"Where is he?", Lance asked his friend as he squinted at the small football pitch. "Can't see him."
"Over there," Rex said, pointing to a young boy wearing the No. 11 shirt.
"Oh yeah? He sure looks like Diego Maradona."
"A bit taller, though," Rex shrugged as he gulped the rest of his water.
Lance laughed at the remark and leaned back to enjoy the game which was just about to begin. They were among other parents, guardians and family members seated in the stands, watching their little men play in the school's football practice match. Lance and Rex had been coaching Rex's little brother, Chase, for weeks and they had promised to drop by to cheer him on and watch him score as many goals as he could.
"Go get 'em, Chase!", Rex hailed and hooted from the stands as the whistle was blown for kick-off.
But trouble began immediately. He and Lance kept their eye on Chase as he tried to fight off an opponent who was trying to steal the ball from him. Play was stopped as Chase unwittingly stamped his hand on the opponent's face. The coach came forward to talk to both players.
"I tell him he'll kill someone with that right hand one day," Rex said, shaking his head.
"Takes after his brother," Lance said, referring to Rex's right cross that had gotten them out of many a brawl unscathed.
There was no response from his friend. The game continued and they both watched in silence, hoping to see Chase put to use the tricks they had taught him.
"Foul! Penalty!", Rex shouted, jumping to his feet as one of his brother's teammates was brought down in the box.
"I just hope they'll let Chase take it," he murmured as he sat back down, satisfied that the penalty had finally been awarded.
"Don't worry. They ain't got a better striker," Lance assured. Both boys watched keenly as the coach gave the captain of the fouled side the opportunity to pick the player that would take the penalty. The young defender was undecided for a while, but finally settled on a lanky midfielder.
"Fuck!", Rex swore as he saw that his brother was not the chosen one.
"Relax," Lance admonished. "The kid could score."
"If the wind don't take him off the pitch first."
The lanky boy picked the ball, positioned it properly and took his place behind it. He seemed very confident as he faced the goalkeeper who was nervously jumping up and down, trying to prep himself for the shot. Even though Chase was not the one taking the penalty, Lance and Rex were on the edge of their seats, anxiously watching the proceedings. Some of the other parents and relatives were hooting and shouting words of encouragement and advice from the stands.
One woman wearing the colors of the school team, whom Lance suspected to be the midfielder's mother, was at the head of the gang, egging the penalty taker at the top of her lungs.
Finally, the whistle was blown and the midfielder moved a few paces back, took a deep breath and began the little run to the spot. The entire venue went silent as everyone watched. Most people, Lance and Rex included, had their mouths open as they watched in total concentration. Rex could not notice and Lance could not feel his friend's nails digging into his knee as Rex held on tight in anticipation.
The midfielder reached the spot and lashed out with his left foot, sending the ball flying toward the left side of the net. But the goalkeeper must have known him quite well because he dove in that same direction, punching the ball back into the field before it could cross the goal line. The boy stood rooted to the spot in surprise as he watched the goalkeeper save his shot, but the rest of the team were not with him in his inaction.
From nowhere, the wearer of the No. 11 shirt deployed a strong right foot, hitting the ball before it could hit the pitch and sending a fiery shot into the back of the net, giving the goalkeeper absolutely no chance. Immediately, the stands went alive with celebration, much more celebration than the players themselves could muster.
Lance and Rex were on their feet, jumping like five-year olds who had just been presented with the greatest gift of their lives. Everyone was happy and proud, even supporters of the trailing team clapped. Only two women, Lance could see, were not looking very happy. They were seated side by side, several seats away from the boys. When the goalkeeper had saved the first shot, they had been the first to celebrate, but after the goal, they looked like people in mourning. Perhaps they were related to the goalkeeper? But wait... there was something familiar about the little girl seated on the knee of one of the women. Lance craned his neck, trying to gain a better view, but Rex was hitting him excitedly, trying to get his attention.
"Look look, that style we taught him.. he's using it! Come on, look at that! Go, little man! Give 'em hell! Get a hartrick!"
"Not in a thousand years," a voice from behind said, startling the boys. They turned around to see a 40-ish blonde woman smiling at them.
"My Frank won't give 'em the chance. He's the left back," she added by way of explanation.
"If he was that good, he would've known not to bring down a man in the box," Rex shot back.
"He'll learn from his mistake. It won't happen again."
"Well, we're still leading."
"Frank's a good scorer too."
Rex heard her alright, but he said nothing, choosing to turn his attention back to the game instead. The match was looking more like an inter-school competition than an intra-school practice match. Lance knew that if the woman was just another young man, her last statement could have led to more than just silence on Rex's part. Nevertheless, the match went on unperturbed and supporters of both teams took turns trying to drown one another's voice in the cheering of their respective teams.
***
When the match finally ended, Lance went with Rex to congratulate Chase on his side's 2-1 win. Chase had gotten a brace and an own goal from a defender had given the opposing side a consolation goal.
While Rex was hard at work giving his brother useful tips on how he could work his way to becoming Captain of the school team, Lance thought it the right time to go hunt for some snacks. That was when he caught sight of the girl who was with the two women in the stands. Sure enough, they were talking with the goalkeeper, consoling him it seemed. The little girl turned slightly, showing her face to Lance. It was Lisa! She saw him and waved, showing her incomplete teeth before alerting her mother to his presence.
"Mommy, look. Over there."
Lance prayed the ground beneath him would just break open to receive him and hide him from Cara's notice. But nevertheless, he watched in trepidation as Cara looked in the direction Lisa was pointing. Their eyes had hardly met when Cara jerked her face away. She didn't look in that direction again until Lance had walked off.
Lance was still in mourning three days after his confirmation of Cara's hatred for him. If she still hadn't told his mother about what they.. he.. had done, then perhaps she never would. But that didn't stop him from regretting his actions that evening. He spent two days trying to figure out what he could have done differently. It was on the third day that he realized that there was nothing he could have done differently, but one thing he should never have done: going to her house for no sensible reason. One thing he knew though was that he owed her an apology, but when would he ever have the chance to deliver it?**His eyes on the ground, Lance was focused on kicking anything and everything in sight as he approached his home. He had just finished playing in a high-stake tennis match which he had lost 6-0 6-3 to a neighbor and longtime rival. On a good day, he would have easily floored Dennis, but the whole situation with Cara had completely thrown him off form.
Lance was happy with his work of developing software and web design, though he knew that someday he'd have to go to college, just to satisfy his mom. She was bent on him getting a degree. He thought she was old school, but the truth was that she feared that the ease with which he was making money now would be the same ease with which he would not be able to make such money in the near future. She really did not fully understand what he was doing, but she had the firm belief that whatever came easy left easy.Lance would be 20 in a few days and Carol wanted to at least have a party for him at the house. A real party. One where he'd be given the chance to invite everyone he'd like to invite. She was proud of him and she wanted him happy, even though he wasn't making her very happy by still not applying for college, but she wouldn't stop reminding him.She wanted to tell the entire neighborhood that her son and only child wasn't a good-for-nothing lazy bum. He
"Haven't seen him since he dropped me off last night... Perhaps... Yeah, try that... Okay... Don't worry, he'll turn up soon enough... Denada."Then she dropped the phone and turned to look at Lance who was just then walking into the kitchen and throwing on his shirt."Your mom's looking everywhere for you," she said, eyeing his naked torso."Yeah. Umm.. how's Lisa?""She's fine. At my sister's. She'll be back this afternoon."He simply nodded and with no idea of what else to say, he padded toward the door."Won't you eat something?", Cara asked from behind."Umm.. no. I'm fine. Thanks."Then he pulled open the door. Cara thought he was gone, but when she didn't hear the door close, she looked up, only to find him staring back at her. That look, it was the look that made her feel all the wrong, sweet things in all the wrong, sweet places. She swallowed or rather, tried to as she h
It'd been well over a month since the last time Lance spent the night in Cara's bed. Within this period, they'd grown closer in more ways than one, but not close enough for Cara to be careless. That was why she always came up with excuses whenever he asked to spend the night at her place. On those days when she couldn't get out of it without promising something, she would agree to sex in his car or hers, parked in a quiet, deserted area.On one such days, they were almost caught by a policeman whom she knew, if not for Lance's agility in jumping to the driver seat and driving out of the area before the cop could find out exactly what had caused the car to vibrate so much. After that narrow escape, Cara swore there and then never again to be fully naked while having sex in a car.But that was far from being the only thing they engaged in. Dinner and going to the movies were other things they did too, always at night of course, to reduce the risk of being seen by someone
Cara had just finished inspecting the work the young man had done on the pool. It wasn't a good job, it was a superb job! By himself, he had done what she never believed two people could do, and in less time too.Getting someone to clean the pool was something she had been postponing day after day just as she had been postponing getting enough exercise to trim down the excess fat that was now building up in her body. She had always been chubby, but certainly not obese and she had no wish to make the progression.Waking up this morning, she had suddenly felt the need to do something physical. But when she looked out of her window at the pool, it was a mess! There was no way in hell she'd consider swimming in such a gutter. Long disuse had turned it into exactly that: an unkempt gutter. So she quickly picked up her phone and dialed the guy that mowed her lawn, fixed her faucet and other such odd jobs around the house. She was relieved when he told her that he
**FEW MONTHS LATER**Lance had been struck by surprise when his mother invited him to accompany her to her friend's birthday party, which would also double as a get-together of classmates of a girls community college that Carol and the celebrant had both attended. Lance was supposed to wear a tuxedo, certainly not something he did often. But the worst part was the bow tie. Carol had only given him a few hours notice, asking him to wear this and that, and look such and such. So the poor young man began prancing about in front of a computer screen an hour before the 8pm attendance time. Apparently, the DIY YouTube videos were not so easy to follow. His mother soon noticed his dilemma."Maybe you should stand exactly the way the guy's standing, instead of facing him," she suggested."Seriously? That would mean I'd have to turn my back to him, so how do I get to see him?""Get a mirror. And we're only minute
Cara exhaled as she stepped down from the treadmill at the local gym. It had been an eventful morning of exercise, the only event being that she had spent an hour on the treadmill - something that she had never been able to achieve before now. The events of the previous night had been what had inspired that burst of stamina.Now that she had slept on it and mulled it over again and again, she kept seeing reasons why she should not have backed down so easily. At first, she felt that Carol could not really be blamed, considering the fact that Lance was her son. She would have done even worse if it were her Lisa. But then it occurred to her that both cases were way different.Lisa was a child and Lance was an adult, a very manly one at that, if she were to consider the things he did to her in bed. He had the right and was old enough to make his own choices. Why did Carol feel the need to interfere? Not that Cara was a notorious person. She'd actually been one
Five days of the week were the only times that Cara visited the gym. She spent the weekends doing other little exercises around the house, like tending the garden at the back and swimming. She had just finished weeding the garden with her little shovel on a Saturday morning and was about to go in for a shower when she heard a car pull up somewhere behind her. At first, she thought it was Lance, but when she turned to look, she found that it was his mother instead."Good Morning, Carol," she greeted as the older woman walked up to her."Where is Lance?", Carol demanded, ignoring her greeting.Cara was by no means surprised. It was clear that that incident at the party had forever damaged their friendship."I have no idea. Haven't seen him in a long while," she shrugged in reply."Are you sure?", Carol asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "I sincerely hope he's not somewhere on a bed in your house, because that would be...""Look, Carol," Cara cut