I stepped out of the West Texas heat and into the air-conditioned chill of the Ofsprey Field House, breathing in a lungful of air through my nose. Nothing could ever settle my nerves quite like the unique aromatic combination of fresh grass and stale sweat. The scent was far from pleasant, but in my brain the smell always conjured thoughts of suiting up and running out onto the soccer field with my team. And I couldn’t think of anything better.
No one manned the welcome desk, but the sound of twenty or so girls who hadn’t seen each other in a few months carried down the hall and pinpointed the location of my first team meeting.
Well, unofficially. NCAA rules were pretty strict about when the season officially started, and until then, Coach Taylor couldn’t be involved at all. But there was no way the Lady Pumas of Pearson University, defending conference champions, were going to wait around. I’d have to impress my captain and the rest of the team before practices even began.
I strode down the hall with my chin up. I belonged here. I had an athletic scholarship that paid for half my tuition. I’d earned this opportunity. And I’d keep telling myself all those things for the next four years if that was what it took to stay on the team and keep that scholarship money coming in.
The meeting room was filled with bright sunshine from the floor-to-ceiling windows making up the eastern wall. A huge wooden table dominated the space. It stretched into a thin oval so it could seat a couple dozen people. I nodded at a few girls who smiled at me and made my way to the back of the room where several empty chairs were bunched together. Excited chatter filled the room as everyone except me caught up with the friends they already knew. Coach Taylor had warned me that this would be a difficult transition as the only incoming freshman this year.
Normally at least a small handful of new players joined the soccer team each year, but several years ago the coach had red-shirted a bunch of girls when the incoming freshman class was a little too big. So the team only lost one senior last year. Leaving one opening. I earned this. I deserve to be here. I continued the internal chant on a loop as the room filled up.
“Hey there.”
I jerked my head up at the unexpected voice to find two smiling faces staring at me. “Uh, hi.”
“I’m guessing you’re our new goalie.” A brunette with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail reached her dark bronze arm out for a fist bump.
I tapped my knuckles to hers and mustered up what I hoped was a confident smile. “Yeah, I’m Luci.”
“Welcome to the team, Luci.” A girl with the curliest blond hair I’ve ever seen gave me a wave from the other side of the brunette and pointed at an empty chair. “I’m Samantha, though everyone calls me Sam, and this is Avery. We’re both fullbacks, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
I sat and nodded at the two defensive players, grateful that they seemed nice enough. A goalkeeper had the duty of seeing the full field and directing players where to find the gaps. This was especially crucial with the fullbacks since they were the last line of defense before me. I’d dealt with plenty of diva defensive players in the past, and the power struggle never ended well.
“All right, let’s get started.” A girl with shiny, perfectly styled brown hair stood at the front of the room, her perfectly toned legs appearing to get longer as she stood. I recognized her from last year’s team picture on the university website. Vanessa Hartley, All-Conference Striker, top scorer on the team, and this year’s captain. She gave the room a bright, sinless smile that could easily have belonged to a Miss America contestant.
“First things first,” she said, staring down at her hot-pink clipboard. “We have one new player this year. Luci Ryder. Luci, why don’t you introduce yourself.”
I let out a string of curse words in my head that would embarrass a sailor. Being the center of attention was right up there with waterboarding in my book. I was much more comfortable sitting behind my computer or doodling with a notebook in front of my face. Hell, I played the position on the soccer team that required the least interaction with other players.
I stood anyway and smiled at the two dozen faces staring up at me. “Hi, I’m Luci. I’m a goalie.” I fisted my hands and smiled at the group of girls who were now my teammates, struggling to find something—anything—else to say. “I’m from Columbus, Ohio, and I played for Ohio Heat last season.”
A few girls gave approving murmurs, and I flashed back to my seat.
“Coach Taylor said Luci is the best goalie he saw during his recruiting trips, and we’re lucky to have her with us. Welcome, Luci.”
The girls let out a smattering of applause, and Avery reached out for another fist bump before everyone turned their attention back to Vanessa. I let out a silent sigh of relief and let my body relax a bit.
Vanessa handed a stack of papers to the girl next to her, and everyone passed them around. “I’m giving you all a copy of the school rules and regulations for players. Same stuff as every year. No underage drinking, honor any assigned curfew, don’t cheat on tests. You know the drill.”
I flipped through the packet of papers. It was the same rule packet I’d signed when I accepted my scholarship to Pearson.
“I’ve also included the pre-season practice schedule. Official practices won’t start until the seventeenth, per NCAA rules, but captain-led practice begins tomorrow morning.”
The stack of papers reached me, and I took one off the top before handing it over to Avery. As a D2 school, we had plenty of rules and regulations about the quantity and durations of our official practices and conditioning sessions. With conditioning every morning and a skills practice every afternoon, Vanessa was going to max out every second we had before the regulation season started.
“As your captain, I’m supposed to make some flowery speech at the beginning of the season about how great it’s going to be and how we’re going to work hard and have a ton of fun while we do our best.”
Vanessa set her clipboard down and tapped her french-tip manicure against the plastic surface. “But our best isn’t going to be good enough. Last year we got the bid to the championship playoffs and then blew it like a bunch of pansies in the first round of play. I don’t plan to waste my senior year with a repeat performance.”
Several girls nodded their heads in agreement, but I caught a few worried glances as well. My stomach turned over, and I regretted not grabbing some breakfast before the meeting.
“This year we’re going to work harder than ever, earn a spot in the playoffs, and then kick ass. To make that happen, we all need to make sacrifices. We’re going to live, breath, and dine on soccer for the next four months. No extras. No distractions. We can’t afford to lose focus.”
Next to me, Avery whispered “Oh shit” under her breath so quietly I was sure only Sam and I heard it.
“One of our biggest distractions last year was the men’s soccer team. If you’ll recall, they had a lackluster season and, as a surprise to no one, missed out on a bid to the championship playoffs. Based on their roster, I don’t have any reason to think this year will be any different.” She paused and looked around the room, her focused eyes analyzing every person there. “That’s why I’m instituting a new rule this year. No dating or partying with any member of the men’s soccer team.”
The room erupted with the sounds of pissed-off girls who knew how to inflict damage with a cleat.
Sam stood up and flipped her blond curls over her shoulder. “You can’t be serious, V.”
Vanessa picked up her clipboard and hugged it to her chest, her eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’m dead serious. I’ll see you all for our first conditioning session tomorrow at nine a.m. sharp. Bring extra water.”
She didn’t wait to see if anyone else had questions or objections before spinning on her heels and marching out of the conference room. A handful of girls followed her out, but most sat in their seats, sour expressions on their faces.
“Well, there go our plans for the night.” Avery thumped a canvas bag onto the table and crammed her schedule inside.
“Yeah, I’ll call Scooter and let him know.” Sam leaned back in her chair and let her arms hang over the sides like gravity was too much for her. “I guess we should’ve known this was coming.”
I pushed myself to speak up. If I was going to fit in on the team, I needed to play catch up. As much as I hated getting involved in any kind of drama, I needed to get the backstory on Vanessa’s announcement. “What do you mean? How could you have known?”
Sam sat up, instantly revived at the prospect of some good gossip. “Oh girl, you have no idea what kind of shit went down over summer break.”
“Vanessa used to date Ryan VanKamp, a forward on the guys’ team,” Avery said, leaning in as if she was about to dish out national secrets. “The two of them had been together for years, and everyone, including Vanessa, assumed an engagement was right around the corner. She’d been sending Snaps to the team all summer of different rings she’d been looking at.”
“Until last month.” Sam picked up the conversation, the two of them tag-teaming the dirt. “Ryan dumped her out of the blue and dashed her hopes of becoming the next Mrs. VanKamp.”
“So she’s forbidding anyone else from dating a guy on the team? Seems a little extreme.” I understood better than most the sting of a guy who you thought was amazing but ended up being jerk central. Still this was a bit much.
Avery let out a harsh laugh. “You have no idea. Vanessa may seem like a bowl of punch with her fake-ass smile and bright-pink clipboard, but she would cut a bitch if it got her what she wanted. If she can’t have her man, no one can.”
I didn’t really care about the new rule, but the rest of the team seemed ticked. “She can’t really enforce that, can she?”
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Sam said with a sigh. “It’s not like she could kick you off the team herself, but that girl has never met a line she wouldn’t cross. If she wants you gone, she’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. I wouldn’t want to be in her line of fire if she caught wind of someone going behind her back to hang with the guys.”
“I guess that sucks then.” I shrugged, trying to muster up some disappointment to match Sam and Avery, but I really couldn’t care less.
I had plans, big plans, for the next four years, and they didn’t include enough time for guys. My soccer scholarship would cover half my tuition, and I’d managed to cobble together academic scholarships, grants, and a student loan with ridiculous interest rates to cover the other half. My summer job covered my books, and my parents were helping with room and board, but they’d made it clear they couldn’t afford any more than that. I didn’t have a penny to spare. To keep everything financially running, I needed to focus on soccer and my grades.
Dating was off the table, and even if it wasn’t, dating a soccer player was never going to happen again. I’d learned that painful lesson the hard way, and it wasn’t one I needed repeated.