1) My poor romance descriptive skills
2) Inaccurate portrayal of a typical American High school
3) Confusing everyone with my football/soccer terms, especially when I keep alternating.
4) Unrealistic parts in the story. (There are a lot.)
5) Every other error, really.
Please help me improve!
Much much appreciated
[I'll only edit after I've posted the full story, which is already completed and I post daily chapters. So bear with my horrendous work. Please tell me if my daily posts annoy you.]
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“Everyone warm up with thirty laps! No complaining!” Coach Keel barked, referring to us “newbies” as ‘squirts”.
Everyone but me uttered a soft groan and we commenced running around the field. I could hear the basketball team sniggering away. They had seen me run, they knew what was in store for the others.
After ten laps, some of the squirts were already exhausted and slowing down, unable to keep up with the team. I was running comfortably behind the team, concentrating on keeping my breathing regular. Twenty laps had passed, and signs of fatigue were showing up on the footballers’ faces. I was smiling to myself, running leisurely behind them, letting them think I was finally running out of stamina. Those squirts could not run anymore after twenty laps were sent away.
Once in awhile, one of the boys in front would look behind to check how I was faring. After the twenty-seventh lap, they had slowed down to a jog. Now’s the time. Go! I winked at the Miranda and the basketballers, and they knew what would happen next. Using all the energy I had saved up, I sprinted the rest of the three laps, leaving the team with one and a half laps to go when I had finished. Their jaws dropped in disbelief, including Coach Keel’s, and I looked at my friends, rooting for me and chortling away at the same time. I smiled triumphantly at the boys, who had just finished their rounds.
“Nicely done, Pearson.” Coach Keel sighed as he looked over at the boys, who were glaring icy daggers at me. I looked every one of them in the eye as they trudged past to retrieve a ball each.
The boy called Daniel muttered in my ear, “You’d better watch your steps, Pearson. No girl has made the team yet and this year isn’t going to be any different.”
I retorted back, “What? Afraid of a little friendly competition? Scared that a girl could beat you?”
Anger glinted in his eyes and he stormed off, huddling the team together and telling them something. Their heads all turned to look at me, hostile and prepared to make my tryouts living hell.
Bring it on, fellas.
We were down to fourteen people, as three could not even complete the warm ups. Only five would be allowed to make the cut. Our first task was ball work, weaving through cones and showing that we had control over the ball. I breezed through it. One boy swerved his feet too hard, sending the ball flying into the pond nearby and getting himself sent off the field to retrieve the ball and leave.
Thirteen.
Next we were supposed to play goalkeepers as the football team tried to score past us. The boys put on gleeful faces as they watched some of the other boys save thirty over goals out of forty, compared to my twenty-two. I shrugged it off. I wasn’t a goalkeeper, I was a striker. One boy got hit in the face, stomach and the part where it hurt the most for a guy. I think one of his front teeth had gone missing. He had to be carried off the field, his face red and scrunched up in agony. Another, had screamed and run off as balls flew at him. There was no way Coach Keel would accept runners.
Eleven.
The dark clouds and thunder loomed overhead, ready to cause a downpour any second, ending the session much earlier than planned. The eleven of us remaining were dismissed, and behind me, I could hear Coach Keel yelling at the team for losing out to me during warm up. He ordered them to run an extra five laps, and I relished the moment as I sat back and took in this wonderful sight. Every lap they passed me, a string of profanities would be heard, with my name inserted somewhere in between. The mirth was evident in my eyes, but my mouth was kept in a straight line holding back the laughter.
The clouds had finally gotten too heavy and sheets of rain poured down hard. The football team had finished their laps just in time. Miranda, the footballers, the basketballers and I ducked for cover but still got considerably soaked.
My hair was plastered onto my face and my shirt and pants clung to me. As I was wearing a white shirt, the rain had revealed my blue sports bra and I could see the guys ogling. Lucky Miranda, her shirt was completely opaque and Sean would break their face if anyone dared to stare.
I put my hands to my hips, “You got a problem guys?” The basketballers scurried off, though Miranda and Sean lingered by. The footballers were still throwing me death glares.
Daniel stepped forward, “Listen closely, no girl could make it on the team, you hear? You wouldn’t survive the rest of the tryouts even if you tried.” He growled menacingly.
“And why not?” I snarled.
“Because you’re not good enough.” This time, it wasn’t Daniel who spoke. It was Alex.
Before I could open my mouth to defend myself, “Oh my gosh, I broke a nail! I chipped my manicure! My hair is ruined! I need to reapply my makeup! Does this jersey make me look fat?” A big burly boy piped in, mimicking an annoying high pitched voice that would belong to a girl.
“Firstly, not all girls speak like that, it is insulting to assume so. Secondly, I am definitely not that kind of girl, so don’t you give me that crap. Thirdly, I don’t give a damn about what you think. If Coach Keel thinks I have the potential, then I have it. You don’t have his experience so just back off and let me do my own thing.” I spat scathingly. I had no patience to hear what they said and stalked off without another word. I could hear their voices, Sean was reasoning with them. I stopped to listen, while they remained oblivious to my presence.
“Guys, guys, I’ve seen her play. Trust me, she’s better than you give her credit for. Give her a chance.” He pleaded on my behalf. I was truly touched.
“Back off, Sean, what do you know? You couldn’t make the cut either.” Daniel snapped.
“Yeah, that was because I didn’t have the talent, basketball was my calling. But for Liz, football is her element, and you’re just afraid that she’s better than you.”
“What would you know? You don’t have some girl thinking she can actually play your sport, lining up and acting like she’s actually good.”
“If the basketball team ever came across such a girl, we would take her in. Unlike you, we’re actually mature enough and have nothing prejudiced against girls. Face it, you know she’s awesome, but you just don’t want to admit it.”
I heard a crack as Daniel’s fist collided with Sean’s cheek. Sean fell to the ground with a sickening crunch as his head landed on the marble floor.
“Sean? Sean?! Are you okay?” Miranda sobbed, frantically checking the extent of his injuries. Sean managed to stand up and he grunted, “You’re lucky I have a game and can’t afford to get into trouble.”
I was filled with rage. “HOW DARE YOU HIT SEAN???” I screamed furiously, advancing towards Daniel. “HOW DARE YOU?!”
“He deserved it.” Daniel replied, cracking his knuckles and looking at me with disgust.
I delivered a kick to his abdomen and he doubled up in pain, vulgarities spewing out of his mouth.
“You’re lucky I didn’t aim lower.” I snarled viciously. Helping Miranda support Sean, we brought him to the Nurse’s office for an ice pack. The football team didn’t pursue, occupied with helping Daniel.
News of that little incident did not reach many ears. It occurred when the place was deserted, and the ones involved were the only witnesses. The basketball team was informed of course, and severed all ties with the football team. The in-crowd was now split up, the football team and cheerleaders in one bigger group, and the basketball team in another, which Miranda and I sided with. The student population would suspect something, seeing that the footballers and basketballers were not on speaking terms.
“Thanks for defending Sean, Liz.” The basketball captain, Brandon conveyed to me the message on behalf of the entire team. I acknowledged it with a stiff nod, my mind preoccupied.
They are going to wish they were never born! I swear, I will get in.
***
During class, the jocks were all silent, not talking to one another and looking very solemn. I peeked sideways to look at Alex, and his brilliant green eyes were doing the exact same thing as mine. I quickly turned my head, but I could still feel his intent stare on my face. I wonder why.
The second day of tryouts began as scheduled, and I made my way to the field with Miranda’s arm linked in mine. The basketballers had training for the rest of the week up till their big game. They also didn’t need to be told that they were no longer welcome on the soccer field. I heard the basketball coach, Coach Flint had given Sean hell for getting himself injured, which Sean passed off as ‘accidentally slammed the door into his face’ when explaining the bright purple patch that had appeared on the right side of his face.
I stomped onto the field and stood with the other ten squirts. Focus, Liz, focus! I told myself, trying to erase my anger.
“Get into two teams, each made of half the team and half the squirts, NOW!” Coach Keel bellowed.
The only person I could recognize on my team, was Alex. That doofus. Daniel was on the opposing team and was more careful with him, knowing precisely who he would be targeting as his victim, as would the rest of the team.
The whistle was blown and the game commenced, Alex was in possession of the ball and he managed to avoid the opposing squirts easily, the ball flew in my direction and it was too high for any kick so I leapt up and headed the ball, which entered the goal, narrowly missing the goalie’s hands. Figures. Only a squirt would not have blocked that. It was a cheap shot, so I hadn’t impressed anyone. Yet.
I could hear Miranda on the sidelines, encouraging me. But other than that goal I had made, no one else had passed the ball to me, not even the squirts. I was being given the cold shoulder treatment. Throughout the whole game I was isolated from scoring any goals, and had to settle for trying to defend my goal or intercept the ball. I’m not a defender, I’m a freaking striker for goodness sake! Even as I tried to intercept, I would be surrounded by the opposing team, who looked like they wanted to attack me, rather than prevent me from stealing the ball. When Coach turned his back on us, I would find myself suddenly tackled to the ground or tripping over someone’s foot.
I was very pissed. I had not been given the chance to display my skills and that put me in an extremely violent mood.
I was walking alone to the dining hall for dinner after a shower and a change of clothes, when I bumped into Alex, all by himself.
I wanted to ignore him, but he had to open his stupid, big fat mouth.
“Hey Elizabeth.”
“What do you want, Alex? To mock or insult me? Because now really isn’t the time for that.” I growled.
“I want to… apologise.” He mumbled, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.
“W-what?” I spluttered, completely taken by surprise.
“I want to apologise.” He repeated, but more firmly.
“For?”
“The way you were… treated. You weren’t given a fair chance to play.”
My eyes narrowed, “Is this some kind of prank Taylor? Because if it is, you are so dead.” I hissed.
“I’m not playing a prank. I just think that if you’re not going to make the cut, let it be because you really don’t have the talent.”
I was too incensed to understand that he was trying to be nice at the time. “I will freaking get in, Alex, I swear I will. I don’t care whether you think I can make it in or not so just get out of my way.” I roughly pushed him out of the way and stomped off to dinner. I exited the dining hall with cuts and bruises all over me. The absence of teachers and me being by myself was a perfect opportunity for the football team, excluding Alex whom I met on my way there, to pounce on me and get revenge. There was this ‘boys don’t punch girls’ thing, but if I didn’t wanted to be treated like a girl, I would have to take my beating in silence, which I did.
The third and final day of the tryouts was the last chance to prove my worth. I was not going to lose out. Absolutely no way. Thankfully, Coach Keel seemed to be thinking along the same lines as me, and he ordered a one-on-one match. Each one of the squirts was asked which position they would most likely play best and I promptly replied, “I’m a striker.” At my reply, Alex’s head turned in my direction and his eyes narrowed at me. I pretended that he was not there.
Each squirt and footballer was paired up with their corresponding positions, and guess who I got?
Yeah, that’s right. Alex.
Expletives ran through my head as he smirked at me. He was back to his usual self, unlike last evening, when he took on an uncommonly timid demeanour. “Good luck, Pearson. You’re going to need it.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. We were settled to go last. We were supposed to score goals at our opponent and defend our own goal at the same time. First one to hit fifteen points wins. That seemed relatively simple. I watched as each pair took turns to have a go at each other. Most of the time, the squirt was defeated. But whenever a squirt won, he would perceivably make the cut. After ten rounds, it was my turn.
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Darn. I looked at this chapter and I know its going to stink.
*sighs* Oh well, bring on the critiques.
*Runs and ducks for cover*
Sorry for the disappointment
chapter three is heaps better.
