“Shut up and kick.” I waved him on, ready to get this over with.

“Your wish is my command, my bride.” He then blew me a kiss.

I only just barely managed to deflect the ball a half-inch with the tips of my fingers when he nailed it. His team was screaming from the sidelines while Eli and Gordo hollered at me for missing. Dickwads.

Freddy on our team went next and managed to score. Nerves stirred my stomach, but I pushed them aside and focused on what I needed to do as I walked back to the goal.

Next on the opposing team was Julian, who didn’t talk any shit and simply went for the shot. The ball went up high and I was too short to reach it.

“Goddamnit! Why aren’t you taller?” Eli’s bellow came out at the same time I yelled in frustration with myself.

Miles, on my team, went last and scored.

Carter came up behind me and squeezed my shoulder. “Gaby, I won’t be mad at you if we lose.”

I patted his hand and smiled sadly. “Thanks, remember you said that later on, okay?”

The last player to kick was…

Sacha.

He smiled over at me as he took a dozen steps away from the ball and got into position. “You ready to lose?”

I crossed my eyes and nodded. “Bring it on, Sassy Pants.”

He raised an eyebrow before smiling huge. “You said it,” he replied, getting into position.

Sacha’s goal: getting the soccer ball into the goal.

The ball's goal: breaking my damn face.

It wasn't really Sacha’s fault the ball curved at the last minute and that my hands were in the air when the ball got intimate with my chin.

I'd never gotten into a real fight before, and I suddenly realized why. Getting hit in the face was… not cool. At. All. I know for a fact I squealed, grabbed my chin with both hands and possibly wailed, "Why would you do that to me?" before collapsing to my knees on the ground.

Sacha—as I quickly learned—was a jackass. I could hear him laughing as he ran up to me, getting down on his knees somewhere close by. The hysterical laughs coming from my brother and his friends were background noise I couldn’t ignore.

"Gaby, oh my God, I'm so fucking sorry!" Sacha’s unmistakable voice was at my ear, both horrified and amused at the same time somehow. "Are you okay?" A hand landed on top of mine and another clasped the back of my head.

"No!" It was the truth.

My face.

My face was broken.

He had the nerve to laugh harder, wiggling closer so that his bare, dirty knees pressed against my own bare, dirty knees. "I'm so sorry."

Him practically giggling didn’t make his apology totally believable.

I'm not sure how long we sat there, me squeezing my eyes closed with my chin between my hands, Sacha holding my hands in one of his and the back of my head with his other. It took everything in me not to cry because seriously, my chin was throbbing so bad my brain hurt. Even my teeth felt rattled. When the urge to cry finally managed to pass, I blinked up to see those translucent eyes peering at me in concern. Isaiah, Carter and Gordo were standing behind the man who had just kicked a ball at my face, visibly worried.

"Let me see," Sacha said gently, prying my hand away one digit at a time. Once he prodded with his fingers and made me wince, he let his hand fall to his lap.

“Are you all right?” Carter asked, palms cupping his knees, his face pink and distressed.

I nodded over at him, still holding my face and telling myself grown women didn’t cry from humiliation.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded again.

He didn’t look convinced. “I’ll go grab you some ice, okay?”