Indigo stretched her arms before walking on the pitch. Even though she’d spent most of the day on her lessons, the sun was still high. She turned back to see the rest of the team, dressed in tracksuits, shirts of random football teams, or whatever t-shirts they grabbed in the morning. Indigo sighed. In two weeks, they had to come to CHS looking like the professional team.
She noticed lack of a couple of older girls who had finished school. Just when she thought who’d replace them, someone threw a ball at her. It bounced off her forehead and flew up, but then it was under Indigo’s control. She let the ball fall a bit, then kicked it up with her knee, letting it bounce off her chest and fall on her foot, using it to send the ball up right in time to kick it in the direction from which the ball had been thrown at her.
“Nice,” Sour Sweet said when the ball hit Sunny Flare in the face, sending her on the ground. “Do you think we have to mercy kill her?”
“I’d tell you to go and fuck a baboon, but that’d be incest,” Sunny Flare muttered, her face red. She stood up. “You need to work on your aim, Indigo. I didn’t throw that ball at you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Indigo replied. “I was just thinking about the team. Some girls left, after all.”
“Yeah, and we have a big hole in the middle,” Sunny Flare said. “Like, Lemon won’t play and that angry ruffian who was the defensive midfielder finished school.”
“Well, there’s always Frosty Orange.” Sour Sweet pointed at the girl with light blue hair, who placed the ball a bit outside of the penalty area and kicked it towards the goal. Fleur dived, tipping the ball with her fingers. It bounced off the post and flew outside the field.
“That was close,” Indigo said, grabbing another ball. She was about to send it towards the goal kept by Fleur, but at the same time, she heard a whistle. Turning, she saw Mr. Sombra walking towards them. He wore a white, tight t-shirt that made some of the younger girls blush; Indigo, however, only shrugged at that.
“Hello,” Mr. Sombra said. “I see you’re all in a good form after vacation.”
“Well, except Lemon, but she stopped being important once it turned out she couldn’t play,” Indigo whispered to Sugarcoat, who didn’t reply, too busy wincing due to contact lenses she wore when playing.
“Soon, we’ll get the whole information about CHS’ tactics and line-up,” Mr. Sombra continued. “But first, we need to think about our own rooster. May I introduce you our new defensive midfielder, Suri Polomare!”
Indigo looked at Suri Polomare. She was short, especially when standing up next to Fleur and Sour Sweet, two tallest players in the team. A smirk adorned her face; Indigo thought that she looked like a terrier belonging to an old lady who, due to being given too much attention, developed a really nasty character.
“Is she gonna bite people in the knees, or what?” Sunny Flare asked.
“We’ll see.” Indigo dropped the ball to her feet.
Fleur ran to the goal, from where she started to shout at the defenders. Indigo looked at the whole formation: Upper Crust on the right, Ginger Owlseye on the left, Sugarcoat and Melon Mint in the middle. Suri Polomare stood slightly in front of them, still smirking at Indigo.
“Your task is to pass through the defences and score a goal,” Mr. Sombra said to Indigo. She walked slightly to the right side of the pitch, letting Sour Sweet take the left side. Sunny Flare stood even more to the left, by the sideline. On the other side of the pitch, a redhead called Orange Sherbette was getting ready to run down the right wing.
“Okay.” Indigo passed the ball to the back, to Frosty Orange, and rushed forward, waiting for a pass. Melon Mint immediately ran to her, but Indigo changed her position, looking for a way to lose her.
She saw that Frosty Orange had passed the ball to Orange Sherbette, who now ran past Ginger Owlseye, turned near the corner of the pitch and crossed the ball. Sour Sweet smirked. She was much taller than Suri, who stood next to her, and Sugarcoat was too far away to help. Indigo ran into the penalty area, knowing that Sour Sweet would knock the ball down there with her head.
She spun to receive a pass, but the ball didn’t come. Indigo looked down the pitch and that Suri, having no other way to win a header against Sour Sweet, had jumped at grabbed her arms, bringing her down. The ball, not bothered by any of them, flew to the left wing and ended up on Sunny Flare’s chest.
“Foul!” Indigo exclaimed.
“Play on!” Mr. Sombra pointed at Sunny Flare, who made full use of the confusion of defenders, dribbling the ball past Upper Crust and Sugarcoat. Indigo nodded. They still had ball and it’d be easier for them to score than from a free kick. She ran out of the penalty area, leaving Melon Mint behind, but Sunny had another idea, rushing towards the goal. Fleur was quick off her line, running towards the ball.
“Damn!” Indigo exclaimed when Sunny tried to send Fleur the wrong way, only for the ball to sting the keeper’s hand and bounce off towards her. Indigo brought the ball down with her chest and was ready for another shoot, but at the same moment she felt a sharp pain in her ankle and fell face-first to the grass.
“How’s your sister?” someone whispered to her. She looked up and saw Suri, standing up after the sliding tackle. “Guess you may join her in prison one day.”
“Fuck off,” Indigo muttered, standing up. She grabbed the ball and put it on the ground in front of her – this time, they got a free kick.
“I guess you’d be very popular in there.” Suri smirked and walked off to take place in the wall in front of Fleur’s goal, hardly listening to Mr. Sombra telling her to be less brutal.
Sour Sweet stood by Indigo’s side. “May I shoot?” she whispered to her. “I need to break that little whore’s nose.”
“You too?” Indigo asked.
“She said they should lock me up,” Sour Sweet replied. “Dunno why. I’m normal, right?” She smiled, baring her teeth. “I am normal.”
“You know? I’ll do that.” Indigo pointed at the wall, consisting of Melon Mint, Suri, and Sugarcoat. “You’re a bit, umm… angry… You could accidentally hit Sugarcoat.”
“I can live with that,” Sour Sweet growled. “She pissed me off too recently.”
“Melon is innocent, though.” Indigo sighed. “And I can kick stronger.”
“Okay.” Sour Sweet shook her head. Indigo looked at the ball and took a few long, well-measured steps back. Normally, she’d watch the goal and where Fleur was, but this time, it was different. She looked at the wall again, noting the positions of the players. Sour Sweet stood by her side, but it was only to confuse the defenders.
Mr. Sombra blew a whistle. Sour and Indigo rushed towards the ball, but Sour jumped over it. Indigo noticed that at the same moment Suri lowered her head a bit, as if trying to dodge. Nevertheless, she kicked the ball with all her might. It flew into the air, slipping between Suri’s hands and hit her in the solar plexus.
Suri let out a stifled scream and fell on her back. The ball flew above her and was effortlessly caught by Fleur.
“You did that on purpose!” Mr. Sombra shouted, while Suri tried to catch her breath. “What is wrong with you today?” He groaned. “Guess we could use a short break.”
“Yeah,” Indigo muttered. “Guess I’ll go to our teammate and apologise.” She gestured Sour Sweet towards herself and they both walked to Suri, who had been helped up by Sugarcoat.
“Can we have a talk?” Indigo embraced Suri and walked with her to the side of the pitch, accompanied by Sour Sweet. “About team spirit.”
Suri muttered something incomprehensible. The only word Indigo caught was “cunt”.
“Whatever,” Indigo said. “Care to explain what was that?”
“I want to provoke the opposing team,” Suri replied. “I see that it worked.”
“Provoke?” Indigo smirked and looked at Sour Sweet. “Indeed. But stick to the opposing team, okay? Remember that we’re teammates.”
“We think as a team. We are one,” Sour Sweet said. “If not, then, well…”
“That reminds me.” Indigo looked into Suri’s eyes. “Sour, remember that girl who wanted to be in the team, but then called you and Lemon ‘a psychotic lesbo and her fucktoy’?”
“Sure.” Sour Sweet gave Suri a heavy glare. “You know what happened to her?”
“No,” Suri replied, trying to free herself from Indigo’s embrace.
“She had an unfortunate accident,” Indigo said. “She… slipped in the showers and bashed her forehead against the tap.”
“And sprained her ankle.” Sour Sweet smiled.
“Really?” Indigo looked at her. “I don’t remember that part. But while we are at it, try not to injure your teammates before the game, okay? You could’ve broken my leg.”
“That was after you left the showers,” Sour Sweet said. “Along with a few more things…” She patted Suri’s shoulder. “Are we cool?”
Suri had to look up for her eyes to meet Sour’s. “Yeah, we’re cool,” she replied quickly.
“Good.” Sour Sweet smirked. “Welcome to the team. We’ll keep an eye on you…”
Suri nodded and ran away, seeing that the break was about to end. Indigo turned to Sour Sweet and shook her head. “Do you think we’ve been a little too harsh?”
“No,” Sour Sweet replied. “I still hate her.”
Indigo opened her mouth to say something, but Sour Sweet already ran off, chasing the ball. Shrugging, Indigo followed her.
The sun was still up when Indigo’s motorcycle stopped in front of the large wooden house. Indigo looked around to see if Ruby wasn’t creeping somewhere in the shadows. Having not seen her, she walked to the door and knocked.
The door opened. “Hi, Indy.” Bulk embraced Indigo and kissed her. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” Indigo replied, walking inside with him. “More or less.”
Bulk chuckled. “More or less?”
Before Indigo could reply, they walked into the living room. Indigo saw someone she didn’t expect in there – a short, skinny boy sitting on the couch and browsing some photos on a tablet.
“My little brother, Featherweight,” Bulk said.
“I can’t imagine how he got this name,” Indigo muttered.
Featherweight raised his head and smiled. “So, you’re my brother’s girlfriend?” He raised his tablet and took a photo, blinding Indigo with a flash. “Nice,” he purred, looking at the result. “I also do professional photo shoots, so if you are interested–”
“I have a friend, her name is Sour Sweet,” Indigo said. “She’d be more than happy to become your model.” She turned to Bulk and whispered, “Any other family members I should meet?”
“Well, my two older brothers don’t live here anymore,” Bulk said. “And my parents are leaving–”
At the same moment, Indigo heard steps of someone going downstairs. She turned in that direction and raised her eyebrows.
Bulk’s father didn’t look like Indigo had imagined. He was rather short and while he was slim and muscular, he still looked like an older version of Featherweight. Bulk’s mother, however, was completely different. With her blue-ish skin and quite an impressive height, she resembled Bulk’s cousins, but was probably heavier than all three of them combined. And, much to Indigo’s surprise, most of it was muscles.
“Welcome,” Bulk’s father said. “Bulk told me about you. Lightning Zap’s daughter, huh? One of the best quarterbacks I’ve seen in my life.” He looked at Indigo’s uniform. “Crystal Prep? Who’d say? Back in my days, we hated each other with passion.”
“Well, it got better recently,” Indigo replied. “I think.”
Bulk’s father nodded. “Yeah, I know. No longer a glorious rivalry… You know, back in my days, we managed to slip a girl of, umm… questionable morals into one of your parties. Those thirty Crystal Prep guys never knew what hit them when they all suddenly felt itch in their–”
“I think that’s enough, Hamstring,” Bulk’s mother muttered. It sounded like starting an engine of an oil tanker. “Also, we’re going to be late.”
“Well, of course we’d never do that now,” Hamstring said, looking around nervously. “I mean, it was before that monkey virus and we didn’t quite watch out when, umm…”
“Dad…” Bulk muttered, his face red.
“Oh yeah, my sister’s birthday.” Bulk’s father looked at his wife. “We have to go now, so have fun, kids.”
“Sorry for him,” Bulk muttered as soon as the door closed behind his parents.
“He’d get on well with my dad,” Indigo said. “He likes telling embarrassing stories from my childhood.”
“We must keep them away from each other,” Bulk said. “Featherweight!”
Featherweight looked away from his tablet. “Yes?”
“We’re going upstairs.”
“Are you gonna have sex?”
“No.” Bulk shook his head. “How about you and Ruby, by the way?”
“Should I repeat what she told me when I asked her out?” Featherweight blushed.
“No, I can imagine that.” Bulk walked up the stairs. Indigo followed him, listening to the creaking of the wooden boards. The whole house looked pretty cosy, especially in comparison with cold crystal walls of her school. Indigo smiled, relaxing.
“I cleaned it a bit,” Bulk said, opening the door to his room. “But it’s still somewhat cramped.”
Indigo didn’t mind. She sat on the chair in front of a small desk and turned around on it, watching the room. One half of it was stacked with weights of various shape and colour. On the opposite side, there was a bed as well as a shelf with some books and a violin case. A few movie posters and gym motivational quotes were hanging from the walls.
“Looks nice,” Indigo said. “So, how was your day?”
“Not bad,” Bulk replied. “Cloudy Kicks went mad when she heard we’re together. She’d like to meet you.”
“Who the hell is Cloudy Kicks?” Indigo asked.
“The head of Norman’s harem.” Bulk chuckled. “You know, the bowling alley guy.”
“Ah, this one.” Indigo smirked, resting herself against the back of the chair. “Guess she didn’t take that bowling ball well…”
“She says they’ll destroy you in the soccer match,” Bulk said. “And by the way, never call it ‘soccer’ when Octavia can hear you. Unless you want to hear a very British rant.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Indigo muttered. “I’m not sure what gave her the idea that they stand a chance against us. I’ve seen the girls today and I simply know that we’ll destroy you.”
“Sure.” Bulk shook his head. “It’ll be Crystal Prep syndrome all over again. You have no chance.”
“We have, if you don’t use any magic.” Indigo pouted. “Also, what syndrome?”
“No magic, I promise,” Bulk replied. “The girls too. And by syndrome, I mean that first you play with us, then Sunnydale High comes to you, then you go to play with Grove Hill, another home match with Midtown High School, then Pearl Bailey High School, and so on. I’ve noticed you prepare to every match like it was the decisive battle to save the universe and by the end of the season you crack.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “We do?”
“Yes.” Bulk nodded. “Every year you fizzle out. Losing 6:0 with those hacks from New Salem in the semi-final last year? Really?”
Indigo blushed. “We all got food poisoning after reaching New Salem. And it was their work.”
“You wouldn’t play with them if you did better in the regular season. And you could do better.”
Indigo sighed. “Okay, we were a bit tired. With Friendship Games too. But we won when I was in the team for the first time. I played for maybe an hour in the entire season and scored only one goal, but it was in the final match and–” She paused, seeing that Bulk was laughing. “What?”
“High school soccer is a serious business, I see.” Bulk smiled.
“In Crystal Prep everything is a serious business.” Indigo sighed. “And to think that I almost considered dropping out…”
“You did?” Bulk raised his eyebrows. “I always thought you love this school.”
“I do,” Indigo replied. “The thing is, you can get a pilot’s licence when you’re seventeen and I always wanted to be a hospital helicopter pilot. I wouldn’t have time for that with school and all…”
“So you wanted to leave school and become a pilot?” Bulk looked at Indigo. “That sounds crazy.”
“Well, it lasted about five minutes,” Indigo replied. “Then Sunny Flare told me that it’d be better to become a paramedic first.”
“True.” Bulk nodded. “Meanwhile, I have no idea what to do after school. Probably not being a lumberjack.”
“Weightlifting?” Indigo shrugged. “I mean, you could do it professionally…”
“Nah, I prefer to be clean,” Bulk replied. “I was thinking about music, but I’m not good enough to play in a professional orchestra, like Octavia.”
“There are always folk metal bands.” Indigo chuckled. “You’d get a fancy leather clothes and sing about vikings.”
Bulk smiled. “Leather clothes? That’s some interesting kink…”
Indigo nearly choked, blushing. “What?” She shook her head. “I don’t have any… kinks.”
“Oh really?”
“Okay, maybe,” Indigo replied.
“Barbarians in furs?” Bulk asked.
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “Maybe.”
“That explains why you keep beating people,” Bulks said. “Body of a schoolgirl, soul of Genghis Khan.”
“What?” Indigo exclaimed. “I don’t beat people that often… I mean, I didn’t beat Suri Polomare today…”
“Who’s she?” Bulk asked.
“Some bitch.” Indigo shrugged. “She started, though, but Sour Sweet and I told her a cautionary tale…” Suddenly, she shuddered.
“What’s going on?” Bulk asked.
“Nothing.” Indigo waved her hand. “I mean...“
“What?”
“Well...“ Indigo cleared her throat. “There was one girl who moved out of the town after she had, umm… a small argument with me and Sour Sweet. Mostly Sour Sweet, though.”
“And what happened?”
“Well, umm…” Indigo shook her head. “You’re gonna hate me for that.”
Bulk walked to Indigo and embraced her. “I’d never hate you. After all, you didn’t throw this girl out of the window, did you?”
“Of course not,” Indigo replied, getting up from the chair and sitting on the bed next to Bulk. “I mean… Well, I punched her in the showers…”
“Typical for you, I’d say.” Bulk shook his head. “Have you ever thought about anger management?”
“Oh, I stopped being angry when I saw her bleeding,” Indigo replied, her voice faltering. “But I still left her there with Sour Sweet. I never asked Sour what she did to her, but I’d rather not know.”
Bulk nodded, holding Indigo closer.
“I screwed this up, didn’t I?” Indigo sighed.
Bulk nodded again. “Well…”
Suddenly, the door bursted open and Featherweight walked inside. “Hello!” he exclaimed.
“You should knock,” Bulk muttered.
Featherweight looked at Indigo. “Why should I knock when you don’t, bro?” He shrugged. “Anyway, since you’re not doing anything interesting, maybe you’d want to eat some junk food and play Carnage Corps II: Corpse Harder?”
Indigo raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure it’s a game for kids under eighteen.” She looked at Bulk, hearing him chuckle. “Yes, I know, but I’ll be eighteen in a month, not six years.”
“Five,” Featherweight muttered. “Also, I got a special Banana Holocaust edition…”
“Featherweight…” Bulk shook his head.
Featherweight smirked, pointing at Indigo. “And I’m sure I’m better than you.”
Indigo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really? You wish, kid…”