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Authors: Jennifer Lavoie

BOOK: Andy Squared
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Ryder laughed and shook his head. “Nah, those don't count. You should come over one time. I'll take you riding for real.”

“I'd probably fall off.”

“And you live in the countryside?”

“I never claimed to be a farmer.”

Ryder looked at him and Andrew felt like he was being inspected. He shifted uneasily after a few moments of silence. “No, I guess you didn't,” Ryder finally said. He turned back to Cobalt and scratched behind an ear. Even though his eyes were no longer on him, Andrew still felt like squirming.

“Do you do a lot of work around here?”

“Yeah. I don't mind, though. Not since they let me bring Cobalt up. Same stuff I did back home: mucking out stalls, feeding, watering. Giving them exercise.” He looked over at Andrew, eyes bright with excitement. “I can't wait to go riding in the snow.”

“What's so special about that?” Andrew stepped closer and put his hand out to let the horse sniff it.

“Oh come on! Think about it. Nothing but a white landscape all around you, sparkling in the sun. Or at night. In the moonlight.”

“Wow, you sound like someone out of a romance novel,” Andrew teased. “You'll get along great with Andrea and Sarah.”

Ryder shrugged and eyed him. “Maybe I am romantic.”

Andrew waited a few moments before saying, “Hey, I have a soccer game next Saturday. It's at the school. You should come to it.”

“I don't really know much about the sport, though,” Ryder said, tilting his head to the side.

“That's fine. It's the last game before the season ends.”

“Maybe I'll go just to watch you,” Ryder said. His eyes were intense and darker in the dim light of the barn. Andrew suppressed a shiver and crossed his arms over his chest when his heart skipped a beat.
I'm definitely catching something. I better not get too sick before the game
or Coach will kill me.

“That's cool. We need all the support we can get. It's going to be a good game. The last one is always the most exciting. And there's nothing to lose.”

“You said earlier you weren't going to go to the finals, though, right?”

“Yeah. The team we're playing against is tough. They're our rival school over in Hanson. Last year we beat them and went to finals, but their record is much better than ours this year. But we'll still try like hell.” He paused before adding, “I won't make winning easy for them.”

Ryder leaned up against the stall door. “I'm sure you won't.”

Chapter Four

Saturday came and Andrew woke up early to get ready for the game. It was scheduled to start at ten, but he had to be there by eight for warm-ups. He looked out the window over Andrea's bed as he grabbed his track pants and saw that the sky had cleared and no trace remained of the little snow that had been left the night before on the ground. It was a beautiful day to play.

He showered quickly and dressed, then joined his parents downstairs.

“The paper is saying Hanson's the favorite to win,” his father said from behind the paper. Andrew shrugged and tied the laces of his sneakers.

“Maybe so, but we'll give them hell.”

“I wish we had a shot at going to state,” Andrea complained while pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “But they already beat us this year and the girls' record is flawless; we've lost seven games. We lost too many seniors at the end of last season. It sucks.”

“Plus some of the girls didn't come back to play this year, either,” Andrew said.

“And Megan had to quit halfway through because of her grades.”

“See why I keep on you about your homework?” their mother asked from the other room. “If I didn't, you'd be in the same situation.”

Andrea just rolled her eyes and nudged her brother. The two of them got up to collect the rest of their gear. “We've gotta leave soon, Dad.”

“That's fine. Your mother and I will meet you at the school before the game starts. Yours is at two, right, Andrea?”

“Right.”

Andrew started the truck ten minutes later and headed for the school grounds.

“The other day when you were talking to Ryder, were you serious about not playing soccer in college?” Andrea asked, leaning back against the door of the truck so that she could face him.

“I've thought about it,” he replied hesitantly.

“Andy, we always said we'd play straight through!”

Andrew pressed his lips in a tight line and took a moment to answer. “I know. I just said I thought about it. It doesn't mean I won't.”

“You have to play. We have plans. You can't just go change them without talking to me about it first,” she argued.

“I'm sorry, okay? The next time something big comes up I'll talk to you about it.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “You never kept anything from me before. We're still picking a school together, right? Or did you change your mind about that, too?”

Andrew nodded. “Of course not. We pick together.”

Only a few cars were in the parking lot when they arrived, and Andrew parked next to Charlie, who waited for them in his car.

“Great day to play!” Charlie called as they all climbed out. “It's so warm compared to last week. Thank God.”

“Yeah, right? We lucked out,” Andrea agreed.

Members of the team were already gathering down at the field and stretching out. Andrea parted from them to join the girls, most of whom came early to support the boys' team.

Andrew and Charlie found an open spot and helped each other warm up. Andrew sat on the ground and leaned forward, and Charlie pushed against his back, then they switched positions. Their coach showed up a short time later, and soon after, the other team arrived at the field to do their own warm-ups.

Parents and students arrived half an hour before the game. There were two sets of bleachers on one side of the field, and they quickly filled. Andrew turned to see his parents in the top row. Charlie's parents sat right below them and a few seats over Andrew saw another familiar face. He waved at Ryder, who saw him and waved back. The coach called the team into a huddle, and Andrew jogged over to join the group.

“This is it, guys,” Coach Matthews said, his face trying to look serious but barely managing it. “Last game of the season. Hanson is going to be tough, but let's show them we won't go down without a fight. We can do this, right?”

The team yelled their agreement and cheered.

“All right, let's show them what we're made of! Keep your focus and go for it! Keep control of the ball and keep it on their side of the field. Don't give them the opportunity to take a shot at our goal. Nielsen, focus on that ball and do not let it pass you.”

The keeper nodded. “Got it, Coach.”

The referee called Pete Williams, the captain of Andrew's team, forward with Hanson's captain. The two stood facing each other while the man tossed the coin and let it fall to the ground. He called out and gestured to the other side of the field as Pete jogged back to them.

“Hanson won the kickoff.”

Coach Matthews nodded. “All right, let's get out there and play!”

The teams met on the field and everyone took their places at least ten yards back from the center circle where the ball would be kicked. From his place on the field, Andrew glanced up quickly, surprised to see his dad and Ryder sitting together. He turned his attention back to the game, narrowing his focus to the opposition and his teammates.

Hanson's forward charged the ball and let it sail with a solid kick. Andrew turned to watch as Charlie jumped up; the ball collided with his chest and dropped to the ground, where he sent it flying in Andrew's direction.

Andrew took possession of the ball and dribbled down the field, focused on the goal at the other end, but aware of his teammates moving up the field with him. He heard someone yell, “Andy! Man on!” from behind him, and quickly passed the ball to Pete.

The captain feinted to the left when an opponent ran at him, but the play failed. The player with Hanson's maroon and white jersey slid on the ground and kicked the ball away from Pete. His teammate just behind him took possession of the ball and they raced back for the other side of the field.

Andrew did his best not to swear in frustration and ran after them to avoid being called offside. As the ball reached their goal, Nielsen stepped forward and saved it, scooping the ball with his hands and sending it flying back to the other side of the field.

Nice save
, Andrew thought, giving a thumbs-up to the keeper as he ran back down the other side of the field.

The first twenty minutes of the first half passed without a single score. Andrew was switched off the field, and he sat and drank some water while watching his teammates play. He cheered them on and yelled whenever Hanson took the ball. The other team scored the first goal, and by the end of the first half, the score stood at 1–0.

Andrew got off the bench and moved into the huddle with his team during the fifteen-minute break between halves, but movement caught his attention. He turned as his coach started talking about strategy and saw Ryder waving. He grinned and gave him a small wave, and then stopped.

What am I doing? I need to be focused on Coach, not waving at Ryder like an idiot.

He turned back to listen and tried to keep his thoughts on the game and far from the green-eyed Texan sitting in the stands. Why he entered his thoughts at a time like this Andrew had no idea.

The second period flew by, and Andrew was put on the field again in the last fifteen minutes. He quickly scored a goal by dragging his right foot across and cutting back with his left. The move got him past the other side's defense and he took the shot. The ball sailed right into the open net, and he ran back to his cheering teammates. The score remained tied until the last five minutes, when one of Hanson's forwards snuck the ball past Nielsen and scored a goal. Andrew and his teammate Michael tried to even the score and raced across the field, but the clock ran down before they could make it and the game ended.

Loud cheers came from Hanson's side, and disappointment crushed Andrew.
So damn close
. The way the game had been going, he had been sure they were going to win. He joined the rest of the team on the field to shake hands with their rivals. Coach Matthews was as deflated as they were, but he congratulated the team on playing a great game.

“It has been a privilege to work with you this year. Seniors, this may have been your last year, but you gave it your best. I'm proud to have worked with you. For those of you playing in college, I better get invitations to some of your games!”

They laughed and slowly parted ways. Ryder came down from the stands and walked toward Andrew.

“That goal you made was amazing!”

“Not really,” Andrew said, shrugging. “The goalie screwed up; he left the net wide open. I had a free shot.”

“You're being modest,” Andrea said from behind him, a second before she jumped on his back. “You totally nailed that shot and you know it. Our early-morning practice really paid off.” She held on tight and Andrew reached back to support her weight and keep from being strangled. “Did you see who was watching the game?” she squealed with excitement in his ear.

“Kind of hard to do that when I was playing, Andy.”

“There were scouts! I'm sure of it! I think there were four or five of them sitting in the stands. They were watching you!”

“Oh come on. Are you sure they were scouts?”

“Who else wears suits to a soccer game?”

“Parents just getting out of work?” he asked.

She flicked his ear and slid off his back. “On a Saturday morning? You're more of an idiot than I thought.”

“Fine, but I'm sure they were looking at Hanson's captain. Or Pete.”

“Again with the modesty. Cut the crap. They were watching you. Just wait. You'll have offers. We both will. Hey, Ryder,” she called as she jogged backward to her teammates. “Are you sticking around to watch my game? Andrew always does, for support.”

Ryder glanced at Andrew. “I don't see why not. Your father got me caught up with the terms and such. Are you a forward too, Andrea?”

She nodded. “Yup. But I play midfield too, like Charlie, if one of the girls is out.”

“That's pretty cool.”

“She could also play as the keeper; she's good enough.”

“But—”

“But,” Andrew glanced at Ryder and cut off her protest. “But she likes taking the glory, and you don't get that from standing there and saving shots.”

Andrew joined his parent in the bleachers. Ryder moved up and sat with them, apologizing to those around him as he squeezed in close to Andrew.

Throughout the girls' game, the boys cheered them on while Andrew told Ryder more about the game, and pointed out the different students. The final score was 3–1, with Andrea having missed her shot. She stalked off the field, anger pouring off her in waves.

On the ride home, Andrea fumed, which both Ryder and Andrew had to endure. She sat between them and every so often let out a frustrated growl low in her throat. Andrew watched Ryder try to keep from bursting out with a laugh, but he finally couldn't help himself.

“Don't laugh!” Andrea said.

“I'm sorry! You sound so funny!” He dodged her flying hand, but he could only get so far from her reach. Andrew wisely kept a laugh to himself and concentrated on driving.

“I missed an easy shot! That is not funny!”

“Well, you would have lost the game anyway, right?”

“That's not the point! They beat us by two whole points! It would have been a lot closer if mine had gone in,” Andrea argued.

“But,” Ryder replied, “if you had gotten yours in, you would have been pissed that you only missed by one point. Right?”

Andrea grudgingly agreed that he was right, but either way the game had still been a loss.
I'm going to have to deal with this attitude all day
, Andrew thought as he turned onto their road.
If she keeps me up all night complaining I'll dump her makeup in the trash.

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