Get out of Adella's way

You know you can't stop her. She's too strong, and she would run you over like a freight train. You dodge out of the way, and one of the other girls tries to take her out, but Adella jumps over her. She lands and takes her shot, but your goalie stops the shot. The whistle blows, and the game is over.

You stop to get your breath, dripping sweat. Adella looks over her shoulder at you, and she does not look friendly. You try to smile at her, but you are gasping. You're in shape, but it has been a long day.

You join the others in getting off the field and help yourself to some Powerade.

A girl trots up to you with a towel. Her name is Julieta, and she is from France. You can't understand a word she says, but she's been very enthusiastic about you since she sat next to you on the plane. From what you can understand, she saw a video of that kick that made you famous, and she is a fan. She's tiny, with dark hair in a pixie cut, and fast.

You take the towel.

"Thanks." You take the towel, but she doesn't speak English, and you don't speak French, so you aren't sure what else you can say. "Merci," you attempt, but it doesn't come out well because you're wheezing.

She beams at you and follows the others. It's so hot that they are all dying to be in the showers. You are too, but you can't. You have a secret to keep, and you have to wait until everyone else is done before you shower.

You mop your face and go to find Michelle to see what she thought of the game. She's on the bleachers, and you gulp Powerade as you go over to her. Michelle is miserable in the heat. She has her hat and sunglasses on, and her shirt is almost as sweaty as yours. She was a good goalie before an injury took her out of the game.

"Go away," she says without looking up from her phone. "You stink."

So much for your plan to waste time before going into the shower.

"Go," Michelle adds, prodding you with her phone. "There's a schedule."

You haven't forgotten. This place is fancy and expensive, but it's here for the coaches and the scouts, not the players. There's always something you're supposed to be doing.

More girls are going out onto the field. They're going to start their game, but you can't stand around and watch, even though you want to. You drag your feet into the locker room, which is part heaven and part hell, but mostly hell.

The first thing you see is a glimpse of that Swedish girl with blonde hair walking, fully nude, into the showers and it gives you heartache. You don't know her. You have barely spoken to her, but you have a full-sized crush on her, or at least on her blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and pale, impossible body.

Now she's out of sight, and you see Julieta yank off her sports bra. She has tiny, round little boobs, and her dark nipples are standing straight up.

You look away from her, and the girl from Kenya is stretching her arms over her head, and the light is catching on her ripped abs.

To your left, a girl you don't even know is bent over and rummaging through her bag, and her sweaty panties are tight, damp, and riding up in a way that makes your knees wobble.

You sit on the bench in front of your locker and lean over to hide the erection growing in your shorts.

"You all right?" the Kenyan girl asks. Her name is Duni, and even though she's from Kenya she sounds like she's from England.

You nod. "Hot," you say.

"She's a murderer," the real British girl says. She's a brunette with short hair. Her name's Beth, and she is stepping out of her shorts and panties. You look away.

"Oi, Riley."

"Yeah?" You look up to find her in front of you.

"You know what's what. You got out of her fucking way. Smart," she tells you.

You don't stare at her dark pubic hair, or at the two moles on her butt.

You nod again. "I chose life."

"Fucking right." Beth walks away, and you catch yourself watching her ass. Your cock is aching.

"I'd have done the same," Riona says to you. She's from Ireland, with hair even redder than yours. You have freckles on your face, but Riona has them all over her body. She's standing in her shorts and sports bra, pulling the bra away from her skin to get air.

You glimpse one of her round, full breasts and a huge nipple.

They all go and shower. You sit there with your phone and wait, listening to them talking and laughing in there. There's nothing like sitting there with an erection you can't touch while they make dirty jokes and talk about dicks and boyfriends.

You can't just sit there. You have to make a decision. If they come out and find you like this, they'll worry.