The sunny field buzzed with kids. Jamie dribbled the ball past three defenders. "Jamie! Pass!" his team called.
Jamie laughed and kicked higher. The crowd clapped and clapped. His chest puffed out big.
Maya waved her arms. "Jamie, over here!" But Jamie spun the ball and kept going.
He shot — and missed wide. The ball rolled into the parking lot with a lonely hum. Maya stomped her foot.
Championship game. Jamie got the ball again. He weaved and dodged and zoomed. Four defenders closed in — the ball popped loose.
A tall kid from the other team grabbed it, ran the whole field, and scored. The final whistle blew.
Jamie sat on the grass. His red cleats were scuffed and one was untied. His teammates walked over slowly.
Maya held out her hand. "Next time, pass the ball." Jamie stared at her open palm and nodded once.
Next game. Jamie got the ball. "Maya, now!" he yelled.
He passed. Maya scored. The net rippled like water. His whole team piled on top of him, laughing.