High and Dry by Sarah Skilton

couldn’t make it worse. Liquor was foul, but watered-down Miller Lite barely registered with me anymore. It practically tasted like water, just enough to remind me it wasn’t; I’d spend the next hour sideways, wishing I were on the other side.
    Ryder knocked his can into mine and got down to business. “Yeah. So. The soccer game on Friday.” He glanced toward the other room again. “Are you going to foul Agua Dulce?”
    â€œThat’s the question of the day.”
    â€œWho else asked you that?” he said sharply.
    â€œNo one,” I said, taken aback. “Just two clogged pores at the bus stop.”
    â€œAnd what’d you tell them?”
    â€œThat I have to see how it goes. Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t actually plan when and how I’m going to foul someone. I still
play the game
. Fouling might be part of a strategy, but if there’s a better way for me to get the ball, I do that instead.”
    â€œThere’s five hundred bucks with your name on it if you do what you normally do.”
    â€œAnd what do I normally do, exactly?” I said, teeth gritted.
    â€œFoul the crap out of Steve as quickly as possible. Preferably when he’s about to score.”
    â€œWhen he’s about to score,” I repeated.
    â€œYeah, just foul him like you normally do.”
    â€œBut it won’t be normal if I’m doing it because you told me to.” I was reminded of Ellie’s words to me on the phone last night.
“But you can’t change those things,”
she’d said
. “You didn’t think they were a problem. So if you change them, you’d only be doing it because I asked you to, not because you agree with me.”
    â€œPretend we never had this conversation, but know that if you do what you normally do, you’ll be five hundred bucks richer,” Ryder said simply.
    I really wished I were still center forward instead of fullback. Then maybe Ryder would pay me to hit the back of the net,something I’d
want
to do. Winning should be what I normally do, not maiming.
    â€œYou want me to throw the game,” I said slowly.
    He made a motion like “lower your voice.”
    â€œDon’t you?” I said, quieter.
    â€œNo, no, I just—”
    â€œFoul him
when he’s about to score?
After he’s had a first touch, gearing up to strike, so he’ll get a penalty kick.”
    He snorted. “You’re overthinking things, man.”
    I folded my arms, certain I had his scheme pegged. “Steve’s got the best PK conversion stats in LA County. If I give him a penalty kick, I’m
giving him
a score.”
    Ryder didn’t say anything.
    â€œCan’t do it,” I said. “If I’d decided to foul him on my own, in the heat of the game, that would be one thing, but asking me to deliberately lose a match? I have my faults, but that’s not me.”
    Ryder finished his beer and crushed the can in his fist. “Okay, okay! Sorry I asked. I thought you’d be cool with it.”
    â€œThat’s what you think of me? That I don’t care about the team, I don’t care about our record? That I’d sell the guys out?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t care about the lottery for junior parking spaces.”
    â€œMe having a damn parking space junior year is not the same thing as screwing up people’s
scholarships
,” I said, mostly because he had a point. Hadn’t I used the exact same argument on Ellie?
    All right, so I hadn’t been a model student before, and maybehe was right in thinking my ethics were flexible. But it bothered me nonetheless. “College recruiters are going to be there. Maybe they’re not looking at me, but they might pick Patrick or Delinksy. But not if Steve’s scoring left and right! I can’t do that to those guys.”
    Ryder’s eyes were cold black pools. “Then don’t show