Okay, concentrate on the ball, ignore everything else around you, there's no one here but you, the ball and the net. I can do this, just like at practice. I take a deep breath and right when I'm about to go I can hear the crowd roaring, "Zoey! Zoey! Zoey!" and I think about how many people are counting on me and then as I run to kick the ball it goes above the net.
I walk back to my team, my head down in disappointment and guilt. How could I have missed that shot?
"It's okay Zo, we'll win it next time." Says Ria, one of my team mates.
I get home and find that nobody's home, surprise surprise. I live in a small flat in Chelsea, London. I live with my step-mom who is out being a prostitute, she's been doing that ever since my dad died and I think even when they were together.
I spent the rest of my weekend sitting around the house and doing some homework….okay trying to do some homework. This is what my normal life is like: soccer, school, home- watching TV, or hanging out with friends which I do a lot considering that no one's usually home. This is what my life's always been like since my father died, he was a great man and had a job as a spy for MI6. He was murdered and I was so mad that I cut off all ties with MI6 and anyone who worked for them. Back then I thought I would never see them again and they wouldn't even think about talking to me after getting my father killed. But then again that was back then. This is my story. This is my life. The life of Zoey Spencer.
