Chapter Two
So, he wasn’t immune to the gorgeous newcomer. After half an hour with her, Adam felt as though they were firm friends. She was easy to talk to, keen to learn about Cherry Lake and didn’t even know who he was. Kind of refreshing not to be recognized and fussed over.
He drove past the old Grange, one of his father’s renovation projects, past the school’s main building and slowed when he came to the sports field. A group of teens kicked a ball and he paused to watch them. This was where he’d been given the opportunity to play soccer, thanks to Coach Miller. The gruffly sports teacher had seen something promising in the young boy and encouraged him to play. Now his days in the big league were almost coming to an end. Adam wished he could go back and start all over again.
An explosion pulled him out of his reminiscing. “What the heck?” A gangly teen ran toward the car, fear on his face, hands out in apology. “Sorry, Adam. I didn’t mean to hit your car.”
Adam opened the door and got out, grabbed the ball before the boy could. “What were you thinking?”
“Hey, I said I was sorry. It wasn’t like I was aiming for you or anything. I was trying a shot and I missed.” The boy stood with his head hanging, embarrassed but defiant at the same time.
Adam looked at him, saw his friends standing back out of the way. “What kind of shot?”
The teen lifted his chin and named the kick. “You should know it, you can curve a ball better than most.”
“You were trying to bend it, yeah?” Adam felt a stab of pride at the boy’s determination, the memories of long nights practicing with his dad to get that move right and knew how hard it could be.
“But he can’t do it no matter how hard he tries. None of us can.” The other boys had come forward when Adam had shown a spark of interest.
“Coach reckons we need to practice more but it’s not working. We lost another season and he’s not happy.” The boy held his hand out for the ball.
“You’re Cory Woods, aren’t you? Jake’s kid.” He’d grown up since Adam had been in Seattle. Last time he’d seen Cory, he’d been in diapers and barely walking. His father had been a year ahead of Adam in school and was now a fireman in Cherry Lake according to his mother.
“So? You gonna tell him I hit your car?”
Adam raised an eyebrow, glanced at the shiny paint. “Did you damage it?”
Cory looked over his shoulder at the car, frowned and then lifted his chin. “No.”
“So, how about I give you a lesson? Not saying you’ll get it right away but we can try if you want to.” Adam’s competitive streak rose up and stood proudly waving the flag. He knew better than to try and force it down.
Cory shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care but he couldn’t hide the smile taking over his face.
“Let me change my shoes.” Adam threw the ball to him, opened the trunk of his car and took out his sports bag. Like any keen sportsman, he kept a change of clothes and sponsor supplied boots in his car. One of the perks of being the face of a popular sporting brand, the latest styles delivered to his door. Never knew when he might get a chance to work out or take on a friendly game. He slipped them on, did up the laces and jogged over to the boys who were huddled near the goal line talking in excited whispers.
“Stand in the middle of the goal posts and watch how I angle my body when I kick.” Adam took the ball and walked back to give himself room to curve the ball.
Cory shuffled over to the goal posts and stood uncertainly between them. “My granddad will be furious if I come home with a bloody nose. Doubt he’d believe me if I told him you did it.”
“If you know me that well, Cory, you’ll know I don’t miss. Stand still and watch.” Adam lined up the boy in his vision, imagined the spot beside his right ear, saw the kick in his mind and stepped back. He rubbed his hands together, glanced at the goal posts again and stepped forward lifting his foot. The kick cracked in the still night air and the group of boys sighed in awe as the ball curved around Cory and hit the back of the net.
Cory stood frozen for a second and then a slow grin spread over his face. “Can you show me how to do that, please Adam?”
“It takes a fair bit of time to pick up. It’s not that simple.” He should know. It was kick after kick, night after night, until he could do it right every time. His father was determined to make sure Adam could do it in his sleep if need-be and after months of trying, he’d succeeded.
“Please. We need help. You know we do. I’ll mow your mom’s lawn, clean out the front of the shop for you if you help us.”
“I’m not here for long. Only until my father recovers from surgery.”
Taking that as an agreement he would help them, the boys ran forward and all started talking at once. Adam held up his hand, overwhelmed with the chatter of teenage boys. When he had silence, he spoke. “Tell Coach Miller that if he wants my help, I’m more than willing to give you guys a coaching session but it won’t be anything more than that, alright? One session.”
One of the other boys sidled closer. “Coach was talking to us about getting you and some of your friends down for a coaching clinic. Reckons that it might do us the world of good and it would be a good deed for your team.”
Adam looked
