Chapter Text
IKTAN Mᯓ★
The field was almost empty that day, pure golden light came down in stripes highlighting the entire grass. Practice ended about a while ago but never for me and him, sending shot after shot at the goal post at me acting like I had all the time in the world for his nonsense. “Okay okay, I promise this is the last one.” Nick called out laughing obnoxiously his blue ocean-like eyes set on fire on the ball.
2 YEARS AGO, OCTOBER 7TH 2023
I still remember that first afternoon of sixth-grade tryouts. My goalie gloves were two sizes too big and my legs jittered each time I crouched to defend a goal being made. Every-single-damn-time I fumbled every warm- up ball, letting it slip past my elbows with an embarrassingly loud thud. That’s when I noticed him grinning as he lifted me up to my feet, my classmate from English and pe grinning right at me. “Hey Iktan, here” he said, dropping beside me, he shoved me to tuck my elbows, driving with my legs, and watch where the ball follows. With his help about ten minutes later, I snagged the next shot cleanly tucking it deep into my chest, and the field suddenly felt like home.
PRESENT
I then ran back to position and arched my back slightly, my hands on my knees as I sweated. Drip, drip, drip, I shook my head clearly in disappointment and replied “That's what you said two shots ago!” as I panted and wiped the bead of sweat developing on my forehead getting ready into position my gloves damp and set for the ball. He then grinned “Yeah, but I mean it this time.” As enthusiastic as he sounded his smile dropped the second he set the ball in position his cleats dragging in the ever so tall weeds. Nick later took 2 steps back breathing in and out hesitation written all over his forehead and kicked the ball with full force towards the goal. Woosh, The ball quickly travelled to Nick, to me Iktan Martinez Garcia the best goalie that has ever played on John Muir Middle school, Sure Nick might outstand me in numerous things like appearance or grades but soccer? Please my foot, the ball travelled just like a soaring eagle which I was never intimidated by. I sighed as I then dove to the right as quick as the speed of light, the ball curving upwards then to the right, wham! As I catch the ball holding it tight against my chest for a brief moment before dropping it at my feet my anxiety washed all over me right at that moment. “Still got it,” I said, nudging the ball back toward him unsure of how to feel. He jogged up, winded and smiling “Always” he replied, catching the ball and dribbling it to his left then right, but his smile was softer than usual.
We’ve grown into our roles since sixth grade: he, the captain with the killer left foot & main striker and perfect markups; me, the typical quiet goalie who’d rather practice till my heart drops than chatting in class. But right now, under this late daylight, none of that truly mattered. He sets the ball again. I stayed crouched on the goal line, it truly was just us, no coach watching, no whistles, in the end it was just the two of us and this patch of turf. “Pioneers sending invites next week,” he said, voice low snapping me back into consciousness. I then nod, shifting my weight. “I heard.” as I hesitated my two simple words jumbling on top of each other. He then watched my hands twitch through my gloves. "You’ve started here Martinez.” he said, pointing at the grass also known as the field of JMMS, “You know that, right?” I then later shrugged, but I already knew that obviously. I’ve worked for it-every single drill, every early morning. And every single time I've busted my ass for this sport, Still hearing it from Nick felt different compared to any coach who told me news. Nick then lifted his chin up and noticed me pondering off to space, as quick reaction time I had I didn't hear him running to the back of me cranking down my neck and laughing in bright spirits until I felt a sound of laughter just genuine happiness brush against my ear. “ Man, what are you doing Nicholas.” As I sighed as I didn't budge I couldn't less if kids were screaming in my ear or if my mom was disappointed in how I behaved but this hit me too close to home especially since I knew why it did. Call me sensitive all you want but I fucking hate physical touch it bugged me more than anything. As I then covered my eyes, sighing heavily. Nick then let go of me and used his index finger to point at me, “It's you and me Iktan in this together mustangs huh?” as he then pointed to me then him and grinned all devilishly. He caught me off guard as I then responded quickly “Yup just you and me Nick.” reassuring him coping with his action pointing at myself then at him, Not him his heart. The idea then twisted my stomach into knots as silence fell between us, comfortable yet so very heavy. Until he ran back to his spot facing me drawing back for yet another shot. This time I stand flat- footed, arms loose, letting him surprise me. He strikes, I react then block. The ball dribbles away as we both inhale. I let go of a breath I didn't realize I’d been holding. 'No one kept score,’ I say softly with a smile, closing my eyes. He kicks the grass, his glasses flying up in the air at the movement, then looks back up with that familiar grin, “Not today.” We lingered and played around just like fools until the sunset faded off into everlasting darkness. Footprints engraved in our cleats mark the field. Soon, everything will change: new schools, new teams, rivals, But for now this moment is ours, and I wished I had just more time us #30 and #11 together one second at a time.