I dribbled the ball up the field as fast as I could, skilfully dodging opposing players as I went. Carefully blocking out the noise of the crowd, I focused on the goalie.

"Okay," I muttered to myself, "one more goal and we win."

I swung my leg back and just as I was about to shoot on goal, the ball was kicked out from under me. Unsurprisingly, I turned to see none other than Dakota Anderson dribbling the ball back up the field with a smirk on his face.

Of course it was him: the star player of Ridgemount Academy and my biggest rival since we played together in Little League as kids. I'd hated him for years, beginning with the time he tripped me intentionally so I'd face plant on the field during the first game we ever played together.

Seven-year old Dakota was a spoiled brat with an attitude problem. Eighteen-year old Dakota was a stuck-up, conceited jerk who needed a good old punch in the face.

I snarled and tore after Dakota to the midfield line. The ball was passed upfield toward Ridgemount's goal. Before they could score, Northshore's defenders closed in quickly and the ball was kicked away again. My eyes tracked its every movement across the pitch.

"Connor!" Trent, one of my best friends who played midfield, called as he approached with the ball.

My feet were moving before I'd even registered the thought. The faces of other players blurred around me as I focused on Trent, ready to take possession of the ball. In less than three seconds of attaining it, Dakota was by my side.

Having already swung my leg back to take another shot, I let out a painful yelp when Dakota's cleat struck my shin in effort to reclaim the ball. The power of the blow travelled through my shin guards to a throbbing ache beneath my skin.

It would've been a foul but Ridgemount had set themselves up in a way that obscured their Captain's actions from the referee's view. Milliseconds passed but it was enough time to seize the opportunity for a contemptible playout. Ridgemount's playing style was dirty and deceitful, endorsed by Dakota's smug look every time another one of their schemes was executed without repercussion. That stupid grin on his face was one of the many reasons I despised him.

The Ridgemount Captain was gone as quickly as he'd come. Dakota kicked the ball toward the midfield line and it was claimed in a flurry of red and black jerseys.

Northshore fought hard. Our defenders came in swinging but they weren't fast enough. Ridgemount was the stronger team and we hadn't had enough of a head start.

Our teams collided in a technicolour explosion of red and blue, fighting viciously to obtain the ball. Feet became entangled and the gameplay grew more savage as the final minutes counted down. I grinned when we regained possession a few times before slacking when we lost it again. Northshore's defence was quickly falling apart under the brutish attacks of Ridgemount's opposition.

In the end, it didn't come down to much. I watched helplessly as the ball was passed back and forth in a blur of fighting red and black. There were ten seconds left in the game when it was passed off to one of Ridgemount's strikers. A beat of silence ensued as the entire stadium held its breath.

4, 3, 2,

A neon green 1 flashed overhead when the ball sailed passed our goalie into the corner of the net.

A deafening cry of cheers and hollers erupted from the Ridgemount spectators in the stands. The score changed to reflect the win as celebratory music started to blare overhead. Students ran down the concrete steps and onto the field to celebrate the winning team.

Northshore cut their losses and made their way over to shake hands with the Ridgemount players. I was the only one left in the centre of the field as my team migrated to the side lines.

Knees shaking, I bent over to catch my breath. Sweat drenched the hair hanging over my eyes as I stared up at the scoreboard in disbelief.

Anger flared within me at the sight of flashing digits overhead in Ridgemount's favour. Part of me wanted to strangle our goalkeeper. All those hours spent coming up with new strategies over the summer and for what? Still, I knew this wasn't just our goalie's fault but I'd been so sure we'd have them this time.

A voice broke me out of my trance.

"What's the matter there, Taylor? Couldn't take the heat?" Dakota laughed from a few feet away. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand. "Never picked you for a sore loser."

"Shut up, Anderson!" I shot back. "I'm just trying to work out how something with literally zero brain cells was coordinated enough to make that shot!"

My team appeared at my side, drawn back to the field by Dakota's loud antagonism. They were close but left enough space for me to fight my own battles. And to watch the playout.

Dakota snorted at my retort. "Funny. I was wondering the same thing about you."

Trent and another teammate had to hold me back as I took a swing at Dakota. They pulled me away before my fist could collide with the bastard's cheek.

The Ridgemount Captain only laughed and took a casual step back. He offered nothing more than a smug look in my direction before turning away to celebrate with his team.

"Asshole." I sniped in his wake.

"Hey, hey," Trent told me as I struggled in his grip. Our team began to retreat off the field. "It's only the beginning of the season. We can still make up the loss."

I growled, shrugging Trent off me. "We shouldn't have lost in the first place."

"C'mon, man!" My other best friend, Scott, appeared, jumping on Trent's back and nearly knocking the taller boy off his feet as he exclaimed, "Even if we didn't win, Angela's hosting a party tonight. Free drinks and hot seniors, dude!"

"Not in the mood."

"Connor," Scott whined. "Don't deprive yourself the wonders of human interaction just because we got our asses handed to us today."

I flicked him an amused look. "The wonders of human interaction? You taking some philosophy class we don't know about?"

Scott scoffed. "Shut up, man. You already bailed on us last week at Jake's. You're coming tonight."

"I don't think anyone will feel like celebrating after that." Trent stared pathetically at the scoreboard. "Scott's right. We got our asses handed to us."

"We did not!" I exclaimed. "We played hard!"

"Not hard enough." Trent muttered.

I shot him a glare.

Trent sighed. "Face it, Con. Ridgemount is the stronger team. We've won barely any games against them since Anderson joined the line-up."

"They're stronger, but we're faster. I know we can get around their defenders. I just haven't figured out how."

"We."

"What?"

Trent smiled. "You said 'I'. Soccer is a team sport, man. This isn't all on you."

"I'm the Captain."

"Which is why you should be coming tonight." Scott smirked, knowing he'd found the perfect opening. "Win or lose, you're Connor Taylor. No one will care about the loss when they see their Captain walk into that party, head held high like nothing ever happened today."

"Life isn't a movie, Scottie."

"But this is a game and win or lose, you have to appear strong. No one's going to believe a victory is in store for us if you're not around to show them."

I sighed. Sweat was beginning to harden in my hair. The odour rolling off my body confirmed the assumption that I was in desperate need of a shower.

"C'mon, dude." Scott grinned, sealing the deal. "Free alcohol and half the volleyball team in minidresses. You can't pass up on that."

"Except in his case," Trent shot me a knowing smile. "He can unless it's a closeted football player with the right amount of ego to tame."

I laughed then. "You saying I need some punk ass half back with fragile masculinity just to have a good time?"

"No," Trent drawled, "but maybe it wouldn't be so bad entertain the distraction?"

He and Scott held their breath as they awaited my answer. I lasted ten seconds before sighing. "Fine," I rolled my eyes as they both cheered, "one drink. That's it."

"Sure, man," Scott clapped me on the back, wearing that stupid grin of his. "Whatever you say."

He and Trent began to walk toward the locker room, chatting animatedly about what drinks to bring and who was driving tonight.

I stood rooted in place. Ridgemount was still celebrating across the field. Dakota was easy to spot in the middle and I glared at the back of his head.

"You better watch yourself Anderson." I growled under my breath. "Next time it won't be so easy."