They got there just in time for the lights in the arena to dim and the spotlights to start moving across the fans’ seats. The announcer yelled, “Let’s get ready to welcome your Florida Storm!”
Miriam’s heart raced as the players were called one-by-one.
“Number seventy-seven, Vinny Nelson. Number seven, Grant Vaughn.”
They all jogged out to midfield when their names were called.
“Now for your starting lineup. Team captain and keeper, number one, Finn O’Brien!”
The crowd went wild as Finn ran out onto the field. He was a fan favorite and those fans were excited for a new season.
“On defense, number nine, Bastian Ramirez.”
Bastian ran out, pulling some kids from the youth soccer league with him. It was a special thing he did every game. The kids he ran out with got to stay on the field with the players during the national anthem. They had smiles that practically filled their whole faces as they joined the rest of the players at half-field.
“At mid-field, number eighty-seven, Pedro Barros.”
Miriam clapped along with everyone else as Barros jogged onto the field.
“On offense, and making his Storm return, number thirty-two, Silas Jenkins.”
Everything seemed to slow down. Miriam held her breath as Silas jogged out to the center of the field. His smile was wide as he lifted his hands above his head. Then he turned toward where she stood mindlessly clapping and winked at her.
Everything sped up and went back to normal. Though normal wasn’t exactly the right word because Miriam’s blood was boiling. That was the same gesture Silas used to make at her before every game—when they were dating.
He’d lost the right to do that when he left. Apparently, he’d also lost his mind if he thought he was allowed to do it now that he was back.
She vaguely registered the announcer calling two more names, but Silas had made it difficult to concentrate on what was going on.
“You okay?”
Miriam’s head snapped toward the sound of Harris’ voice. “Of course” was her snippy response.
“Are you sure? I think I can hear the sound of your teeth grinding over the announcer’s voice.”
A wave of embarrassment washed over her. She took a steadying breath. “It’s just—”
“Hard seeing an ex. I get it.”
Miriam nodded. “Yeah.”
It was hard seeing an ex, but this was different.
This wasn’t bumping into them at the grocery store and missing out on getting Oreos because you didn’t want to go down the same aisle as them. It felt especially hard since this particular ex showed up out of nowhere, technically worked with Miriam, and wanted to pretend like the last two years hadn’t happened.
Not that Miriam could say all that to Harris. Thankfully, she didn’t have to because a local singer was walking out to the middle of the field with a microphone in her hand. The entire crowd stood for the national anthem. Miriam tried to keep her gaze on the giant flag on the wall of the arena—now illuminated by a spotlight. But, try as she might, her traitorous eyes went to where the players were lined up.
At the same time, Silas’ head turned ever so slightly in her direction. His eyes met Miriam’s, and when he realized she was looking at him, he smiled widely. Even with the dimmed lights of the arena as the singer hit the high notes of the anthem, she could see the dimple on his left cheek.
She frowned at him and was thankful when the song finished. The crowd started cheering, and the lights came back on in preparation for kickoff. Players from both teams found their spots, and when the ref blew his whistle the field was filled with a flurry of movement.
It was the fast-paced nature of the game that had caused Miriam to fall in love with arena soccer in the first place. It was a completely different game from MLS or the EPL. It was almost like hockey and soccer had a baby, and that baby got the best from both of its parents. The field was much smaller, there were only five players plus the goalkeeper, and they used the walls around the field to bounce balls to their intended target. Plus, there was a DJ that played upbeat music the entire time.
Besides Silas Jenkins, what wasn’t there to love?
Miriam rested her hands on the board dividing the field from the floor seats and watched the game, trying her best to ignore the strange feeling in her chest every time Silas got the ball.
Vermont—a team with a high percentage of rookies—ran around chasing the ball as the Storm passed it expertly back and forth quickly moving into an offensive position. Bastian brought it upfield, side-booted it to Silas, who took a shot and...goal!
The sirens went off and the arena lights dimmed. Spotlights shone over the crowd for a moment before they landed on Silas and Bastian. All the players ran out in the middle of the field to slap their backs as the crowd cheered loudly.
Miriam’s eyes went to the clock.
14:13
Silas had gotten the first goal of the game—of the season—in less than a minute.
She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be excited or upset that the golden boy had made such a triumphant return. Her eyes went to the jumble of players in the middle of the field. The ones who weren’t playing, slowly returned to the bench as the lights went back up.
Just like old times, Silas’ gaze found Miriam’s. He wore the same wide smile as earlier, but somehow, he looked younger at that moment. Like a child on Christmas morning who’d just opened the one present he’d wanted more than anything.
Miriam supposed that was a pretty accurate interpretation. Silas only cared
