Friendship Goals

RINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!

The bell rings, a shrill, sharp sound, yet it's that sound that grants our freedom. I hastily stuff my already crumpled book and papers into my bulging bag, and rush of, not even bothering to say bye to Mr. James, which I usually do daily. But today was different. Today was the day when the third most important thing of the year came out. It was the day when the extra classes came out. I was bursting with excitement, something that I don't feel that often.

Five minutes after class, and I find Stacy. She was waiting in the place that we call home in school if that makes any sense. Anyway, that place is under the steps, and whenever there's something important going on, we go there.

“OH MY GOD!!! THEY'RE GOING TO COME TODAY!!!” I yell as soon as I get there.

"Relax dude, I know, but... what do you want to get? I mean, I already know, but do you have any ideas?"

"I know what I don't want. Sports. Nothing to do with sports."

Stacy ruffles my hair, something that's not so easy to do since I can't remember the last time I brushed it.

"If you don't want sports, you need to start brushing your hair. No one cares about your hair in sports. But in drama, choir, and all the others, you need to brush your hair."

"Alright, alright, let's go! I choose..."

Trying to keep her in suspense, I pause for a total of 0.3 seconds before-

"C'mon, Richard, just tell me!!! I want to see if I convinced you!"

"Fine. Soccer. I don't want to brush my hair. But don't blame me if I'm terrible," I say.

"Deal."

We both sign up for sports and, after bargaining with the coach, who let me have two coaches, Stacy, and Coach Jeff, we head home. We wanted free access to the field, and he was kind enough to give it to us. When we arrive, I throw my bag in my room and head off to Stacy's.

Three days later, I still can't run across the field without tripping or score a pretty good goal. All while Stacy is trying and (always) succeeding in distracting me. She also tries tackling me, and not surprisingly, I still fail.

"No, I didn't think it would be this fun," I admit to Stacy before my first game. " But I don't think it's my fault that I have pre-game jitters. Anyway, I'm still terrible at soccer, I can't even-"

"You'll do fine! Just relax, ok? You don't need to be perfect on your first try!" she sounds exhausted, and as I look at her, I realize how hard she's been working to prepare me for this moment. It was my turn to reassure.

"Hey, don't worry, you did an awesome job, I wouldn't have gotten to the point where I could dribble up a field without getting tackled. You're fine."

"Ok, I'll be fine."

She walks over to the coach and, after a brief discussion, walks out of the locker rooms. I go to the coach.

"Do you know where Stacy is?" I ask.

"Yes," he says, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Can you tell me where she is?"

"Yes, but I won't."

"Why?"

"Well if you feel that strongly about it... If you can find her before the game starts, then that's great. But you need to come back before the game starts."

“But-” He gives me a piercing glare. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Awesome!”

I run off to find Stacy and discover that she’s in her car.

“Hey, Stace, what’s wrong?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. It’s fine”

“Are you sure? Cause if you are, then at least come back to the game, we need you.”

“Alright, I’ll come but come to my car after the game.”

She looks sad, but I know better than to press on. We run back to the lockers, just in time for the game.

“OK team! This is where I get to see how hard you’ve been practicing since our last practice! Remember the 4 S’. Sprint, Slow down Shut down, Sit down.”

We all nod, then run onto the field. I’m the defender, which means I can dribble! Someone passes the ball to me. I start running up the field, and BOOM!! I’m on the floor. I run after the person, and remembering what coach said, sprinted to the player, slowed down, then shut down, which is the equivalent of keeping your

eyes on the ball. After that, I sat down. Hard.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?” Coach Jeff shouted.

I was too busy to respond because I had surprised the player so much. I ended up with the ball at my feet and got up to dribble up the field. I passed to Stacy, who had gotten over her laughing fit just in time. Her bright blue eyes twinkled, and I was glad to see I

had made her happy again.

“Here, ball!” I yelled, and she passed.

I was in the perfect position to score and I shot. I kicked the ball, spun around…and looked up. The ball had gone straight towards the keeper.

“Dang it,” I muttered, still watching the ball.

The keeper saved the ball, but and flung it towards me. I tried to control it, but it hit my head. Hard. No one seemed to notice, but my vision was blurry, I saw Stacy running towards me, felt her hugging me, but after that, nothing. Everything that had happened was…faint. I didn’t know how to explain it. After I woke up in the hospital, everyone was taking care of me.

“Wha-what happened?” I stuttered.

“You fainted dear, right after you scored.” the nurse replied.

“I- you mean, like, me, right?” I confirm.

“Who else?” the nurse's voice was calm but firm.

“Wait a sec…” I pause to confirm. “You mean, we won!? Because of… me?”

“Yep! All because of you. Your friends left a whole pile of stuff for you.”

I glance over to the table. It’s piled high with chocolate, get well soon cards, and flowers. I see the phone and hastily reach for it.

“Hey! What’re you doing?” a sharp voice cuts in.

“Um, um, I wanted to call my fried eggs, I mean, my friends.” I stutter.

“Very well, but before you touch anything, please ask.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I mutter.

I get the phone and punch in Stacy’s number.

“Hey Stace, how are you?”

“Hey!!! Richard! Hope you’re feeling better! I’m great!”

“Did- what happened after the game?”

“Well, after you scored, the whole team escorted you to the hospital, like, even Maria, so then after that-”

“Waiiiit… you mean Maria didn’t- I mean doesn’t hate me?”

“I mean, the only thing she was mutter about how much time it was wasting so, no, she still hates you, even more now, I think. Anyway, like I was saying, after that, we all went to Coach’s house, he has TWO ADORABLE cats, they’re called Snowy and Midnight, white and black. We wrote get well soon cards and made the HUGE poster that’s hung up in your room thingy. After that, well, we got some good or bad news, it depends on how you take it. There’s going to be a rematch.” I hear something in the background. “Oh shoot, sorry Rich, I need to leave. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I had a lot to think about.