Where was he? He said he was going to be here.
I walked over to a bench on the sideline searching for my water.
Popping off the cap, I chug down the water, whipping my mouth off with my shirt.
My head whiplashes as something hard slams against the back of my neck.
Oh, please.
“Roger Tull. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Cole steps up to me.
“Five hundred bucks and a lollipop,” I spit at Cole’s feet.
“I’d watch what you do.” Cole bends down to pick up his ball that had just been thrown at my head. “I could beat you up in a second.”
“Like to see you try.” I drop my water bottle to the ground.
“Gladly.” Cole drops his ball back to the ground and starts to run at me.
Someone suddenly steps between us, shoving Cole back.
“You sure you want to do that?” Logan questions.
“Stay out of this, Logan!” Cole straightens himself.
“Don’t go into it. Seriously, just leave us alone,” Logan calmly tells him.
Cole gives me a threatening glare, then picks up his ball and walks out to the other end of the field.
“You’re late,” I tell Logan.
He sighs.
“How’d you get him to obey you like that?” I ask him.
“I beat ‘em up a couple of weeks ago.”
“You beat up Cole?” I stare at Logan. “Good for you.”
“I need your help.” He looks at me.
“Ok. Sure.”
“I met these boys. And they really want to learn how to play soccer. Except there is a lot of them. I can’t teach them by myself,” Logan explains.
“Ok. So, we just teach a bunch of boys how to hit the round thing between the sticks.”
“Pretty much.” I shrug.
I nod. “All right. Where are we going?” I bend down to pick up my water bottle and soccer bag.
Logan turns and leads the way off the field to the parking lot. “I met them at an orphanage about five minutes from her.
I freeze in my step. “An orphanage?”
Logan looks back at me. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “Nah. It’s cool.”
“Great. Then let’s go!’ Logan walks back to his car.
What did I just sign up for?
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I shut the car door while scanning the boys.
Logan was right. There were a lot of them.
“I have returned,” Logan announces. “And I have brought reinforcements.”
I follow Logan up to the porch, where a lady was sitting with a girl playing dolls at her feet.
“Roger, this is Miss Paula. Miss Paula, this is Roger,” Logan introduces us. “He is a friend of mine who also plays soccer.”
“Thank you for helping out.” The lady speaks in a strong accent.
“Of course.” I shrug.
Logan walks over to the boys. “So, you want to split them up into younger and older groups?”
“Sure.” I step forward. “Older boys are with me. All boys over ten follow me!”
“Oh, come on!” Logan retorts.
I toss him a smile over my shoulder then turn to address the boys.
“Ok. Form a circle around me.” The boys do as they are told. “Can everyone give me their names?” They go around the circle, one by one, giving their names. I try hard to remember the names with the faces.
“So how much do you guys know about soccer?” I ask once they are finished.
“We know you can’t touch it with your hands!” a boy who said his name was Jared answers me.
“Unless you’re the goalie!” a boy named Colton cuts him off.
“And you use the side of your foot to aim for a pass!” The boys start to say things they learned, talking over each other.
“Ok! Ok! Calm down. Looks like you guys know the basic rules, so let’s learn the best way to score a goal.”
For the rest couple of hours, I teach the boys how to score a goal, how to work as defense, and how to best be a goalie.
“Lunch is ready!” Miss Paula breaks us off from our goalie lessons. “Sandwiches and fresh lemonade!”
She sets a tray down on a porch table as some of the girls bring out lemonade and start to pour some for the boys.
After grabbing a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, I sit down next to Logan.
“How are the older boys doing?” he asks me.
“Really well. Some of the boys are really good. How are the younger ones?”
Logan glances around and then leans in closer to me. “Some of them are crazy!”
I chuckle and take a bite of my sandwich.
A little girl sits down on the opposite side of Logan. She looks up at him with big eyes.
“Did you find someone to teach me how to write stories?”
“Uh,” Logan trails off. “Well, not yet. Maybe later.”
“Oh.” The girl looks sad and then pats Logan on the arm. “That is ok. I forgive you.” She stands up and runs back to the other girls.
“What?” Logan laughs.
We eat in silence for a while.
“Do you want to come over to my place later? My parents really want to meet you,” I tell him.
“Sure. I don’t have any plans.” Logan stands up. “Also,” he takes a deep breath, “the older boys are with me. Older boys! Out onto the lawn, now! Chop-chop!” Logan jumps off the porch and heads to pick up a ball with the boys following him.
“Not fair!” I yell after him then stand up. “Ok. The rest of you, follow me.”
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