Chapter 11
I have music blaring out of my phone and into my headphones as I am bent over tying up my cleats. My nerves aren't as bad. I stand up and reach for the rest of my equipment. I pull off my t-shirt to put on my rib pads and shoulders pads before throwing my jersey on over top. Marley, who is sitting next to me, nudges my arm. I look at her and take out a headphone.
"I'm so nervous right now. I think I'm going to throw up," she says with a look a pure fright.
"Don't be. It's going to be fun. It's just another game. Only this one has huge lights and a camera crew. Ain't no thang," I joke, trying to make her smile. It works a little but she is still nervous. Coach Beiste walks in.
"Okay ladies! Buckets on! Let's get out there and get warmed up!"
I throw on my helmet and put my mouth guard in. I grab my stick and get ready to head out. The announcer, JBI, is getting the crowd amped up. We're about to run out on the field when JBI announces "And here are your McKinley Titans!" The crowd erupts into a crazy frenzy and we take off onto the field. After warm ups, both teams are huddled around their benches. We're listening to Coach Beiste give her pep talk. As she talks, I scan the crowd. There are camera people all over the sidelines, but next to them are the cheerleaders. I find Santana and we lock eyes. I give her a quick wave and she waves back with a pomp pom and behind her I see Tatum, she returns the wave as well.
"Uh oh," I mumble.
"Jamie, you have something to add?" asked Coach. I'm brought back to the circle and shake my head. I take one more look into the crowd to see if I can track down the scouts. The thing about scouts is they don't look like scouts, which is probably for the best.
Coach Beiste puts her hand in the middle and we follow "1-2-3."
"MCKINLEY!" we all shout.
I put my mouth guard back in and slide my helmet back down. We take our spots on the field and the game begins. It's a pretty even match, the action is moving easily up and down the field. Marley has the ball and makes a quick pass up to me. I burst up the side of the field with Marley right behind me. I fake a shot and pass to Marley, who snaps a shot pass the goalie. We score and the crowd goes wild! The team catches up to us and we celebrate together. There is ten minutes left in the first half. Carmel is in possession. I catch up and try to knock the ball, but its too late she's already taken the shot. Sugar makes a crazy save, but the rebound is picked up and they score. The score is 1-1. Seven minutes left in the first. Minutes go by, the game is close and tensions are rising. More and more fouls are being called with occasional penalties. Finally, the horn sounds to end the first half and the score is 6-5 McKinley.
As we head off to the locker room, a girl from Carmel shouts to Marley, "you better watch yourself string bean!" Marley looks at me, but I'm too busy trying to get the girls jersey number, Seventeen. "What did I do to her?" she asks.
"Who knows, you probably bumped into her," I say. Before we duck into our room, Santana catches my eye. She smiles at me and sticks her tongue out. I start laughing and watch her head out for their half time routine.
Back out on the field for the second half, the draw starts the game. Roberta wins it for us and Marley is running up the field. Our other forward attacker is right with her; I'm running behind Mar and that's when I see the other girl. Number seventeen is running straight at Marley. Marley makes a quick pass to our attacker and Seventeen lifts her sticks and brings it crashing down onto Marley's forearm. I could hear the crack from my position. Seventeen crosschecks Marley to the ground and the sound that came from Marley is a mix between a horrible cry and a scream. The crowd is silent. Seventeen is standing over her, smirking. Before I know what's happening, my gloves and helmet are off and I have my fingers wrapped around the cage of Seventeen's helmet. I wrench her helmet off her head as her fist collides with my right eye. I tackle her to the ground, my knee lands in her ribs and she's calling me every name in the book. Before either of us can make another move, both Umpire's are pulling us off each other. Red cards are being thrown everywhere. The crowd is going in insane. I look around and see Marley still on the ground, holding her arm. I want to go to her but the Umpire is still holding me.
"You're both out of here!" snaps one of the umpires. I stop trying to pull away and look at him.
"What?" I exclaim. "You can't do that! She attacked her!" The Umpire raises his hand and Coach Beiste is by my side.
"She was only protecting her team, how can they get the same call?" asks my coach. The umpire looks at her and points his finger "back to your bench coach before you're out as well," he says.
"What? This crazy!" Beiste states. She pulls me back to bench and tells me to sit while everything calms down. There's only a faint buzz from the crowd as a medical team is tending to Marley. She's taken off the field on a stretcher. The umpire calls both coaches to the middle of the field. I can see Coach Beiste arguing with the umpire. All I can think is this can't be happening. This is my one chance and I let my anger blow it. I'm hoping the umpire changes his mind to a penalty but by the way coach is arguing, it's not looking good. Roberta comes over with my gloves and helmet.
"I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, but if I was Marley, I would be damn proud that I had a teammate like you who wasn't afraid to stand up for me," she says.
"Thanks Roberta," I reply. But I can't take my eyes off the middle of the field. They disperse from the middle and Coach Beiste is heading back. Time is standing still it seems and I can feel the blood running down from my eye brow.
"I have good news and bad news," Coach Beiste starts, "Our goal counts, but uh, we're loosing two players for the rest of the game. Marley's being taken to the hospital and Jamie," she hesitates, "you've been suspended."
Suspended. The word just echoes in my head. Suspended? I can't be suspended, if I'm suspended from the game, I'm suspended from school. Everything is spinning.
"You have to leave the bench Punkin. I'm sorry, Jamie. I know you were just standing up for your teammate but they have the final call. We will appeal it right after the game," says the coach as she leads me in the direction of the locker room.
I leave without saying anything. The shock I feel is incredible. The walk from the bench to the locker room only fuels me with rage. By the time I enter the locker room, I'm livid and my hands are shaking. I heave my helmet across the room. I'm pacing back and forth. There's still blood running down my face, I probably look crazy right now. I punch a locker.
"That make you feel better?" I hear from behind me. I turn around and see Santana.
"No, I can't believe this," I shout, "I just blew my shot a scholarship! I'm suspended." Santana looked at me, "it could be worse," she says, not understanding the seriousness of it all.
"Worse? I'm suspended! That means I'll be suspended from school! It'll go on my record and I'll never get into college," I explain, probably more harshly than needed.
"Shit. I didn't realize," she apologizes.
"I know, I'm sorry," I say quietly, taking my first long, deep breath since leaving the field. She crosses the room to take my face in her hands.
"You're bleeding, let me get a first aid kit," she breathes, as she sets off to find one. I sit on the bench and can hear the crowd reacting to the action just outside.
Santana returns sits in front of me on the bench.
"This will probably sting but its best to clean it and get the Carmel grunge out of you," she warns. I just nod my head. She applies the alcohol swab and she's right, it stings like a bitch. I just clench my jaw and don't say anything. Santana cleans up the cut and sticks some sticky sutures on it. Then she wraps an ice pack and hands it to me.
"You're face is starting to look like my eye," she informs me. I laugh a little and she smiles.
"Thanks," I look into her eyes.
"No problem," she whispers. We start to lean into each other but before anything can happen, one of my teammates walks in and Santana stands up.
"Jam, Coach wants you to dress and come watch the rest of the game. She says it will show good sportsmanship and hopefully change the call," relays the defenseman.
"Thanks, I'll be right out," I state, while looking down. She heads back out to the field.
Santana looks at me, "sorry, that was inappropriate."
"It was my bad, it won't happen again," I assure her.
"I better get back out there," she says, heading to the door.
"Yeah, me too." I say.
I head for the showers and moments later, I'm dressed and standing in the background as I watch my team take down our rival.