Jaided
by
ASHLEY ROSE
Chapter 1
J
aide knew her life depended on getting along with boys in this all-boy school, the one where she had suddenly become the only girl. That wouldn’t be easy. Most of the boys she had known smelled bad, had bad manners, and were rude and generally beastly. Despite the logistics of one girl living in a sea of testosterone, her father had made it happen. They both knew that this was the safest place for her. Here, she would receive a good education. Here, she would feel shielded from her past. At least, she hoped she would. She just hoped nobody would ask too many questions. After all, a female in a boys’ school was bound to raise eyebrows. As she approached her assigned room along the dormitory hall, Jaide felt her beauty could become a survival weapon. Boys were suckers for good looks.
She knocked gently on the heavy mahogany door adorned with a brass number 12, anticipating a scrawny roommate the proctor said was named Ablaiza.
No answer. It was mid-afternoon. Maybe he’d gone out.
Jaide adjusted her backpack and withdrew a key from a zippered side pocket. The small sound of the zipper echoed down the hall, amplified many times over by her heightened sense of dread.
Suppose he doesn’t like me,
she thought,
suppose I say the wrong thing?
She knocked again - nothing.
Jaide inserted the key and turned it noiselessly. The door swung open. There, on one of the twin beds covered with brown Army blankets, sat Ablaiza with his back to her. He was facing a mirror on the wall behind the bed, seated in a contorted Lotus position, huge earphones engulfing his ears. His hands patted out a rhythm on the bed. He wasn’t scrawny, and he even looked kind of normal. That is, until he spotted her in the mirror.
Ablaiza jumped about six inches and spun around to face Jaide with a shout.
“Gran madre de Dios!
Who the heck are you?”
Jaide stepped sideways, startled, and blurted, “I’m Jaide. I’m your new roommate.”
“You’re a girl!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Ablaiza yanked off his earphones. Jaide could hear the faint beat of Green Tree doing
Do You Believe Me
across the room. "Didn't you read the letter they sent you?"
“Who are they?”
“The school.” She bit her lip. “I’m a special student.”
“You sure as hell are! Jesus, you’re a girl!”
Jaide shut the door and dropped her pack on the otherbed, and then extended her hand for what she hoped would be a handshake. She watched the shocked Ablaiza struggle out of his music-listening position and plant both feet firmly on the floor. She perceived no handshake would be forthcoming. He had a square, tan face, and what looked like a scraggly attempt to grow a mustache. He was “hot,” that was for sure. Under his bed, she spotted a pair of soccer shoes all tangled in a bundle of laces and cleats.
“You play soccer?”
“Yeah, and I’m due at tryouts right now.”
“You better undo that mess,” she said, pointing to his shoes.
“God, you’re bossy. And here I’m called
Blaize
, get it?”
“Look,” she said, pulling a paper from her pack, “here’re my admittance credentials.” She smiled. “I’m legitimate, really.”
“You are a girl in a boys’ school.”
“Yes, and a very exclusive school at that, wouldn’t you agree? Exeter Creek School in Yakima, Washington.”
“It was exclusive ‘til now.” He started struggling with his tangled shoes. “Shit.”
“Oh, run along. I can undo that mess in no time. Girls are good at that. I’ll bring your shoes in a minute.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.” She smiled again, this time a little sweeter. “I play soccer, too.”
“It’s a boys’ team.”
“We’ll see about that. Run along, roomie.”
He rose, rather bewildered but tall, she thought, and on leaving, stuck his head back in the door. “Why couldn’t they give you your own room, you know, just for a girl?”
“Rules. Gotta have a roommate,” she said. “Run along. I’ll be right there.”
Jaide changed into her soccer gear and jogged down the hall, working on his cleats as she went. She had them unknotted by the time she reached the field.
Boys were already there and stretching. She wasn't too late. A few boys were still gathering. She spotted Ablaiza in a group with some other boys, still getting their gear on.
She strode up to them, dropped his cleats beside him and sat down.
"Thanks ... what are you doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you have soccer stuff on?"
"I'm trying out, remember? It
is
open try outs, right?"
She smiled at the other boys. There were six of them, all looking at her. "So it's true, there is a girl going here."
"Yep." She beamed.
"Blaize, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?"
He just shook his head.
"I'm Jaide, his roomie. Who are you guys?"
"We're all his friends. I'm Alex, that's Chance and Garret, over there is Matt and Leith, and that's Bhrade. We all play on a summer team together."
"Ohh, I see. Did you guys all play on this team last year?"
"All except me," said Bhrade. "I just moved here this summer."
"Cool."
The coach, clipboard in hand, looked like a tanned but wrinkled version of Robert Redford with a hangover, his shaggy hair struggling out from under his baseball cap, his paunch distended over the rope belt of his gray sweats. "Ok boys!” he shouted, “Get off your assess! I want organized groups! Forwards, here! Mids, over there! Defenders go over there, and goalies inside the goal!"
Everyone scattered to their groups and Jaide headed for midfielder with Matt and Leith. Chance and Alex headed for the defender group, Blaize and Garret went to the forwards and Bhrade headed for the goal.
The coach interrupted her jog toward the Mids, raising his hand like a traffic cop. "So you're the girl who thinks she can play soccer with the boys, eh?"
"I'm gonna try."
"You won't get any special consideration."
"I don't want any."
"Good. You will get equal opportunities as the boys but not special treatment. That includes no girls’ locker room. There isn't one anyway. That is,
if
you make the team." She nodded. She heard a few snickers.
"Ok everyone, in case you didn't know, I am Coach Thacker. Coach Matthew Robinson is my assistant this year. I am going to spare you all the pep talk in the interest of time. Now, according to the new Athletic Code of Conduct, players from last year who made the team must go through tryouts as well." A few grumbles came from the boys. "If you ask me, it's a great idea." The grumbles disappeared. "I want a couple laps and then stretches. I don't want any pulled muscles today. Matthew, get them started."
Matthew led the two laps at a brisk jog and Jaide kept pace easily. Most of the boys did too, though some were winded after the first lap. Jaide suppressed a laugh.
Jaide glided along the second lap, taking in the scenery. The athletic fields spread out like endless carpets of green seascapes without any waves, just a few white chalked lines to show her boundaries. The rounded mountains crested to the West, beyond the white and brown brick classroom buildings, and over toward Seattle, where her banker father held court in a mansion almost as large as the entire Exeter Creek campus.
But the boundaries, those demarking white lines
, she thought as they completed the laps,
boundaries were what the doctors said she needed to help her forget
.
As Matthew led stretches, she noticed a few boys just sitting, as if they thought they didn't need to stretch. She stood for partner stretches and looked about. Everyone in the circle was taken. Coach Matthew approached her a little sheepishly.
"Need a partner?"
She smiled and nodded. Unlike Coach Thacker, this Matthew fellow was a specimen of athleticism. He reminded her of her brother Tremaine, who was in his first year at nearby Central Washington University in Ellensburg.
Mathew held her ankle while she stretched her hamstring. "You going out for midfielder?"
"Yeah, I was gonna try for center but it sounds like it's already taken." She smiled a little.
He grinned and dropped her leg, then held his arm out for the other one. "You're pretty flexible."
"Yeah, it helps when slide tackling." She winked.
They finished the stretches and Coach Thacker came over.
"Ok boys and girl, everyone line up on the end line on each side of the goal and I'll tell you how this works."
Everyone lined up quickly. Jaide knew it would be some sort of sprints. "First, I need a goalie. Ours graduated last year. You’ll have to run and be keeper so you'll have a disadvantage, but you better not be last. Who wants to do it?"
Only Bhrade stepped out, but Jaide knew there had been more boys going out for goalie.
"You new this year, boy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Experience?"
"Starting varsity all three years at my old school, and on summer league."
"I saw you play this summer."
"Yes, sir."
"Ok, anyone else? No? All right, everyone who
might
go for goalie step forward."
Three boys shuffled forward. Jaide noticed they were the same ones who had looked like they didn’t need to stretch.
"All right. Thank you for your time, gentlemen. You can leave now."
The boys looked at the coach, dumbstruck.
"You heard me. Leave. You didn't make the team."
Looking highly pissed off, the outcasts strolled away toward the locker room, heads bowed.
“Goalies must make sacrifices for their team. Those boys couldn't even handle a little one. How are they going to dive head first into an oncoming kick to save the game?"
Everyone mumbled agreement with the coach.
"You're the goalie, Bhrade. You better be good."
"Ok, everyone will get a shot, no matter the position, at a penalty kick. You get two tries. If you miss the first shot, the team sprints two down and back and you don't shoot again. If you make it, the team doesn't run and you shoot again. If you miss this one, the team runs one down and back. If you make it, the team doesn't run at all. The person who misses doesn't get to run. They have to sit and watch their teammates run without them because of their failure. And if you, boy," he addressed Bhrade, "don’t give it 110 percent, I will know, and the team will run for the next two hours while you watch."
Jaide gulped along with everyone else.