played a pretty good game too," said Shelley, not really meaning it.

He shook his head. "No, we played badly tonight. I guess we underestimated you. But next year, we'll be prepared. We'll meet again, Ms…"

"Sinclair," she supplied. "But I doubt we'll meet again at CIF finals. I'm leaving for college next year."

"Well best of luck in your endeavors, then," he said, tipping his cap and saluting her.

She admired Parkridge's good sportsmanship. They were accepting their defeat quite well, especially for such a good team. Shelley knew that if Wilson had lost, she'd be very mad, not to mention in tears.

As she trudged back to their side, all of the supporters came rushing down onto the field. She grinned to herself, mostly out of delirium. Her eyes were starting to droop, and she felt like she would collapse any moment now.

Brandon came out of nowhere and swung an arm around her shoulders. "Hey Shelley, are you going to the after-party at Kyle's?"

Shelley shook her head. "No thanks, I'm kind of tired from all the excitement; I've only been running on adrenaline all day, no energy drinks or caffeine. I don't think my body can handle a party," she said weakly.

"But we won! You totally deserve to go crazy!" She shook her head again. "Aw, you're no fun," said Brandon. But he wasn't about to let a girl ruin his night just because she wasn't going to a party. No, he had better things to think about, like how drunk ass fuck he was going to get tonight. And the best part was everyone else would be getting drunk too.

Uh oh. We'd better hope there are cops-and a lot of them-out tonight.

Brandon gave Shelley a quick squeeze and jogged off to be congratulated by his family and friends on a well-played game.

Shelley shook her head knowingly. Some things would never change. And how the guys on the team could have played such an intense game and
still
have energy was beyond her. She was wiped, and all she'd done was boss them around and cover her eyes.

She finally spotted her parents among the mass of people. As she made her way over to them, people she knew, and even people she didn't know, came up to her to offer their congratulations. She thanked all of them in a daze; after awhile, everyone was starting to look the same.

"Congratulations, darling!" cried Mrs. Sinclair as she hurried forward to her daughter. "You guys did great!"

"Thanks mom," said Shelley. "Did you even know what was going on?"

"Of course I did!" said Mrs. Sinclair, looking offended.

"Only because I gave you the play by play," quipped Mr. Sinclair.

"Oh, you just always have to ruin everything, don't you, Sean? Well Shelley dearest, do you want us to drop you off at Kyle's house for the party?"

Once again, Shelley shook her head. "Nah, I'm kind of tired."

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