(15) Goals

The warm sun beats down on my hands and face as I undo my ponytail and rearrange my hair into a tight, messy bun. My forehead is covered in a hundred beads of sweat and my t-shirt sticks to me like glue. After pulling the cotton fabric away from my back so I can breath a little, and adjusting my lacrosse shorts so they don't cling to my legs, I tighten my grip around my field hockey stick to focus my attention on Britney. Bringing my stick back with concentration, I smash it into the white ball lying on the grass.

Satisfied, I watch it fly across the field to her stick. Without even allowing the ball to stop against the side of her stick, she makes direct contact with it and I watch it zoom past me in a blur. It keeps on flying and soon heads straight for the bottom of the hill where the boys JV football team is walking down to their field in all their pads at the other end of the parking lot.

"Britney, go get it." I sigh.

"You go get it, Daria, it isn't my fault that you can't stop such a powerful shot!" She puts her hands on the hips of her bright orange Patagonia shorts and squints at me through the sunshine. I sigh again and slowly walk towards the parade of boys to retrieve my ball where it is slowly rolling all the way down the hill. As I approach the end of the hill, I am relieved to see
Cameron walking with a crowd of juniors.

"Hey, Daria!" He adjusts the piece of equipment he's carrying to his other shoulder.

"Hey." I walk with him for a few seconds and head down the hill.

“Britney sent our ball flying over here. I wish she would remember to just stop the ball before she sends it back!”

Cameron laughs. “It’s not her fault you can’t play field hockey.”

“HEY!” I punch him in the arm and give him a smile.

“GUYS!” Someone grab Daria’s ball, it’s by the wall over there!” Cameron shouts to his teammates. I watch the guys stop and look at each other in the shade. Jeff waits for someone else to pick it up, but no one does.

“Thanks a lot guys!” I laugh. For a few more seconds, the football players tell each other to go get it and no one does. Then, Jeff Waters sighs and drops the bright blue bag of jerseys he’s carrying and runs over to the wall. I am regretting more than ever that I gave in and ran over to get it myself. Now Jeff has to go get it for me! It is not as if I don’t have a pair of working legs, why didn’t I just get it myself? I wonder why everything with him has to continue to be so awkward. Scenes of the first day of school when we had walked and sat together at lunch flood through my mind. My face definitely must be three shades of darker red as she comes over and without really looking at my face, hands me the ball. I cannot help but enjoy the warmth that shoots through my body when I touch his hand and I curl my fingers around that ball.
Suddenly the familiar piercing whistle coming from the coach fills the air as I watch Jeff trudge with the other guys down the rest of the field. I turn around and run towards the growing crowd of girls around our coach. Leaning on my stick, I listen to her talk about the previous day's game. None of us really want to hear what she has to say. Yesterday we had our first game of the season and had painfully lost to Wilton.

"Girls! I realized by watching you almost faint on that field that I obviously did not prepare you well enough for game time! Today let's concentrate on running hard and well. I think we'll start with three miles around the track. You girls have GOT to realize that you aren't freshmen anymore. Field hockey might have been just fun and games in the past years, but now it's going to he more work and determination! Now let's see some GOALS next game! Did you girls already take a warm up lap?"
We all nod weakly.

"Good! Let’s stretch!" As I sit down angrily on the grass, I let what the coach has just bellowed to us sink in. I don't want to agree with her, but it is true. I have to realize that she's right. This year is going to be a lot different than freshman year. I pull my right leg in and stretch my arm to hold onto the opposite foot and continue thinking to myself. My stick work definitely is a little rusty this year. I definitely am not in shape. I am going to have to force myself to work hard, practice, study, and succeed scholastically and athletically. I am going to find that life really isn't all fun and that I can't waste so much time. Soon I am going to start driving and perhaps I'll be getting a job. I can't mess up this time. I am going to have to learn responsibility and with that, I need to learn how to make goals !

After being fully stretched, I run down the field to my sports bag and change out of my cleats and into my sneakers. Tying the black laces into a tight knot, I get up and run towards the track with a newfound burst of passion for the sport I have played since seventh grade. This year I am really going to hit one in there, and hit it hard!
I sprint down the hill, determination running through my body like blood. My body is as light as a feather, but solid as rock. I am heading for the Startup line of life this year, and this time I am going to definitely win this game.