Forgotten Dreams

THE SOCCER STADIUM at UC Berkeley looked impressive in person. I admired the freshly cut grass, inhaling the damp air as the evening fog rolled in.

“Soccer players don’t stop to smell the grass, Reilly. Get out there. You’re CM. Show us what you’ve got,” Coach Reynolds yelled from across the field.

Central Midfielder. I guess my reputation preceded me even after all these years.

“Old guy, let’s go!” Coach continued shouting.

The rest of the California Golden Bears soccer team jogged onto the field, bumping me as they passed. They had been practicing together all summer, so not only was I the ripe old age of twenty-one, but I was also the new guy. I knew I would be taking a lot of crap from the team until I proved myself, and Coach making me CM right out the gate wasn’t going to sit well with them. CM was a coveted position that only the most athletic and agile could master. I knew I was more than capable, but the team didn’t know that yet. I had been off the radar for three years, so to them, I was a rookie.

Tragedy had hit like a tsunami this past year, taking from me every last breath of life. I was suffocating in Cliffside with my brother, Brandt, and his wife, Baylor. God, I loved them, but I needed to get as far away from home as possible. I knew I was running, but I didn’t give a crap. Who wouldn’t run from a past like mine? I don’t remember my dad, because he died in a freak hunting accident when I was only four, and I lost my mom and Tessa, the woman I had planned on spending the rest of my life with, to a horrific train accident less than a year ago. So, hell yeah, I was running. I drowned myself in alcohol to numb the sting, but reality kept coming back every time I saw Baylor’s face. She was a spitting image of her sister, Tessa, and I had falsely fallen in love with the idea of Baylor—of having a piece of Tessa back by being with her. How screwed up was that? Falling in love with my brother’s wife? That was when I knew I had hit rock bottom. So I left, leaving behind a decimated past and a string of lies to fool everyone into thinking I was moving on. The only truth I left them with was accepting a soccer scholarship to UC Berkeley. I was still indulging in liquid therapy, which was much easier now that it was legal for me to buy. And I was still in love with my dead girlfriend. And my brother’s wife.

“Show us what you got,” the team captain, Lucas, challenged as I stood toe to toe with him. There were twenty-five on the roster, and we were starting practice with a scrimmage. Lucas and I were both CMs on the same team, and from his tone I sensed he wasn’t happy about it.

“Okay,” I said nonchalantly, not hiding the threatening smirk that crept onto my face.

The coach blew the whistle. Instead of passing to Lucas, I performed a scissor move between one of the opposing center backs, Steven, and then chipped by Jaxon, who was pressuring me at center forward, added a little spin for effect, and made a perfect shot into the goal.

Coach blew the whistle. “What the hell was that, Reilly?” he shouted.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“You got your point across. Now play like you’re on a team,” he spat out.

“Sure thing, Coach.” I shot Lucas a challenging grin across the field.

“Dude, that scissor move was sick,” Steven praised as he slapped my back. “Will you show me how to do that during skills?”

I smiled. “Yeah, man.”

A few of the guys came over to commend me on my footwork. Lucas huffed by the coach, arms crossed over his chest. He’d come around once he let his pride go.

Coach blew the whistle again. “Reset and do it again. This time, pass the ball, Reilly.”

The guys lightened up by the end of practice. It didn’t take long for me to prove I was worthy of being on the team. Some of them were going to a party close by my apartment in Rochdale Village and invited me along. Who was I to refuse my team—or alcohol?

The party was being thrown in an area called The Flats that was on the backside of the building across from my apartment. I had rolled into town late afternoon yesterday and quickly realized the weekends here would not be quiet. I got an apartment, hoping for some privacy when I wasn’t on campus, but it seemed Rochdale Village ran more like a dormitory minus university restrictions. Last night was the Friday before classes officially began, and everyone was out in masses around the complex, drinking, getting high, and getting to know each other on a very intimate and public basis. Tessa had had a wild side, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by some of the behavior, but I had this preconceived notion that college would be less like high school.

Man, was I wrong.

I threw open the door to my apartment, tossing my soccer bag onto the couch. Baylor had ordered all my furniture and had it delivered before I arrived. She knew I would have settled for a table to eat on, a recliner, and a bed. She had gone overboard, of course. I about fell on the floor when I got here. I was the proud owner of a set of black leather couches, a bar table for four, a bedroom set, and this morning’s delivery held towels and kitchen appliances, some I had no idea what their purpose was. She even had groceries delivered from the local supermarket. That was what made it so easy to fall in love with her after Tessa died. She became a crutch.

I jumped in the shower, exhausted from the three-hour practice. I was used to surfing for hours on end, but that consisted of more resting than actual surfing, especially when the sets were lacking. San Diego wasn’t exactly known for great waves. I debated on skipping the party altogether, but one look in the fridge absent of beer changed my mind. I made myself a turkey sandwich and tossed down a soda before heading out.

When I opened the front door, I instantly heard a crowd of voices echoing through the hallways. This was going to be a long year if I didn’t find another apartment building. I made a mental note to look on the internet tomorrow. The click of the neighboring door caught my attention and out fell a girl. And I mean fell, literally.

“Ow,” she whimpered.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I leaned over to help her.

“No, not really,” she huffed as she pushed herself up onto her knees. “These stupid heels are the problem.” She yanked them off and tossed them through her open apartment door.

I chuckled.

“Are you laughing at me?” She glared.

I covered my mouth with my hand and coughed back another laugh. “Ummm, no,” I tried to say with a straight face.

“Real nice. I knew this party was a stupid idea. It’ll be filled with a bunch of jerks like you.” She peeled herself off the ground and brushed off her skirt.

I couldn’t help noticing her rack as she bent over.

“Are you kidding me right now? First you laugh at me for almost breaking my leg, and now you’re ogling my breasts? Creep.”

“Whoa.” I shot my hands in the air. “Ease up, little lady. First of all, that fall was pretty funny and you didn’t get hurt. Second, how can I not look at your breasts when they’re falling out of your shirt?”

She looked down with a horrified look and tucked her exposed bra back into her tank top. “Whatever,” she hissed and stormed back into her apartment, slamming the door hard enough to shake the adjacent doors.

That was entertaining. I shook my head, amused, and took the stairs down to the ground floor. The corridors were all exposed to the outdoors, so noise traveled easily. The night had cooled considerably, filling the air with a refreshing chill. I walked across the courtyard, tucking my hands into my pockets, and then walked around the opposite building. There were students everywhere. Some sat on the half-walls, others had brought blankets to lie on the grass, and many brought their own chairs, forming hangout circles. A lot of the apartment doors were left open, and students flowed freely in and out of them. Everyone was either lighting up or drinking. Music bumped loudly from a set of Bluetooth speakers nearby a keg.

This place was unbelievable. Tessa would’ve loved it. This was definitely more her scene than mine.

“Grady, over here,” Steven yelled over the music. The team had formed its own group outside of one of the apartments. Jaxon tossed me a beer as I approached.

“Thanks.” I raised the beer and popped it open, chugging it down immediately.

“Damn, superstar. Here’s another.” Jaxon tossed me a second one. I threw the empty can into a nearby trash can.

A couple of girls hung on some of the players. Soccer was a pretty big deal here, which was the only reason I accepted when I was scouted senior year. It also lent itself to groupies. The school was disappointed when I had declined the scholarship, but when I called at the end of this spring semester, they jumped at the opportunity to have me play, even if it was three years later.

I leaned on a wall next to the group and quietly observed the natural banter among the players. It had been a long time since I had been around anyone besides Brandt and Baylor. When Tessa was alive, I usually hung in the background at parties, giving her space. I should have realized then she was slipping away.

“Hey.” Lucas stood in front of me.

I drank down my beer before responding. “What’s up?”

“Sorry for being a dick earlier.” He stretched out his hand.

I shook it and replied, “No worries.”

“There you are,” the girl who fell upstairs addressed Lucas.

She had changed into a pair of jeans and a California Bears hoodie.

“Oh, it’s you.” She scoffed, shooting a disgusted glare.

Lucas laughed. “I see you’ve met our new guy, Grady Reilly.”

“Of course, he’s on the team. And no, we haven’t met. He was too busy laughing at me as I fell on my ass,” she snapped, but the upturn of her lip gave way to her own amusement with the situation.

I put my hands up defensively. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know she was your girl, and I didn’t mean to laugh at her, but the heels she was wearing were ridiculous. They were, like, six inches tall. The sneakers suit you much better,” I teased her. I hadn’t noticed her deep emerald eyes earlier, but now they sparkled under the floodlight, complimenting her dark hair.

“Ha-ha,” she responded more lightheartedly. “You’re just lucky I didn’t get hurt, or this exchange would look a whole lot different.”

“Oh, yeah? Your boyfriend here would have beaten me up?” I challenged them both, amused. I guzzled down the rest of the beer and tossed the can into the trash. I had only been here for five minutes and it was already enough.

I pushed off the wall. “It’s been real. See you at practice.” I snatched up a six-pack lying on the ground and sauntered off toward the community garden. There was an uncomfortable looking wooden bench facing an open green area on the other side of the garden, giving way to a view of stars that managed to penetrate the light of the city. It was dark and a hell of a lot quieter. I set the six-pack down on the bench next to me, cracking one up and guzzling half.

What the hell was I doing here? I didn’t know anyone, and while there were a couple of guys my age on the team, they were finishing up their degrees. Here I was just beginning. I hadn’t even picked a major yet. I figured I should follow in my brother’s footsteps and study business, so I could help contribute more to our surf company, but it sounded so damn boring. I toyed with the idea of majoring in something Tessa would have done—keep her legacy alive—but I couldn’t see myself in Earth and Planetary Science classes. I contemplated my options as I downed two more beers, not even feeling a slight buzz yet. I needed harder shit.

“Hey.” A blonde girl wearing a short skirt, tall boots, and a drool-worthy, skin tight half-shirt stood next to the bench. “I come bearing gifts.”

She revealed a bottle of rum that was hidden behind her back. She waved it in front of me, batting her eyelashes and adorning a mischievous smile.

“I can see trouble has arrived,” I flirted back. There was no way I was turning her or that rum down. I put the beer on the ground to give her room on the bench. She sat, unscrewed the cap on the rum bottle, and handed it to me after taking a swig.

“Thanks.” I winked and drank down my fair share.

“Hey, save some for me.” She giggled and bumped her shoulder against mine.

I handed it back to her, but instead of taking another sip, she licked the rim of the bottle slowly and then stuck her tongue into the opening before lifting it and taking some more of it into her mouth. If she was trying to turn me on, then she had succeeded.

“So I heard you’re on the soccer team.” She started a real conversation.

“You heard right.” I reached for the bottle, but she held tight.

“Let me,” she offered.

She lifted her leg up and over my lap, straddling me on the bench. She lifted my chin so our eyes met and carefully poured the rum down my throat. She took the bottle from my lips, ravaging my mouth with hers, feeding my insatiable hunger for intimacy. It didn’t matter if she was just a groupie. It had been far too long. I had a few meaningless flings over the summer, so what was one more?

I dug my fingers into the back of her hair and held her tight as the arousal rose between us. At least the night wouldn’t be a total waste.