Offside (5 page)

A

fter dinner, Faith sat in front of her laptop at her desk. Feeling like she'd studied enough for her health quiz, she decided to focus on her nutrition paper. She had to compare five unhealthy snacks with five healthy alternatives. She'd already come up with the foods. Now she had to explain the differences. She'd just typed, “Potato chips are high in oil, calories, and salt,” when Vijay walked in and tugged on her sleeve.

“Antim is sick.”

“I know he's sick,” Faith said. “He has a cold.” Antim had stayed home from kindergarten with Mom that day, which meant Mom had gotten even less sleep than usual. She'd gone to bed the second Faith walked through the door.

“Come and see.” He tugged on her sleeve again.

Faith sighed before clicking Save and following Vijay to his room. All Antim's covers were thrown off. He squirmed on the bed and mumbled. She felt his forehead. It was way too hot.

“Oh, Antim.” She hated to wake her mom, but she had to.

He had a temperature of 103. Faith helped her mom give him Tylenol, popsicles, and a lukewarm bath.

Soon the brother's dino clock reached nine thirty and Mom prepared to leave for work. “Are you sure you'll be okay alone?” she asked.

“I've done this before, remember?” Faith said, more grumpily than she should have.

“Well. Call me if his fever rises. And make sure he drinks plenty of water.”

“Okay. Bye, Mom.” Faith closed the door behind her.

These were the times Faith hated most. She loved her brothers and sister, but not the responsibility of caring for them. As she walked back to Antim's room, she imagined leaving home again and only being responsible for herself. Coach Berg had seemed to get it when he'd said kids were a handful. Had he also taken care of younger siblings? Was he the oldest in his family?

Between checking on Antim and keeping Vijay from worrying too much, Faith didn't get much done on her report. At this rate, she'd never improve her grades.

By eleven thirty, Antim was sleeping quietly and his fever hadn't risen any higher. She'd check on him again in a few hours. In the meantime, she decided it was safe to go to bed.

But instead of sleeping, Faith lay on her back, completely awake. She'd started thinking about Coach Berg again and why he was being so nice to her. About what she'd wondered in the equipment shed: could he … like her? Not as her coach, but in a different way. A
romantic
way.

Faith's cheeks heated up again and she rolled onto her side, digging her fingernails into her palms. The idea was so embarrassing. It was stupid. He was her teacher. He was twenty years older. He was probably even married. Faith couldn't remember—did he wear a ring?

But he'd been smiling and looking at her with such warmth and kindness. She'd never seen him look at other players that way. And he'd defended her against Caitlyn. He
did
treat her differently. He talked to her like he understood her, like she was more than just a student or a soccer player. And he was going out of his way to train her for a new position.

Turning onto her back again, Faith listened to Hamsa's faint snoring across the room. Was it possible?

No. Of course not. She tried to push the thought out of her head.

But as Faith neared sleep, she recalled the faint scent of his cologne in the equipment shed earlier and the touch of his fingers when he took the ball bag. She sighed happily in spite of herself.

 . . .

“Astha. Wake up.”

Faith awoke to her mom's gentle shaking. She bolted upright. “What? Is it Antim?”

“No. He's better. You slept through your alarm. I thought you might need the sleep.” Her mom stroked Faith's cheek and left.

Sun streamed through Faith's window. She looked at her clock. School started in half an hour. So much for practicing soccer before class or trying to finish homework. She rushed through her shower and breakfast and ran out the door.

Faith barely had time to open her locker before English class started. As she grabbed her textbook, a folded piece of paper fell onto the floor. She picked it up and carried it to class.

Faith landed in her seat just as the bell rang. Mrs. Delsanto began lecturing about the Shakespearean sonnets they were supposed to have read last night. Faith lowered her eyes, hoping she wouldn't get called on to answer a question. The piece of paper was still in her hand. She unfolded it.

The classroom seemed to shrink as she focused on the page. It was a printed-out photo of her and Coach Berg in the equipment shed. It was the moment she'd handed him the mesh bag of balls. They were staring at each other, smiling, their fingers touching. Their faces were so close together, it looked like they were about to kiss.

Faith heard a snicker and quickly folded the page, shoving it into her notebook.

“Is that you?” Jeremy Nyquist whispered over her shoulder. “Who are you with?”

“No one!” she hissed, grateful he hadn't recognized Coach Berg. She wanted to cry. No, she wanted to die. Caitlyn must have taken the photo. That's why Faith had seen her running under the bleachers the day before.

Faith's heart sank. Who else knew about this?

Moving slowly so she didn't attract Mrs. Delsanto's attention, she pulled her backpack onto her lap. She turned on her phone inside the backpack, hoping to muffle the sound. There was a message waiting, from
caitlove
:

Hey, pet! Enjoying your special treatment? <3 <3 <3

“Faith!” Mrs. Delsanto glared at her. “No phones in class!”

Faith turned it off and dropped her backpack on the floor. Had Olivia seen the picture too? Addie?

The entire team?

A

s she sat through English, all Faith could think about was confronting Caitlyn. But they didn't have any classes together. The only time Faith might get her alone would be before or after the game that night. But first, Faith had to get through the rest of this horrible day.

As she walked out of English class, it crossed her mind to skip school altogether. But her mom was home. Faith could fake being sick, but that was hard to pull off with a nurse for a mom.

Faith slunk late into every class, right after the bell rang. Keeping her head down, she listened for the snickers and taunts that would tell her if the photo had gone viral at school. To her relief, no one treated her any differently. In other words, they didn't notice her at all.

At lunch, Faith sat at her favorite spot under some trees on the far side of campus. Pulling her backpack onto her lap, she pulled out a PowerBar from the stash she always kept. She also took out the photo. She'd considered tearing it up at least fifty times since her English class. It would be a disaster if it got into anyone else's hands. Both she and Coach Berg would be in huge trouble if school administrators thought something was really going on. He might even lose his job.

She unfolded the sheet of paper.

The image gave her a humiliated, sick feeling. But it also sent a tingle straight to her toes. While she'd been trying to convince herself that Coach Berg's behavior was just teacherly interest, Caitlyn's photo told a different story. Coach looked down at her tenderly, his eyes sparkling. She could still feel their fingers touching. Maybe he'd
chosen
to touch her. Just as he'd
chosen
to hand her the bag in the first place.

Faith shook her head. She didn't know what to believe. As she gently folded the page and returned it to her backpack, she wondered again if Coach had seen it. If he had, what did he think? How would he react when he saw her in class today? Faith's emotions ranged from disgust to jittery anticipation. Since fifth period was right after lunch, she didn't have long to wait.

In the restroom, Faith brushed her hair and applied colored lip gloss, something she didn't normally do. She shook her head as she stared at her reflection. What was she doing? Trying to impress him? She wiped her mouth clean again and strode into health class just as the bell rang.

Coach Berg's eyes briefly met Faith's when he took attendance, but that was it. She took a deep breath. If he'd seen the photo, he would have given her a more meaningful look, she was sure of it. And, as in her morning classes, she didn't notice students peering at her or whispering behind her back.

Clearly, Caitlyn hadn't shared the photo with anyone else. Again, Faith wondered what Caitlyn was up to. Was there something she wanted? Would she use the photo as blackmail? Was she waiting for some perfect moment to ruin Faith's life?

Worrying about Caitlyn soon gave way to thinking about Coach Berg. Faith couldn't help it. Striding back and forth in front of the class, he was so tall and confident. He was the handsome tiger she'd pictured the other day. Try as she might, Faith couldn't look away. She blushed and sighed. She'd never noticed how attractive he was.

As class drew to a close, Faith knew her thoughts were raging out of control. She knew it was wrong, but she started imagining being with him—with Alan. His first name was Alan, wasn't it? She silently laughed at the idea of calling him anything but Coach Berg.

Alan Berg
. She wrote his name in her notebook. Then she wrote it again and again.

Alan Berg

Alan Berg

Alan Berg

The bell rang. Faith quickly closed her notebook so no one would see what she'd written. She drew in a breath, suddenly aware how crazy it would look.

What was wrong with her? How could she think about Coach Berg this way? She
was
crazy!

Faith pressed her forehead against her hands and closed her eyes. Her noisy, chattering classmates spiraled around her, sending her stomach twirling. She thought she might cry or throw up. Or both.

“Patel?”

She raised her eyes.

Coach Berg sat at his desk. Everyone else had left.

“You look a little green around the gills,” he said. “You okay?”

She lowered her hands and nodded.

“Good. Can we expect you at tonight's match? I want Coach Simmons to have a full crew.”

Faith's heart sank. She'd forgotten he wasn't coaching tonight's game. She strained not to show her disappointment.

“I'll make it,” she said, beaming.

He paused, still looking at her. “How's the situation at home? Finding time to get your homework done?”

She had the urge to rush behind his desk and hug him. “Kinda.”

“Great. So … you'll have your nutrition paper turned in next week?”

She nodded.

“Have a good game this afternoon.” He lowered his eyes.

Moving slowly, Faith rose and lifted her backpack. She stopped in front of his desk.

He looked up.

“I, uh, was just wondering.” She reached out and touched a pen in his pencil cup. “I was wondering about the name of your cologne?”

His eyes widened a little.

“I need to buy a gift for someone. A guy. A guy friend. And I noticed yours when we were in the equipment shed. It smelled nice.”

“Um, I'm not sure. It's something my wife buys for me.”

His wife. Oh. Faith lowered her head but stayed rooted to the floor.

“Don't you have a class to go to?” he asked.

She nodded. “See you later.” She waved and trotted out the classroom.

In the hallway, just outside the door, Faith leaned against the wall and knocked her fist against her forehead.
What is wrong with me?
she wondered. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and walked toward math.

She was crushing on her teacher-slash-soccer coach. It didn't get much lamer than that.

W

hether having a crush on Coach Berg was lame or not, Faith ran home after school feeling focused. She wanted to work a little more on her nutrition paper before she left for soccer.

Her mom stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes, her shoulders rounded. She looked up when Faith walked in. “Can you finish these?”