Free Brightest Kind of Darkness by P. T. Michelle, Patrice Michelle Page A

the story and so much more.
    “What are you doing here?”
    “I thought you might like to practice with someone who isn’t trying to get you kicked off the team.” Ethan spun the ball, letting it roll up his right arm and across his chest, then back down the other arm where he caught it in his hands. “You up for a practice partner?” he asked as he dropped the ball, trapping it between his foot and ankle. Kicking the ball up over his head, he then leaned forward and caught it behind his neck, an expectant expression on his face.
    He looked mouthwatering in black athletic pants with white stripes down the sides and a royal blue long sleeved t-shirt. I was suddenly very conscious of my sweaty face, my hair pulled back in a quick ponytail. I was a mess, but his mere presence made me feel special despite the dirt stains on my knees. He definitely knew his way around a soccer ball. I hadn’t imagined the skill I’d seen that day in the hall. “Who’s going to teach me? You don’t play soccer,” I teased, waiting for him to tell me I was wrong.
    Shrugging his shoulder, he dropped the ball into his hands and straightened. “I used to play every season: indoor, outdoor, on a travel team. Even taught summer camp, but you’re right. I don’t play. Not anymore.”
    A look of regret flitted across his face. Ethan was always so controlled, the brief display of raw emotion threw me. Sometimes he seemed much older, like he’d been through a lot. I wanted to ask why he’d quit playing, but he turned and punted the soccer ball toward the goal, calling over his shoulder in an upbeat tone, “Come on, slow poke. We don’t have all night.”
    Grabbing my gloves, I followed him over to the goal. “Okay, let’s see your moves.”
    He gestured for me to get into position in front of the goal, then dropped the ball on the ground and set his cleat on top of it. “I watched you during some games. I could tell you were tense. Half the time your eyes weren’t on the ball.”
    I bristled and started to argue, but Ethan had no reason to lie to me. He was here to help, so I set my jaw and nodded while pulling on my gloves.
    As I readied myself for him to kick toward the goal, Ethan set his foot next to the ball. “It’s always important to watch the ball first, but don’t forget the player’s eyes, his hips, his shoulders…and if all else fails,” he paused and winked. “Psych him out! Watch my planted foot, Nara.” He set his foot down. “Where am I going to kick the ball?”
    “To my left.”
    “High or low?”
    “Won’t know until it leaves your foot.”
    “Look at my body.” He leaned back slightly. “I’m tilted back, so the ball will be high.” He kicked the ball to prove his point. I jumped, snagging the ball above my head, then tossed it to him.
    Dribbling the ball back and forth between his feet, he continued, “You’re on the tall side, so you’ll leave smaller angles (gaps) when you go after the ball. That gives you an advantage in covering the entire goal.”
    I wasn’t ready when he slammed the ball hard. I dove too late and it zoomed past me into the net. Retrieving the ball, I kicked it out to him since he’d moved further out into the field.
    Dribbling in a wide circle on the field, Ethan said, “Watch my planted foot and where I actually hit the ball with my kicking foot. The direction of my hips will tell you where the ball is going to go.”
    Everything Ethan was saying were skills I’d learned but never had to worry about using. Now that I focused on what he said, instead of worrying I’d miss every ball that came my way, my confidence began to build.
    This time he kicked the ball in one direction, but it curved back toward me. I dove, grabbing onto the ball before it went in the goal. “Except curve balls,” I said as I kicked the ball back to him.
    “Exactly, but you can watch the players throughout the game to see which ones have the talent to do curved shots with any kind of