Terrestrial Alien ✔

Chapter 20: Rainout

Joshua

The sky grows dark gradually, starting after the coin toss and only darkening after the first whistle blow. The cold, slick rain starts coming down before half-time, augmented only by the spiteful, howling wind; and yet the game goes on. Of course it does, the only thing that could stop it now would be a natural disaster, lightning, or every single player suddenly dropping with mysterious injury. (Not that that's ever actually happened.)

The parents in the stands shiver and shift awkwardly under their umbrellas, some of them having left or taken shelter in their cars. Coach Brown has taken her team into the gym to keep them as warm and as dry as possible before their game. I have eyes only for the ball, but somehow I can feel the pair of emerald eyes on me, and it only spurs me to run faster.

The game has already been going on for a while, and Windsor has the lead by two points.

Marc, Windsor's lead striker, has the ball, and he's quickly taking it back out of the Wizard's half of the field, but I race to intercept him. The rain is causing our uniforms to stick to us, and I have to repeatedly slick my wet bangs out of my eyes; Marc has to blink water out of his eyes as well, and maybe that's why I'm able to take the ball from him so easily. He stops as I come up on him, and he tries to maneuver the ball through his legs to get around me, but I dart forward and kick it out from under him.

The teammates closest to me cheer, and they keep on their marks to hinder their pursuit of me. The momentary second Marc loses while realising he's lost the ball, while having to turn around after me, gives me the lead I need to keep ahead of him as I take the ball out of Tiger territory and into the Wizard's half. The parents seem to have caught on by now, and they holler encouragement and sporty chants that I don't hear. The only thing in my head is the roar of blood through my veins and the shudder of each exhale. Time goes slow and quick all at once.

I race across the field, Marc close behind, his defense darting to intercept me. I quick-step around the backliner right in front of me, and the guy trips over his feet as he tries to keep up. I almost make it to 18-yard line when Marc overtakes me, and I have to take the shot. The world goes bright for a moment and I can't see if I make it, then it comes back and the ball is flying past the goalie's finger tips into the right corner of the net and the crowd—and my team—goes wild.

I turn around with the widest grin on my face, and Marc is breathing hard in front of me. He's shaking water from his hair and despite himself, he's smiling too. Davy, the other striker from Grand Junction whom I hadn't even noticed pacing me for a pass, comes up and claps me roughly on the shoulder.

"Nice shot, Gonzalo!" He screams, and I roar with him.

Marc knocks my shoulder as well, though less roughly. "Fuck," he pants, "you're faster than I remember."

"Damn right," I crow, and he makes a good natured but frustrated sound of agreement before shifting around me to check on his goalie.

The teams were already moving for the reset when the refs start tweeting their whistles incessantly. What? I look between them and the goal, wiping my hair out of my face again. The ball made it into the net, I saw it! I know I didn't foul, I can shoot from where I was!

But the shot wasn't the problem, I realise very quickly. The sky splits with a crack of thunder that rumbles in my chest, and players from both teams groan in protest. We all know the rules though: Thunder means there's lightning, and lightning means there's no game. We're just going to have to wait for the storm to die down and the lightning to pass.

The referees keep blowing their whistles at us, gesticulating, and our coaches gesture to come off the field. Some of us go eagerly, while the majority of us come off resentfully and begrudgingly, me included. Marc and I share are look before heading to our respective coaches to get the lowdown.