Page 40 of One Last Summer
“The plan is all defense with teams this small,” I said matter-of-factly as that familiar competitive fire sizzled up deep inside me, the one that lived for challenges like this. The adrenaline felt like an old friend, sparking up a fire I’d not lit in such a long time.
“Uh, no.” Mack gave me a skeptical once-over with a shake of his head. “Nick hates running, so he’ll probably be guarding the flag. We should charge them. Rush the field, go deep and be aggressive. Linus, you look like you’ve got a pep to your step.”
Mack gave Linus another confidence-boosting thump on the back, and I rolled my eyes at his bro energy. Mack could charm a rock.
“I ran Division Three cross-country in college,” Linus replied, his chest puffing up just a bit.
“Perfect. We all charge the front line, then.” Mack said this like it was a done deal, and irritation prickled through my body. “We win with chaos. Whoever gets to the flag first grabs it and rushes back to home base.”
Linus nodded, squinting in thought as he listened.
“Or,” I interjected, my voice clipped, “Linus could be defending our flag. I can guard the middle of the field, and you help with defense. If he’s fast, he’ll tag anyone who gets close and we can lock them all up in our jail. And then we all run to their side at once, grab the flag, and win.”
“That’s playing scared, Millen,” Mack said, pushing his scratched Wayfarers up on his forehead to narrow his eyes at me.
“Or it’s playing strategically and smart.” I folded my arms in front of my chest, holding my ground. “Chaos isn’t a strategy.”
“It’s been a few years for you, Millen. I don’t think you remember how this game works.” He broke out into a smile as he watched me get more frustrated. “But I just coached the juniors to victory this very summer.”
“Are you seriously about to mansplain a children’s game to me, Mack?” I asked, taking a step closer to him.
Mack let out a choked laugh, shaking his head. “I’d never dream of it.”
“That’s definitely what it sounds like,” I pushed.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mack’s eyes sparkled. He was clearly relishing this.
Linus looked between the two of us, confused. “Wait, so which plan are we—”
“Fine.” Mack threw his hands up, still smiling. “Let’s try it your way, Millen. Linus, just do what she says. Defense it is.”
“Glad you’re finally catching on,” I said, offering him the most obnoxiously pleasant smile I could muster. “Linus—guard the flag at the end of the field. Mack and I will defend the front line. We want to draw them into our territory, tag ’em, and then make a run for their flag while they’re tied up in jail.”
“Whatever you say, Millen. Do you think you can play nice today?” Mack asked, sliding his sunglasses down his face. His stubble was even more pronounced, and he ran a hand across his jaw, my eyes following, admiring the strong lines of his neck, the tiny dimple in his chin that seemed to disappear whenever he smiled or let out a laugh.
“That depends on how much of an asshole you are,” I replied.
“Millen—” Mack said, but Sam’s referee whistle cut through our tension, and he swallowed whatever comeback was lingering on his lips. I waved him and Linus to their places on the field, more confident than I’d felt in a long time.
Sam’s whistle ripped through the air again, and Eloise dashed onto our side of the field instantly, braid shooting behind her like a comet. Mack and I both raced right at her, but she pivoted on her feet, still youthfully athletic, and rushed directly back to the safety of her team’s territory. It was all the time Trey needed to bolt past me, a flash of red tank top and tattoos.
“Crap!” I yelled, trying to keep an eye on him as Eloise taunted us by jogging right toward us again, hopping onto our side of the field with a leap. Our plan—my plan—was already starting to crack.
“Mack!” I yelled as I bolted away from her this time. “I’m going for the flag!”
“I thought we were playing D?” he hollered back as he trailed Eloise, who was zigzagging back and forth over the dividing line with a ferocious look of glee on her face.
“Change of plans!” I shouted, my brain making a panicked, split-second decision. “You hold the line!”
He snapped something back at me, but I was too far away to hear, sprinting down the far side of the field inside enemy territory. Trey was already lurking dangerously close to where Linus was defending our flag, and Eloise was surely near him, with Mack on her tail. The only person I had to worry about here was Nick, who was pacing back and forth from his position guarding the flag just to the left of the goal, his eyes trained on me.
My body moved like it had just played the game yesterday, even though it had been years, a decade possibly. Hell, I hadn’t even worked out in months. The sneakers on my feet had been collecting dust in my apartment’s one tiny closet. But in this moment I was electric, unstoppable.
I slowed to a jog, moving along the edge of the field to the right of Nick’s peripheral vision. He’d somehow stopped focusing on me and was instead running up the field away from their flag, gesturing frantically to someone in front of him. It was such a novice move—to leave their flag completely unprotected—that I let out a quiet chuckle under my breath. Poor sweet Nick. I was seriously about to steal this flag out from under his nose.
With a grunt, I launched my body forward, cutting across the field until I was just a few feet away from the green team flag. A win was just inches away from me, and the euphoria of it was coursing through my veins.
It felt fucking amazing.
