affection and praise one second and then pull away and be completely cold the next. Whenever he pulled away, the girls would start showing him affection. He played it masterfully and for a moment, Eric was jealous.
“So where’d you learn to play soccer?” high voice asked as the waitress cleared away their plates and went to bring their check.
“My dad,” Eric said. “He taught me everything I guess. Me and my mom weren’t that close and I didn’t really have any other relatives, so, it was just me and my dad.”
“And he’s cool as shit,” Jason said.
“He is cool,” Eric agreed. “I’m goin’ to New York to see him soon. After he gets back from India.”
Wendy had been watching how the girl was drooling over Eric the entire meal and she was beginning to get fed up with it. The girl had even reached over and caressed his hand once to get his attention. Wendy checked her watch. “It’s time to go hon; I got a class at two.”
“All right,” Eric said as he stood. “Well, it was nice to meet you ladies. Why don’t you guys come with Jason tomorrow to the game?” “Sure,” high voice said. “I’ll be there cheering you on.” Wendy sent her a scowl and then wrapped her arm around Eric’s, watching the girl to make sure she noticed. Eric patted Jason’s head. “I’ll see you later.” “Yeah, hey, and don’t forget; you were gonna help me with biology tonight.” “Why don’t I just make two copies of everything I do for that class cause you just end up copying me anyway?” “Sounds good to me,” Jason said, polishing off the last of a large mug of beer.
The sun was at its peak by the time Eric climbed back into the Jetta. The heat felt nice for a change; this winter had been long and soaked the city in snow almost every day. There’d been a few reported deaths from the cold, one child that got lost on a hiking trail and two homeless men. One of the men had frozen to death behind a grocery store; in the middle of the city. A couple of stock boys who were tossing out empty cardboard boxes found him curled in the fetal position next to a dumpster. “That girl’s a fucking bitch,” Wendy said, sitting down and starting the car. “Which one?” “I don’t know her fucking name. The one that sounded like she was twelve.” “Really? She seemed nice,” Eric said, goading her on. “Nice! You touch her and I’ll cut your dick off, Eric.” Eric leaned over, chuckling, and began tickling her. “I’m just kidding.” “Don’t tickle me.”
He pinned her arm against his chest and then began tickling her until she started to laugh. He loved the way she laughed, throwing her head back, pink lips spreading over perfect teeth. Eric leaned down and put his mouth over hers, her warm tongue with his. She began breathing heavily and hands started roaming over his body and Eric pulled away. “I can’t,” he said. “What? What’s wrong?” “I got the game tomorrow, it saps my strength.” “Are you kidding me?” “I can’t Wend, sorry.” He kissed her lips. “But tomorrow night,” he whispered.
She took a deep breath. Though she wanted to be angry, this was something she’d grown accustomed to. He took competition seriously and never hid that fact from her. Wendy just started the car and began driving him back to the dorms, her hand on his lap.
CHAPTER
6
The soccer field was dry and hot, the sun burning the skin on the back of Eric’s neck. He stood in front of the goal, his hands on his knees, breathing quick shallow breaths. The stands were nearly full but he could clearly see where Jason and the two girls from yesterday were sitting, getting drunk from Gatorade bottles filled with booze. They were all wearing the same clothes from the previous day.
You dirty dog.
There was a commotion ahead on the field and Eric could see number 53, a large Puerto Rican with thick black hair coming down to his shoulders rushing at him with the ball at his feet. 53 weaved past one of the New Hampshire forwards as easily as if he were running past a child. Sweat was dripping from Eric’s forehead though he’d done very little during the game. 53 had run across the field at least two dozen times and hardly seemed phased by the heat.
Eric looked over to Wendy at the sidelines; she had her hands over her face and was peeking through the cracks in her fingers. There was only thirty seconds left in the game and New Hampshire was ahead of Brooklyn College by one goal. If this goal went in it would go to sudden death and more time out in the sun.
Eric knelt down and ripped out some strands of grass. He sniffed them, the fresh scent of dirt in his nostrils, and threw them down. It was a habit he’d picked up watching his father play soccer on a semi-pro team.
53 was only a couple dozen feet away now. He was coming in from an angle and it seemed as if the rest of Eric’s team was in slow motion; like they were running through water trying to catch up.
53 bridged the gap and was close enough to the goal that Eric could hear his panting; he was human after all. He looked Eric in the eyes as he ran toward the east side of the goal post. Eric should’ve jumped to that side but he kept his eyes glued to 53’s; the feet could lie but his eyes couldn’t. 53’s eyes said he was going for the west side.
Eric took a step to the east pretending to play into his hands. 53 took a series of short steps in preparation for the kick and Eric lunged for the west side. The ball made a whizzing sound as it zipped toward him. It was going over head.
He jumped into the air and thrust out his hands and felt the sharp sting of impact against them before he hit the ground. He wasn’t sure what happened; the ball was rolling near the goal line but it could’ve bounced out after a score. It was only when he looked over to Wendy and saw her jumping up and down that he realized he’d stopped the ball.
As the crowd starting cheering he looked to 53 and winked.
Jason was on the field before the time was up. He wrapped his arms around Eric and tried to pick him up but was too small and too drunk so he just stood with his arm around his shoulders as the other players from New Hampshire started slapping Eric’s ass and giving him high fives. High voice came up and gave Eric a hug but Wendy ran over, nudging her out of the way, and gave him a fat kiss. “I can’t wait for tonight,” she whispered in his ear. “You comin’ out tonight?” Jason yelled over the commotion. “Later,” Eric said, “maybe around eleven.” Jason nodded. “I gotta go drop the girls off. Call my cell.”
Eric nodded, took Wendy’s hand, and snuck off the field as the coach called everybody back to the locker rooms. He pressed her against the wall of the exit tunnel and began kissing her until people started to come by on their way out.
They walked back to her car, a few people yelling things to Eric on his great play, and then left the stadium. Eric felt relaxed. The team would be holding a party tomorrow and he looked forward to it. Camaraderie was something he’d had little of growing up. “Where to?” Wendy said. “I have to have lunch with my mom but we can meet up after.” “It’s like three o’clock.” “I know but she said she’d wait for me. You can just drop me off at the dorms; she likes to pick me up and drive me around.” “Mommy’s little boy, huh?” Eric looked over to her and leaned in, nibbling on her ear and causing her to squirm a little though she didn’t resist.
Wendy dropped him off and gave him a long kiss, promising him that she had a special treat in store for him tonight. Eric left the car aroused and happy. He sat down on the curb in front of the dorms, leaning back on his hands, the cement of the sidewalk warm underneath his fingers.
The University of New Hampshire campus was beautiful during the summer months; numerous trees and shrubbery showing off lush greens and yellows. He typically spent the summers with his father in Manhattan and enjoyed the pure energy that a large city could exude, especially the sexual energy, but he always missed the crystal blue skies and trees of campus.
He’d be leaving for New York in two weeks and was looking forward to time with his father. Though his parents divorced soon after they had him, he and his father had always stayed close; spending long summers traveling to exotic locations Eric hadn’t heard of; like Belmopan or Santa Rosa. His father loved travel. Said it kept the soul awake. There was some truth in it, Eric guessed. But almost twenty now he knew that that wasn’t the sole reason his father was always gone. Too much travel could turn one into a stranger at home, which is exactly what
