AIM [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 1: Game On

                 
Emma and Aimee may have had all that ice-cream, but they were certainly at the top of their game. The Lancers won the next four matches, thanks to their striker and goalie. With only one more game to go, the Lancers were even more eager to pull out all the stops against their next opponents. They would be facing the best team in the league so far, but they did not always play fair. After a few red cards to the other team and long after half time, Kirkwood called a time-out. The team huddled up with their arms over each other's shoulders.

"Ladies, we have one shot, if we miss, we lose the league," Kirkwood pointed out, "and we've come too far to leave empty handed!"

All the girls hailed in agreement. Everyone was positive that they were taking that trophy home.

The score was tied up 5 all, and it was the Lancers' last chance. One more goal and they win, but the same went for the other team. With three minutes left in the game, Emma took one more shot and scored. It looked like the Lancers would be going home with the trophy, but at the very last moment, the opposing striker held the ball. Now, everyone was depending on Aimee to block their goal and win them that trophy.

Don't screw up, she thought, syllable by syllable.

She could hear the crowd chanting "Griffiths, Griffiths," which helped lower the level of intensity she felt. She looked to the spectators, all the people cheering her name, and for a split second she lost focus. She saw Stefan in the crowd, staring right at her. While they were sharing glances, the striker made her kick. A poor kick. Somehow, Aimee was able to block it without flinching. The crowd cheered as the Lancers had won the league! The team bundled together and carried Aimee to the trophy giver, who happened to be the coach of the team they had trounced.

Kirkwood gladly accepted the trophy from Mia and the team had their photo taken for the city newspaper. The league was over, the Lancers had won. They had never seen their coach so happy. He decided to host a party at his house to celebrate and everyone on the team, including their parents, was invited. Aimee wanted to go, but with Emma's parents – they were a lot more fun. The two caught up with Mr and Mrs Lincoln on their way to the parking lot.

"Hey Mommy, hey Daddy," Emma and Aimee chorused humorously.

"Hello, you rascals," Mrs Lincoln joked while giving the two a tight hug. "You were outstanding today!"

"Thank you," Emma and Aimee said in unison, almost out of breath.

"Kari dear, you're going to crush them," stated Mr Lincoln.

She ceased, "Oh... right. Sorry girls."

They exhaled and took short, almost panting breaths.

"We forgive you," smiled Emma. "Coach Kirkwood invited the team and their parents to his house for a victory party and we know you'll say yes. Please?" she implored.

Her parents glanced at one another.

"Alright," affirmed Mrs Lincoln, "but first, your father and I have to go to the shop, real quick."

"Aw, well don't be long, okay?" said Emma.

Her parents smiled and walked off. The girls watched them drive down the road in their Mercedes-Benz. The team had already left for Kirkwood's house, so Emma and Aimee decided to walk around the empty stadium, while they waited.

"Wow, we're the only people at the stadium right now," Aimee declared minutes later.

"Yeah, it's just us and the janitors," Emma concluded. "Hey, the stand workers might still be here. I want more ice-cream, do you want more? I want more," she smiled.

Aimee shook her head and tailed Emma once again as she rushed to the ice-cream stand.

"Yummy! I'll have a double scoop, one fudge flavour and one chocolate on a sugar cone, please? Keep the change," – a five dollar tip – "Aim, you want a taste?"

"No thanks, I'm going to go shower before the janitors lock up," replied Aimee. "Wait for me, okay?"

"Okay, I'll be here, ordering ice-creams!" shouted Emma as Aimee trotted away.

As soon as she returned to her locker, she tossed her gear into the locker labelled with her surname, and made her way to the showers.

"Here's to a game well-played," she thought as she turned on the water and took a step inside.