Enjoy!
Chapter Eleven: A Long Road Part 1
Annabeth had no time to dwell on the recent turn of events. The weekend arrived almost immediately after the Sindletown game, and with it the roast chicken dinner that she'd been forced by her mother to produce.
Annabeth started her preparation at three in the afternoon, predicting that her actual cooking time would take longer than it should. She'd decided to go with the red wine vinaigrette and bacon recipe, finding it simpler and easier than the one with the butter and herbs.
Her father had gone to the supermarket that morning to get all the ingredients that she needed. She'd asked for his help since she'd not had time to go grocery shopping during the week. All the items were neatly lined up on the counter, the large pink chicken the most prominent of them all.
She went for the chicken first, washing it down under the tap and placing it onto a baking tray.
"Breast side up," she murmured to herself, remembering how Percy had done it.
She grated a generous amount of salt and black pepper onto the top of the chicken carcass, then added olive oil and a small slug of red wine vinaigrette. She used her hands to spread the seasoning over the chicken's skin, then grabbed the tray and loaded it into the oven. She turned back to the kitchen countertop, staring at the row of ingredients with her hands on her hips.
"What next, what next…." She muttered to herself. "Ah. Potatoes."
It took quite some time to wash and peel all the potatoes. Her father walked in to get a glass of water as she was struggling with them, giving her a glance as she fiddled and grasped with the slippery tubers.
"Remember not to cook any rice this time," he reminded her.
Annabeth nodded, her expression fixed in a scowl as she held a potato down to be peeled.
"Oh, you beauty," her father murmured as he stared at the chicken through the oven's glass door. "That's the star of today's show, eh?" He asked, tapping the oven door with a finger.
"Yeah." Annabeth replied without turning around. "Is the timer set? I'm supposed to take it out after forty-five minutes."
"Oh it's set all right," Frederick affirmed, nodding at the ticking dial on the oven door. "But the oven's not on. Is it supposed to be?"
Annabeth blinked, her vision swimming with potato peels, then spun around to face him. "What?"
"The oven's not running," Frederick opened the oven door, sticking his hand inside. "See? There's no heat. It's just the timer."
"What on earth?" Annabeth dashed over, frowning at the oven's controls. "Why didn't it turn on? I already turned the temperature up." She adjusted the temperature dial, thinking it would kick-start the machine, but nothing happened.
"You didn't select the function," Frederick pointed to the third dial on the oven, one that showed a series of symbols.
Annabeth gave a gasp of exasperation.
"What function? An oven is an oven, isn't it?"
"Ovens nowadays have different settings." Frederick explained. "Bottom heating, top heating, broiling, there's even a setting that turns the lights on."
"That's dumb," Annabeth shook her head. "Why not have an oven that turns on immediately?"
"If you'd already selected the setting that you wanted, then it would have turned on once you set the timer, yes." Frederick agreed. "But it looks like your mother turned all the knobs back to zero the last time she was done using it."
"She did that on purpose," Annabeth snarled. "To sabotage me."
"No, I think that just her being her." Frederick shook her head amusedly. "She always returns everything to zero once she's done with them. That's just how she works. It helps to prevent accidental incinerations in the event that you're cooking something out of the norm."
"Why doesn't she return herself to zero?" Annabeth muttered in annoyance. "That'd be nice."
"Ha, that'll be the day." Frederick smiled. "This house would come apart at the seams."
"That wouldn't happen," Annabeth scoffed.
"Oh, I think it would." Frederick disagreed. "Now, since you're roasting a chicken I assume you want dual heating with the fan." He turned the knob to the correct setting and the oven made a humming sound as it came to life.
"Finally." Annabeth glared at the oven. "Thanks Dad."
"You're most welcome. I will be expecting payment, of course, in the form of carved roast chicken slices." Frederick rubbed his stomach as he walked out of the kitchen.
The chicken finally starting to cook, Annabeth returned to the potatoes. When she had finished washing and peeling all of them, she filled a large pot with water and placed it on the stove to boil. She cut the potatoes into long wedges and loaded them into the pot, then jumped back in alarm as the potatoes' added volume caused water to overflow from the pot, spilling over the rim and sizzling harshly as they came into contact with the fire below.
"What the—" Annabeth stared in incomprehension at the situation for a couple seconds, then grabbed a bowl and used it to scoop water out of the pot.
"Stop destroying my stove," Drawn by the loud sizzling sounds, Annabeth's mother had appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Stop destroying my life," Annabeth snapped.
"Hmph," her mother turned her nose up. "One day you'll thank me."
"Yeah, when you're finally dead," Annabeth growled.
Her mother sidled away, presumably to go bug more family members. Annabeth finished bailing out the pot of soup and went back to the kitchen counter. Two cobs of corn were cut into sections with great difficulty and added to the pot, followed by several carrots after a long period of washing, peeling and cutting. Their combined volume caused the pot to overflow again and this time Annabeth yelped as little droplets of hot water jumped out of the pot like grasshoppers, causing stinging pain as they came into contact with her skin. She hurriedly shut the fire off, then tried to scoop water out using the same bowl before realising just in time that the contact from the hot water would probably scald her hand beyond repair. She cast about the kitchen and finally found a big ladle that she used to scoop excess water out of the pot. It was a painstakingly slow process and she was frustrated and sweating by the time she was done.
"Oh, I forgot!" She spotted the pack of chicken bones that her father had gotten her and added them into the soup, being careful to lower them in carefully to avoid creating any splashes. When that was done she tilted her head, thinking, then crossed to her mother's spice rack and added salt and pepper into the pot.
"Looking good," her father remarked as he came into the kitchen again for another glass of water. He bent down to stare at the chicken through the glass oven door. "Looking good." He nodded in satisfaction.
Annabeth peeled the celery next, feeling a twitch of irritation at how much sand there was sticking to the stalks. She washed them thoroughly and cut them into finger lengths before adding them into the soup. She did the same with the tomatoes and onions, then frowned at the last item on the kitchen counter, a bulb of garlic.
"What's this for?" She double-checked her ingredient list, thinking she might have taken it out by mistake, but garlic was clearly written right at the top of the list.
"Where…" Her gaze swept across the kitchen, from the sink to the pot to the chicken in the oven that was just beginning to lose its pink hue.
"Oh, shit." Acting on impulse, she pulled the oven door open, recoiled at the wave of heat that hit her in the face, and quickly shut it again. She groaned in frustration.
After some thought, she concluded that the best way forward was to add the garlic to the chicken anyway and hope it turned out well. She hastily chopped the cloves into pieces, removed the chicken from the oven briefly to sprinkle the garlic onto the chicken, then slid it back in.
"Okay, great." She huffed in relief, feeling like she'd just averted a crisis. "Now what? Rice." She crossed to the rice bin, then shook her head and backed away as her father's reminder came to mind.
She realised that all she had to do now was wait until the time came to layer the bacon over the chicken. She busied herself with removing the bacon from the packaging to allow it to warm up further, then loaded the plates and utensils that she'd used into the dishwasher. She got herself a glass of water, gulping it down as she ran through the list of instructions in her notebook.
The timer buzzed and she looked up from her notes, tightened her jaw.
"Right." She carefully slid the chicken tray out from the oven. It looked fully cooked already, golden brown and steaming, despite what Percy had said about it being not quite done at this point. She layered the bacon onto the chicken's top and returned it to the oven to complete the cooking.
With the chicken finally settled, she left the soup to simmer and went up to her room to shower and change for the dinner. Her clothes had become damp with perspiration from her exertions in the kitchen and the heat from the stove, making her feel like she'd just played one half of a football match. She allowed herself to indulge a little, staying in the shower longer than she usually did to enjoy the warm water and scented shower gel that she liked. She came back down dressed in a simple dress that she used for such casual occasions, feeling renewed. The smell of the chicken and the soup was filling the house at this point, putting everybody in a good mood.
Aunt Natalie and her cousin Magnus had arrived while she'd been upstairs and were exchanging pleasantries with the rest of her family as her parents laid the table with plates, forks and spoons. Annabeth smiled and said hello to the two of them, exchanging hugs. Magnus went into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while the rest of the family seated themselves at the table.
"I heard you made roast chicken today," Aunt Natalie gave her a warm smile. "That's wonderful."
"Chicken soup, too." Frederick added. "I daresay we'll all have trouble getting up from this table later on."
"It does look impressive," her mother added, and Annabeth realised she must have went into the kitchen to have a look while she'd been in the shower.
"Annabeth?" Her cousin called from the kitchen a few moments later. "You left the chicken in the oven for too long. Its turning black."
Annabeth shot out of her chair in alarm, springing away from the table like a gazelle. Her younger bothers Bobby and Matthew jumped up with her, excitable as always.
"The house is going to burn down!" Bobby exclaimed.
"It's not that serious, surely." Aunt Natalie laughed at their childish enthusiasm.
"We'll handle it! Activate emergency protocols!" Matthew yelled at full volume, making everybody wince. The two little boys ran into the living room.
"Come back here!" Their mother demanded, but went unheard amidst the sudden commotion.
Already an acrid scent was spreading through the house, making Annabeth's nose twitch and burn.
"No!" She ran into the kitchen at full speed in time to see Magnus switch the oven off and pull the door open. The acrid smell became ten times stronger, the smell of defeat, the smell of Annabeth's doom.
"No, no, no." Annabeth's shoulders slumped. She could only stare as Magnus carefully brought the tray out with oven mitts, setting it gently down onto the countertop.
The bacon covering the chicken's breast had shrunk and shrivelled into black strips, stuck to the chicken skin like destroyed war medals. The chopped garlic that she'd sprinkled onto the chicken had turned black too, giving the chicken's surface the appearance of a war-torn landscape.
"A burnt offering unto heaven." Her father chuckled as he came into the kitchen. He bent to peer at the steaming dish more closely. "That doesn't look so bad."
"It's ruined," Annabeth said, close to tears.
"We're here!" Bobby and Matthew ran into the kitchen, plastic toy fire axes stuck into their waistbands like swords. They lugged a small red fire extinguisher between them, which they now set on the floor one metre away from the kitchen countertop.
"Seriously?" Magnus laughed.
"That's from my study," Frederick said, surprised. "How did you get it here so quickly?"
"Target acquired!" Matthew pointed to the chicken.
"Deploy!" Bobby ordered.
The twins knelt on either side of the little extinguisher. Bobby pointed the nozzle at the chicken. Matthew closed his hands around the extinguisher's handle.
"Whoa, hey." Magnus backed away from the twins, holding his oven-mitted hands up. "There's no need for that."
"Prepare to fire!" Bobby yelled heroically. "Take aim!"
"I am locked on target!" Matthew declared.
"Do not open fire." Annabeth stepped in front of the nozzle to protect her devastated chicken.
"Get out of the way, sis!" Bobby urged. "We must destroy the burning chicken or it will doom us all! It's our only chance!"
"No. This chicken will be saved." Annabeth realised how stupid she sounded. "And will be served. And be eaten." She corrected.
"Oh, good heavens." Their mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking appalled by the sight of her twins taking aim at her eldest daughter.
"We've no choice!" Bobby insisted. "I'm sorry sis! We'll bury you with honour."
"What?" Annabeth looked horrified. "No you won't! Let go of—"
"Fire at will!" Matthew wailed.
"I don't think that's a good idea." Magnus crossed to the twins in two strides and reached down, pulling the extinguisher safely into his grasp. "You're more valuable than I am. Save yourselves and evacuate everyone. I'll handle the chicken. You can bury me with honour."
The twins' eyes widened in shock.
"Your sacrifice will not be forgotten," Bobby promised.
"I know." Magnus looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Now go, save our family. Roll out!"
The twins jumped to their feet, saluting, then spun around and each grabbed one of their mother's arms, pulling her with them as they ran out of the kitchen.
"Everybody ruuuuun!" Matthew yelled, his high-pitched voice filling the kitchen like bad opera music.
"I was this close to being turned into an extinguisher foam snowman." Annabeth told Magnus.
"That wouldn't have happened," Magnus told her with a laugh. "They didn't pull the pin out from the handle."
"See?" Amidst the commotion, Frederick had used a fork and knife to pry the burnt bacon strips away, revealing golden-brown chicken skin beneath. "It look perfect!"
"I-it does?" Annabeth stammered, feeling relieved.
"Yes!" Frederick gave his fork a long lick. "Oh that tastes delicious."
"Crisis averted," Magnus declared. "Let's eat!"
The weeks that followed were the worst Annabeth had ever experienced thus far in her time as coach. With both Percy and Jason out, Goode lost both home and away, conceding seven goals across two games and scoring only two. All the statistics had gone sour. Goode held less than thirty percent possession in each game, averaging only four shots per ninety minutes, half of them on target. The players didn't know how to play without a focal point to the attack, and Annabeth could not teach them how to do so either. Chris and Ron had nobody to aim their crosses at. Frank's through-balls were cut out or intercepted by enemy defences because Malcolm was ineffective as a lone striker, having neither the speed to get past opposing centre-backs nor the physicality to overpower them. The one thing he did have was an eye for space, an ability to open up opportunities for others around him. This had yielded one goal for Nico and another for Ron, but were the only times they had managed to score amidst a torrent of goals at the other end. Conceding so many goals had shaken the confidence of Goode's defence, even though they were actually well-organised and difficult to break down. They conceded so much simply because their attacks failed to generate anything, allowing their opponents to keep the pressure on until they capitulated.
Even worse, Percy's confidence appeared to have been affected by his latest suspension. His once-imposing form dipped in training, getting dispossessed and outmuscled by others and missing shots during drills. The other players had noticed, but were baffled as to why he was seemingly unable to shrug off such a small setback. None of them were new to suspensions, after all, and it wasn't like he was going to miss the rest of the season. Yet it seemed to weigh him down like there were kettlebells strapped to his boots.
Annabeth was equally mystified. She couldn't think of any reason, physically or mentally, that might be causing such a drop in form. Percy, she knew, had high self esteem. Setbacks and challenges usually had an opposite effect on him, boosting his motivation to bounce back stronger. She had brought it up, after seeing him labour on for about a week. He hadn't seemed to know what the problem was, either.
"Are you in any kind of pain? Injury?" She'd asked.
"A couple of aches here and there," he replied. "They've been there for a long time. Nothing new."
"How about your stamina?" Annabeth pressed him further. "Do you feel tired? Out of breath?"
"No," he answered.
Nor was there any reason for him to feel so. He'd only played half the game the week before, after all, and hadn't played at all the following weekend.
"I haven't been sleeping that well recently," Percy shrugged. "Maybe that's it."
"Is it schoolwork?" Annabeth asked. "Our mid-years are coming up."
"I guess," Percy shrugged. "I'm not really the studying type. It's a struggle for me just to pass."
How anybody could struggle to pass such an easy syllabus was a mystery to Annabeth. She curbed the urge to blurt the thought out.
"Have you been getting any extra tutoring?" She asked instead.
"A little," Percy gave her a wry smile. "The teachers still don't make any sense the second and third time around, though."
Annabeth knew what he meant. The running joke in Goode High was that the smartest thing in the faculty's staff office at any point in time was the electronic lock on the doors.
"How about I come over one of these days?" She suggested. "I can try explaining some of the stuff."
Percy tilted his head. "Sounds like it might work. When's a good time?"
"Tomorrow afternoon?" Annabeth offered. "I'm usually free on weekdays."
"Free on weekdays?" Percy stared at her. "Don't you have homework?"
"Of course," Annabeth replied, baffled. "But that only takes one or two hours."
"One or two?" Percy gaped at her. "How do you—" He shook his head. "Never mind. I'll pick you up tomorrow then."
Annabeth nodded in agreement. Percy returned his attention to the ball at his feet, working it in and around the line of cones before tapping it into the little net at the end of the short course. Annabeth eyed him from behind. It was difficult to tear her attention from him, as usual, but this time Annabeth observed how tense his body was. His usually fluid movement was rigid and jerky. Percy moved on to shooting from outside the box and Annabeth saw how cramped his posture was as he took a quick run-up, the complete opposite of his normally lithe and breathtaking stride.
The shot was accurate but lacked enough power, allowing David to get a diving hand to it and push it away from the bottom corner before it could roll in. Annabeth's brow furrowed. She'd never seen David able to save any of Percy's shots before.
Percy erratic performance continued during the next day's training. Annabeth was still at a loss to explain it, and didn't know how to remedy it either. It wasn't like she could coach Percy to shoot better or run faster. He was already the most complete footballer Annabeth had ever seen. The best way Annabeth could describe what she was seeing was that Percy had lost some of his shine, merely competent now instead of the all-conquering aura she'd seen in him up until now.
"How are you feeling?" She asked him again after the end of the session as they walked toward the parking lots.
"All right," Percy shrugged his muscled shoulders, drawing Annabeth's attention unmercifully. "Same as yesterday, I guess."
They passed by Piper and Jason, who waved as they were getting into Piper's red Audi. Percy and Annabeth waved back.
"We're headed to Starbucks for tea," Piper called to them. "Want to come along?"
"No thanks," Annabeth shook her head. "We're headed back to Percy's for a study session."
Piper raised an eyebrow, giving Annabeth a knowing grin. Annabeth flashed her a warning glare.
"All right, see ya." Piper ducked into the driver's seat, closing the door, and a moment later the Audi's powerful engine revved as it came to life.
"Like I can afford Starbucks," Percy gave his head a shake, smiling slightly as they watched the Audi peel out of the car park.
"Do you not get Starbucks at all?" Annabeth asked, surprised. "No offence, but you don't look like a guy who's short of cash."
"That's because all the cash went into this," Percy slapped the roof of his own car. "And that," he pointed at the fuel flap. "And that," he kicked the front tire.
"And that," Annabeth added, pointing to the chef's apron and hair net neatly folded on the back seat.
"Exactly." Percy nodded as he ducked into the driver's seat. "I spend money on the things that matter."
"Piper spends money on everything," Annabeth said. "It's ridiculous."
"I suppose I'd be the same if I had that much money," Percy shrugged. "Bigger car, better tires."
"A bigger saucepan?" Annabeth joked.
"Yes, actually," Percy said. "With my name stamped onto the handle."
"You've been watching too many cooking commercials," Annabeth told him.
"No, think about it. If I really became a famous chef, people would actually buy them. I just have to market them at a good price. It's all about branding."
Percy's car came to life with a soft purr. Both of them strapped in. Percy engaged the clutch and they peeled out of the parking lot.
"I'm curious," Annabeth said. "Why'd you choose a manual car?"
"Cheaper," was Percy's response. "Also this is a second-hand car. I didn't have much choice. When I start working, I can sell this one off and buy a new car."
"What kind of car would you get?" Annabeth asked.
"A Honda, maybe," Percy replied. "Or Mazda. I'd go for one of the hybrid models so I can save money on fuel."
"I see," Annabeth, who knew next to nothing about cars, nodded in feigned understanding. "That all sounds very modest. You don't have a dream car? Something you'd go for if you got signed by a big club?"
"I do, actually." Even after all the time they'd spent together, Annabeth's willingness to engage Percy in conversation surprised him. He'd never imagined that she was one to talk about normal things like cars and commercials. He'd always thought that she was above such things and that he would quickly run out of topics that interested her. At this point, his strategy was to keep each conversation going for as long it could and let the good times roll.
"Have you seen a Maserati Spyder before?" He asked her.
"No," Annabeth said, and there was a prolonged pause in the conversation before she pulled out her phone and added, "I'll google it."
"I saw it when I passed by a dealership once, back when I was ten." He explained. "Since then it's been the one I've always wanted."
"Something to work towards, then." Annabeth shook the phone in her hand because the screen was lagging.
"Yeah," Percy let out a sigh. "I guess it would be, if I got signed by a club."
Annabeth's noted the difference in his measured tone compared to the enthusiastic way he'd spoken about it a couple of weeks ago. It added to the puzzlement as to why Percy had lost so much confidence.
The rest of the short ride to Percy's apartment was uneventful. The search results finally loaded as they pulled up to the parking lot and Annabeth tapped onto the images tab to get a good look at the car Percy had mentioned.
"I've never seen this one before," she remarked as she finally found out what a Maserati looked like.
"That's because it's rare," Percy explained. "Maserati doesn't mass-produce this particular model."
"And that's why you like it," Annabeth guessed.
"That's one of the reasons," Percy shrugged, and Annabeth had to turn away so that he wouldn't catch her staring.
Once they got down to the studying, Annabeth quickly realised what Percy's problem was.
The main issue was that he didn't understand any of the topics. He had bits of information in his head that he wasn't able to connect because he hadn't grasped the overall concept. The more lessons he attended, the more information there was swirling around that only reinforced his incomprehension and made him more confused.
The thing was, this seemed to be the case for almost every chapter or topic in all of his subjects. Annabeth successfully managed to explain a few chapters of biology, but realised that there was no way she could possibly go through the whole subject in one afternoon, let alone the other four.
They returned to the books after a short break and Annabeth turned the textbook to the next chapter, which just happened to be human reproduction.
"Oh," was Percy's only comment.
"You don't need help for this one, do you?" Annabeth asked him.
"Uh, actually I do."
"What?" For the first time that afternoon Annabeth began to doubt whether she could successfully make him understand.
Percy turned to the next page which showed an obscenely-sized full-page cross-section of the female anatomy.
"The eggs are supposed to be here, right?" He pointed to the diagram. "But when you're pregnant the baby starts growing here instead. So how does the egg go from here to here?"
"It moves," was Annabeth's best guess. "The syllabus doesn't cover how it moves, though. That won't be tested." She knew the answer wasn't enough. She'd found out that Percy needed to understand the entire thing in order to grasp a concept. He wouldn't be able to blindly memorise the process, even if it was something as simple as 'it moves'.
"But I don't get it. This thing technically isn't a living creature."
"Not yet," Annabeth agreed.
"So how can it move? It just…rolls over?"
"I have no idea," Annabeth raised her hands. "I guess it rolls, if it helps you to understand, but don't write that on the test paper."
"Alright," Percy shrugged again and Annabeth swallowed dryly as she summoned all her willpower to keep her eyes fixed on the textbook. "And this happens during sex, right?"
"What?" Annabeth's brow furrowed. "No."
"I thought that's how you get pregnant. When the egg meets with the—"
"Yes," Annabeth cut him off through gritted teeth before he could say the dreaded word. "But sex doesn't trigger the egg to roll—move out. It follows a fixed schedule. Once a month."
"There's a schedule?" Percy glanced down at her and Annabeth's eyes widened. "How? Can you program it—"
"No," Annabeth snapped. "It can't be programmed."
"How do you decide what day it starts, then?"
"We don't. It decides by itself."
"By itself?"
"Yes," Annabeth regained her composure. "That's why we have monthly periods. It's also part of the cycle. Different girls start and end on different days."
"That doesn't make any sense," Percy rubbed his eyes, a sign that he was losing focus. "Wouldn't it be easier if all girls were synchronised?"
"You want all the girls in the world to start their period at the same time?" That had to be the dumbest thing Annabeth had ever heard from a boy.
"Is that a bad thing?" Percy asked stupidly.
"Haven't you ever encountered a girl on her period before?" Annabeth asked, incredulous.
"No," Percy replied. "Are you on your period?"
"No," Annabeth sighed. "I'm not."
"So why is a period a bad thing?" Percy asked.
"A period sometimes comes with cramps and lethargy, sometimes even symptoms like diarrhoea. This often makes girls irritable. You don't want all girls to be having their period at the same time. It would be like a prison riot."
"But if the egg doesn't come out during sex, how do you get pregnant?"
"I thought I already explained that—" Annabeth began.
"I understand the once-a-month part," Percy clarified. "But doesn't that mean that it's really difficult to get pregnant because it can only happen one day of the month? People seem to get pregnant pretty easily."
"It's more like a window of several days, not just one day," she explained. "It really does vary from person to person. Some couples just keep going until they hit it."
"I see." Percy said after a pause.
"Anything else you need to clarify?" She asked.
"Um….." Percy looked like his thoughts were moving through syrup. "This cycle is thirty days, right?"
"Yes. Every month."
"What if the month has thirty-one days, then? Or twenty-nine?"
"The cycle still resets about every thirty days. It doesn't follow the months strictly. People use the term 'every month' because it's easier to understand that way."
Percy nodded in understanding. "And the period is the end of the cycle. Where the blood comes out."
"Yes. That's the egg and lining being discharged."
"That sounds like a waste," Percy said. "Why can't the egg just go back?"
"I have no idea." It was Annabeth's turn to shrug.
"What? But you're a girl." Percy seemed to be getting more and more confused.
"I didn't make myself this way. Ask God, he made girls."
"But it's something that happens to you," Percy just couldn't get it. "How can you not understand it?"
"I don't know," Annabeth fired back. "Why do your balls hurt so much when they get kicked? You're a boy, can you explain it?"
"No, I can't…was that a threat?"
"What do you think?" Annabeth tilted her head as she looked at him.
"It definitely was." Percy concluded.
"Any more questions?" Annabeth asked, hoping he'd take the hint.
Percy didn't.
"And this cycle isn't affected or triggered by sex." He continued obliviously.
"No, it isn't." Annabeth shook her head, sighing inwardly.
"Why do girls squirt then?"
Annabeth's mouth fell open. "What? What does that even mean?"
"I thought the squirt was the egg roll— moving out. That's why I was so confused."
"What on earth are you talking about? Which part of a girl is supposed to squirt? There's no such thing."
"But—" Percy cut himself off as he realised the conversation had reached the limit of decency.
"Where did you hear this from?" Annabeth demanded. "It's not in the textbook."
"I can't tell you that."
"What? Why not?"
"It's…um…not appropriate."
It took Annabeth a full ten seconds to figure out what he meant, then her eyes widened to the size of footballs.
"Are you kidding me? That's where you learned it from?"
Percy could only nod.
Annabeth groaned, covering her head with her hands. "Stick to the textbook, please. As far as the syllabus is concerned, there's no 'squirting' anywhere."
"Alright." Percy said hurriedly, glad to end the conversation.
Neither of them was in the mood to continue the study session after that. Annabeth followed Percy into the kitchen to help him make dinner, watching as he pulled a pack of spaghetti from the cupboard, then crossed to the big larder. She helped him load green and yellow zucchinis, garlic and onions onto the kitchen counter, then automatically started to wash and peel as he pulled out his saucepan and a deep pot.
"Spaghetti tonight?" She asked him, for lack of anything else to say.
Percy nodded as he went up on his toes to reach into the cupboard above the stove hood, fumbling blindly for something. Annabeth swallowed as her eyes involuntarily traced the movement from the flexing muscles in his arms down to his large calves as they clenched and shifted with his minute movements. She turned back to the vegetables, her mouth feeling dry.
Percy returned to his feet, a jar of spaghetti sauce in his grip. Annabeth used all her will to stop herself from glancing over as he gripped the jar's lid and twisted it open. He went over to his fridge and pulled out a pack of minced beef and a can of beer. He sliced the packaging open with his knife and squeezed the beef out onto a deep dish.
"Here, let's switch." He told her as he crossed the kitchen to dump the empty packaging into the bin. "I'll cut, you marinade the beef."
"What's the beer for?" Annabeth asked curiously as she stepped over to the plate of beef.
"It adds flavour to the bolognese," Percy explained. "I'll show you later."
"I've never heard of beer being used in cooking before," Annabeth said dubiously.
"It's common," Percy told her. "So far I've used beer and wine before. It give the dish that extra bit to stand out."
"Wouldn't we get drunk later then?" Annabeth asked naively, sounding a touch concerned.
"The cooking will evaporate most of the alcohol, leaving only the flavour. Even if some alcohol remained, this is only one can."
"I've heard that a few shots is enough to make people lose their minds." Annabeth still had misgivings.
"Those are hard liquors," Percy realised she knew absolutely nothing about drinks. "Brandy, rum, vodka, gin, whiskey and so on. Beer has one of the lowest alcohol contents of all drinks. There's nothing to worry about."
Annabeth seemed satisfied by the lengthy explanation and returned her attention to the plate of beef. "How do you want this done?"
"Salt, pepper, and…..basil." Percy decided after a moment's thought.
"Where's the basil?" Annabeth asked.
"Over here." Percy reached over to the spice rack and handed the little plastic bottle to her. Their fingers touched briefly as she took the basil from him and her whole body seemed to warm up. She looked away, hoping he wouldn't glance over and see her reddening cheeks. What on earth was wrong with her today?
The two of them worked in silence for the next few minutes. Percy finished with the vegetables and fired up the stove. Olive oil went into the pan and he swirled it around. Annabeth looked up from the beef just as Percy used his spatula to sweep the chopped onions off the board and into the pan.
Annabeth flinched away involuntarily as the onions started to sizzle and pop. Percy stirred them around to even them out.
"How come you don't put the garlic in at the same time?" Annabeth asked.
"Onions go in first because they have higher water content," Percy explained. "They'll last longer in the pan."
Annabeth's concentration drifted helplessly between the shifting sinews in Percy's forearm and the frying onion and garlic bits. After some time they began to turn brown and pointed it out, frowning slightly.
"They're gonna burn."
"Not yet," Percy wagged his finger at the frying pan. "The fire's small, so there's not much chance of that happening. What you're seeing is that they're starting to turn brown. That's called caramelisation. It's how we develop more flavour."
He moved toward her as he spoke and the movement snapped Annabeth back into focus. She hastily made way, scooting aside as Percy took up the beef and scooped it into the deep pan with his spatula, prompting a new wave of sizzling that made Annabeth flinch. Percy started to mix the beef in and her nose twitched as the fragrant scent of onions, garlic and frying beef hit her senses.
"Beef cooks quickly," Percy continued his running commentary. "Once you see it change colour, it's done. Usually we need to watch out for this because it'll becomes tough if overcooked. Today we're making a bolognese so it won't have much of an impact. Could you hand me the beer?"
The smell of the beef had put Annabeth into a momentary reverie and it took her a second for the question to register. She passed the can over and watched as Percy pulled it open with a hiss and a pop, then started to pour its contents into the pan.
"See, the onions and garlic left a brown sticky layer on the pan." Annabeth peered in as Percy scraped his spatula against the bottom.
"That's burnt, right?"
"No. It's caramelised residue. Great flavour. Now that the beer is in we have enough liquid to scrape it out and dissolve it."
Percy started to stir vigorously, using the minced beef and swirling beer like a sponge and soap to clean the brown layer off the surface of the pan. He continued stirring and mixing for some time even after he'd finished scouring all the brown spots off the pan.
"Isn't it time for the vegetables?" Annabeth asked.
"Not yet," Percy shook his head. "Vegetables cook easily and should be added in last. If you put them in too early they'll overcook and lose their colour and nutrients." He took a step to the side and motioned Annabeth to sniff the steam billowing out from the pan. Annabeth did and managed to detect an unfamiliar, fragrant note amidst the heavier scent of garlic, onion, basil and beef that she'd not encountered before.
"That's the beer working its magic," Percy told her with a grin, making her heart flutter.
He groped at the countertop for the jar of pasta sauce, but couldn't get his hands on it because his focus was still on the pan. Annabeth found the jar, twisted the lid off and handed it to him. Percy dumped the glistening red sauce into the pan and stirred it in, his face lighting up with childlike joy as the pan's contents started to turn a deep red.
The pasta sauce bubbled and simmered, the warm aroma filling the whole kitchen. At Percy's signal, Annabeth filled the pot with water and brought it to a boil. She grabbed the sheaf of dry spaghetti, snapped the strands in half and placed them into the boiling water. Percy's mouth dropped open.
"Why did you…don't do that!"
"Do what?" Annabeth asked, confused.
"Pasta must never be snapped or broken," he said vehemently. "You stick one end in the boiling water and when it softens you push the rest of it in."
"Um, alright." Annabeth didn't understand why it was such a big deal. "Why not though?"
"Pasta is meant to be this length so that you can twirl it with the fork. If it's too short, sauce will drip from it, or the short ends will flick around when you twirl. That would be messy."
Annabeth nodded acceptance, although she couldn't see why that was such a big deal.
The kitchen was filled with the sounds of cooking. Annabeth probed the bubbling saucepan of spaghetti with her ladle, peering into the steam to see if the strands were clumping together. Beside her Percy started to add the zucchinis into the sauce, mixing them in with slow, confident strokes of his spatula. The air was thick with the smell of food, making Annabeth's mouth water and her stomach creak.
The spaghetti finished cooking and Annabeth drained the water away. She got two deep plates from the cupboard, intending to distribute the spaghetti between them, but Percy shook his head.
"Fill the pot with cold water and rinse it one more time," he told her. "Then mix olive oil in before plating them out.
Annabeth did as he asked, frowning intently as she tried to scoop spaghetti onto the plates with her ladle. The strands were sliding off her ladle like snakes, frustrating her.
"What's the deal here?" She growled as yet another ladleful of spaghetti slithered out of control.
"Told you," Percy gave her a glance, smiling slightly.
Annabeth finally finished plating the spaghetti just as Percy switched off the heat on his stove and brought the steaming saucepan over. He poured generous servings of bolognese over the untidy heap of spaghetti in the centre of each plate. Annabeth's stomach gave a yearning growl at the sight of the deep red molten deliciousness, heaped with chunks of zucchini and minced beef. Percy and Annabeth carried their plates to the dining table and sat down to eat.
"Looks like you got some extra tutoring today, too." Percy remarked between mouthfuls.
Annabeth smiled at his words. "Yeah. Thanks, Percy. This is really good." She indicated the spaghetti with her fork.
"Glad you like it." Percy smiled back.
Annabeth's appetite seemed endless. The spaghetti was amazing. She stared down at her empty plate, wishing for a second serving despite knowing that she couldn't possibly hold it down. She felt more full than she'd ever been in her life.
Neither of them seemed in a rush to get up from the table. Percy glanced at his phone a couple of times, switching the screen back off each time. Annabeth scrolled through her messages without replying to any of them. As was usually the case about ninety percent of the time, none of them were actually addressed to her or even connected to her.
"When can we do this again?" Percy asked, breaking the silence. "You're the only tutor I know who actually makes sense."
Annabeth tilted her head in thought. "I have training tomorrow, then a game the next day. The day after is our own game. I can come over after that," she suggested.
"Sounds good," Percy nodded in agreement. He stood slowly. "Let's get these plates washed."
Annabeth helped him load the dishwasher, then picked up her things to go. Percy grabbed his car keys and jacket off the coat rack.
"Let's roll."
Annabeth grunted hard as her legs were swept out from under her, pain flaring up her shins as she landed with a hard thump onto the astroturf pitch. A short distance away, the opposing player who'd tackled her was picking herself up, swearing as she saw her teammate dispossessed further up the pitch.
Annabeth had gotten to her feet by then, moving swiftly into the space her marker had left behind. Piper spotted the movement and played a pass into her. An opposing centre-back was alert to the danger and closed Annabeth down immediately. Just inside the box, Annabeth was within shooting distance and pulled back her boot. The centre-back went into a sliding tackle in an attempt to block the shot and Annabeth put her boot down, chopping the ball left as the centre-back went sliding away to the right. The other centre-back had been watching the confrontation and was caught in no-man's land between her and the goal, not realising that Victoria had arrived in the box just behind her. The defender moved to block Annabeth and the blonde playmaker shaped up to shoot, drawing her in, then slid the ball across to Victoria who side-footed it into the net.
"Yes!" Annabeth raised a clenched fist in triumph. Victoria yelled in celebration, then jogged over to Annabeth for a double high-five and a hug.
Today's opponents had put up a dogged defence, sitting deep for long periods before launching counter-attacks whenever they got the ball. Goode had pressed hard for the past seventy minutes before finally getting their breakthrough.
Annabeth knew that their opponents would now drive upfield in an attempt to hit back. This would open up gaps in their lines, creating opportunities for fast-paced attackers like Thalia to break through in behind.
The previously-dull game came to life as Goode's opponents finally took the game to them. Goode were forced back into their own half by a series of short passes as enemy forwards started to drop into midfield to help build attacks. Goode responded by matching their intensity, confident in their ability to ride out the storm.
Try as they might, their opponents could not score. Goode were simply too organised to break down, and individual efforts to dribble past players or launch spectacularly narrow passes were continuously cut out and quashed. Goode's opponents became frustrated and started to lose their patience. A few speculative shots from long range came to nothing. Blocked crosses returned possession back to Goode. Their opponents closed them down aggressively, forcing them back but not actually achieving anything of real value. Sensing an opportunity, Goode's centre-back Miranda sent a long ball upfield.
The opposing defenders cleared the ball, but were not able to direct it to their midfielders as they intended. Annabeth darted ahead of one of them to get on the ball as it fell out of the sky. An opposing midfielder tried to dispossess her and Annabeth accelerated away from her. Hazel ran up on her right and Annabeth exchanged passes with her before looking up to see a wall of defenders standing between her and the goal. She shaped up to shoot, saw them tense, and flicked the ball left to where Thalia arrived at full pace to blast the ball past the stricken keeper for Goode's second goal of the afternoon.
The opposing team were deflated by the second goal. A brief period of pressure followed before they faded back into their own half. A few long balls were easily repelled, the last of which returned possession to Goode High. The blue shirts moved swiftly into their opponents' half and settled into their passing rhythm as the opposing team once again fell back into their low defensive shape.
Both teams seemed to sense the game was decided. Neither pressed hard, Goode content to keep the pressure on inside the final third without committing themselves.
Two minutes into added time, Annabeth found space between the opponents' midfield and defensive lines, her marker having lost concentration for a moment. Clarisse sent the ball to her immediately and she turned onto her lethal right foot, sensing the defenders around her come alive to the sudden threat.
Victoria had peeled away toward the far post, taking one centre-back with her. The other moved to close her down and Annabeth sprang forward, evading the sliding challenge of the opposing CDM before sidestepping the last defender and slotting the ball past the goalkeeper's outstretched limbs. The Goode supporters at the far end broke into enthusiastic celebration as the referee blew for full-time.
"Well done today, ladies." Their team coach Chiron commended during the post-match debrief. "They were stubborn, but we kept the pressure on and got our breakthrough in the end."
A round of whoops and cheers interrupted him and he smiled.
"This is going to happen a lot in future games. Teams know the danger we pose and won't be giving us space to operate. We have to be creative, and patient, in order to break them down. But for now, two days off and I'll see you on Friday. Have a good day."
The players clapped politely as Chiron left the room, then broke into ones and twos to shower and change.
"Where are you headed after this?" Piper asked Annabeth as they walked out of the showers, towelling her long hair.
"Home," Annabeth replied. "You?"
"I'm heading off with Jason," Piper said, then gulped as a familiar hand clapped onto her shoulder.
"Oh, really?" Thalia asked, wrapping her arm around Piper's shoulders. "You told me just now that you were heading home." Her electric-blue eyes sparkled dangerously.
"I was," Piper bobbed her head like a pigeon. "I just didn't mention that—"
"You're bringing Jason home with you?" Thalia filled in.
"How did you know?" Piper asked, feigning surprise.
Annabeth let out a laugh. "Of course."
"I see." Thalia narrowed her eyes.
"I didn't lie to you," Piper said. "We are together, you know."
"If I see either of you having the slightest difficulty walking properly tomorrow, I will shove a jumbo tube of superglue up your hoo-ha and glue you shut forever."
"Can you stop threatening my hoo—who even says that? I told you already, we're not going there, okay?"
"Accidents happen," Thalia grunted. "Just ask Jason."
"Eh?" Piper looked slightly baffled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"There was only supposed to be one of us, me." Thalia explained. "Then one year after I was born, Dad got a little too enthusiastic and Jason was made."
"I'm glad. Thank you Mr Grace." Piper grinned, and Annabeth rolled her eyes.
"Bah." Thalia waved a hand dismissively. "Jason's a counterfeit knock-off. Put together with spare parts. I'm the original."
"Jason's spare parts look pretty good to me." Piper said, and Annabeth shuddered.
"Please don't talk about any of Jason's parts."
"Your head is full of shit," Thalia put her hand on the side of Piper's face and pushed the younger girl away. "I meant it literally, though. He didn't get any clothes or shoes of his own until he was ten. It was all my old hand-me-downs that I'd outgrown."
"What happened after ten?" Annabeth asked.
"He caught up with me," Thalia said. "And his feet got bigger than mine."
"Strikers always have big feet," Annabeth noted. "Victoria's are huge, too. I think it helps them to shoot the ball better."
"You should see Jason's feet now," Piper told them. "They're so long that they stretch across my whole butt." Her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said and she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Oops. Sorry."
"I don't even want to know how you know that." Annabeth sighed.
"Oh, for f—" Thalia groaned. "I've had enough of you for today."
Percy's return to the starting lineup came against Mistletown High, whose men's team, unlike their high-flying ladies', were solidly encamped in the middle of the league table.
Jason had recovered from his ankle injury at last and was fit enough to make the bench, alongside Nico who'd recovered from illness a few days ago and ruled himself out of playing the full ninety minutes as a precaution. Annabeth thus went with a front two of Malcolm and Percy, flanked by Chris and Ron on the wings. Frank and Dakota started in midfield, with the back line unchanged and star keeper David in goal.
"The game plan is the same," Annabeth told her players. "Sit tight and hit them on the counter. Mistletown men's team aren't anything super or spectacular. As long as we look after ourselves they aren't going to get anything going. Let's nick a goal or two and then I'll send Nico and Jason in to finish them off."
Jason stood, looking his usual imposing self in his blue top and white shorts.
"I know things haven't gone the way we wanted this past few weeks. We've had some bad results. That all ends today." He pounded his fist into his palm for emphasis. "Today we get out there and put an end to it. We take our game back. This is our turf, our stadium, our day. Let's go guys! Come on!"
The rest of the players all stood from their seats, clapping and cheering as they headed out. Annabeth gave a nod of thanks to Jason for the impromptu speech as he walked past.
Once the game began, Annabeth realised they were in for a hard time.
Their opponents were solid and unimaginative, as she'd predicted, working the ball left to right and down the flanks. Annabeth could see every one of their moves before it came, their tactics so dull that she thought the spectators must be bored to death by the football they were witnessing. The Goode fans certainly weren't at the level that she'd heard during the blockbuster games against Union and Dorson, although they hadn't gone flat either so she supposed a few good counterattacks would be sufficient to rouse their interest.
But the problem was that Goode's usually fluid counterattacks were flat and uninspiring. Chris and Ron found themselves deadlocked on the flanks, unable to get past dogged fullbacks who stuck to them like rubber bands. The team looked to Percy to create a spark, but Goode's number eleven seemed devoid of the flair and skill that had made him such a terror to defences all across the division.
Percy's first touch came as he dropped a half-step in front of the enemy defence to receive a pass. He tried to turn with the ball and was dispossessed by the enemy centre-back. Percy tried to win it back, but the defender managed to hold him off before passing the ball away. Dakota and Frank pressed the ball back and it eventually went out for a corner.
Frank aimed his delivery for Percy at the near post, but he could not shake off his marker who headed the ball away. Luke was first to the loose ball and passed it away as a Mistletown player charged him down and almost floored him. John received the pass and opted to strike from range, sending a wayward effort over the bar.
The game continued in similar fashion. Goode kept Mistletown at arm's length, but continued to labour whenever they went on the attack. Malcolm attempted a through ball that Percy miscontrolled and lost to an onrushing defender. Frank sent a raking, inch-perfect pass straight into Percy's feet that he eventually sent back under pressure from Mistletown players.
Goode's usual route of attack wasn't working because Percy kept losing his duels. The team didn't know what else to do and neither did Annabeth.
Percy seemed to improve slightly when he moved out to the left, combining with Ron to break down the wing and put crosses in, but without his central presence in the box Goode lacked a cutting edge in front of goal. Malcolm was ineffective from crosses and Chris could not evade the crowd of defenders to get on the ball.
The first half ended goalless, with Goode having the better of the chances but failing to capitalise on them. David had made only one save throughout the forty-five minutes, a positive statistic, but without a goal at the other end they had nothing to show for an otherwise reasonable performance.
"You're playing well," Annabeth told the team at half-time. "Just stay alert, keep doing what you've been doing and we'll get our breakthrough eventually."
The second half started the same way the first had ended, Mistletown's unimaginative possession game against Goode's solid defence and toothless attack. Percy worked hard out of possession but was unable to make anything happen in possession, all his efforts getting blocked or tackled away. Frank twice put him through on goal with pinpoint throughballs. Both times Percy was stopped by the Mistletown keeper, shooting straight at him from point-blank range and getting wiped out as he prepared to shoot the second time. Other chances from the flanks resulted in him heading over the bar and sending a sliding effort narrowly wide of the near post. His frustration was mounting and he threw up his hands in impotent rage as yet another one of his close-range efforts was blocked and turned behind for a corner.
The two sets of players jostled in front of the Mistletown goal. Frank's ball was high and looping. Percy went for it and missed completely. Matthew headed the ball back across goal. Nobody managed to connect and Frank got on the loose ball, fizzed it back the way it came a one-touch pass. Percy went for it again and a Mistletown defender intercepted the ball ahead of him, booting it clear.
Mistletown's dogged approach finally reaped it's reward in the 55th minute when Dakota fouled their centre-forward just outside the box. The enemy winger bent an effort toward the top corner that cannoned off the bar. Matthew tripped in his attempt to head it clear and the ball struck his chest instead, rolling gently into the goal and stopping just past the line. Mistletown players gathered at the corner flag for a celebration, Goode in front of the goal to shake their heads in disappointment.
"It's not your fault," David told Matthew.
"I know," the centre-back replied. "But it's our fault for not getting more out of the game before this happened."
Annabeth sent Jason and Nico on in the 60th minute, hoping against hope that they'd be able to last through the next thirty minutes and extra time. She'd originally agreed with them to send them in only after 70 minutes, but brought the decision forward in order to give the team a much-needed boost. Goode's ineffective counterattacks were boosting Mistletown's morale and she feared her players would lose their belief if they continued to labour in front of goal.
Mistletown pushed forward from the restart to stifle Goode's counterattack, then sat back with the ball, denying Goode the opportunity to win it back. It seemed they had decided to frustrate Goode for the remainder of the game. Such a tactic would often invite pressure and risk capitulation, but against a low-possession side like Goode it was proving to be effective unless someone made a mistake.
The status-quo continued for close to ten minutes. Goode players began looking to Annabeth, seeking direction from the young coach. Annabeth decided they'd been patient for long enough and gave the order to press the ball.
Mistletown's predictable response was to launch the ball long as their entire back line was closed down man-for-man. A battle ensued in midfield as Mistletown tried to make their numerical advantage count. It posed a great risk to Goode and the defence scrambled to clear the danger a few times as Mistletown's attackers went for their throat.
The high-risk strategy finally paid it's dividends several minutes later as one end-to-end sequence resulted in Mark launching an audacious long ball across the length of the entire field to where Jason waited unmarked inside Mistletown's half. A towering leap enabled him to connect perfectly with the ball, glancing it downfield and away from the onrushing Mistletown centre-back into an empty patch of space where Nico was neck-and-neck with the opposing fullback. Percy had started to sprint upfield on the other side of the pitch, but Nico decided not to wait for him, accelerating with impossible speed to take the ball in his stride and blast it past the Mistletown keeper for the equaliser. The Goode fans erupted in enthusiastic applause and Nico celebrated with a cheeky somersault before cupping his ear toward the Mistletown section.
The two teams went at each other in search of the winning goal. Annabeth took Ron off to put Leo in, reluctantly giving up the extra firepower as she recognised the need for more midfield control. Leo ran about the pitch like a madman, chasing every pass and giving Mistletown no time at all on the ball. His efforts paid off in the 88th minute as he intercepted a Mistletown pass to trigger a sweeping Goode counterattack. Percy, Jason and Nico raced toward Mistletown's goal. Leo had been in inspired form thus far in his cameo appearance and decided to take things even further, sending an impossibly accurate fifty-metre pass for Jason to run onto. The imposing striker touched the ball past one defender and nutmegged a second before arrowing the ball past the Mistletown keeper's leg and inside the near post.
"Yes!" Annabeth clenched her fist in fierce satisfaction as the Goode supporters went nuts. Annabeth spotted Piper in the first row of the stands nearby, squealing in happiness at her boyfriend's prowess. He had spotted her as well and jogged over to give her a high five, and Piper responded by lifting her top up to flash her sports bra at him. The supporters around her whistled and cheered as Jason went wide-eyed and red-faced. Annabeth felt a spike of annoyance and she grumbled under her breath as she marched over to her friend and yanked her shirt back down.
"Don't break his concentration," she yelled over the noise of the fans.
"Are you kidding me?" Piper laughed. "I told him I'd give him the full picture if the team wins. This'll make him even more focused.
"The whole team can see what you just did!" Annabeth seethed. "Did you promise them the full picture too?"
"I didn't think about that," Piper admitted. "Sorry."
A long arm appeared from somewhere in the crowd, latching onto Piper's ear and pulling on it hard. Piper squealed and winced as she tried to twist free.
"I saw that!" Thalia emerged from the mass of supporters, electric-blue eyes blazing with wrath. "You shameless skank. I'm going to roll your tits flat like pizza dough."
"Nooooo!" Piper said dramatically, knowing that Thalia wasn't being completely serious. "Help me!" She reached out for Annabeth as Thalia began to drag her off, but the blonde girl turned away from her with a dismissive wave.
"Get yourself out of your own mess, Piper."
Mistletown made one last push from the restart, making up for their lack of know-how with sheer desperation. Red shirts packed the Goode penalty box as the ball came in. Matthew threw himself valiantly at them and managed to head the ball away. Percy was first to the loose ball and carried it upfield. He tried a long diagonal ball toward Nico but mishit his pass and sent it straight to a Mistletown player instead. The ball came back toward Goode's box. Goode defenders stood firm and it looked like the attack would fizzle out, but then a Mistletown midfielder managed to find enough space to work a long-range shot that deflected off his unsuspecting centre-forward's leg, completely wrong-footing David. The ball went into the far corner as David came crashing down at the other end. The muscular goalkeeper yelled curses into the turf as he thumped on it in impotent anger. The referee blew for full-time, ending any hope of another Goode comeback.
Happy New Year everyone! Cheers!