Syder stepped onto the football field, his scuffed ball tucked under his arm. The other kids jostled past him without looking.
"Move it, slowpoke!" one kid laughed, kicking the ball hard. It bounced off his foot and rolled right into the tall grass.
Syder kicked his ball against the garage wall by himself. Thump. Thump. It bounced back faster each time.
Thump, thump, thump — the ball tapped his knees like it was saying: again. He kept kicking.
Syder lined up his shot. He kicked hard — the ball arced through the air, curving like a rainbow around the other kids.
The ball landed right at his feet. The other kids stopped and stared.
Syder dribbled the ball between his legs, weaving through the field, and scored a goal all by himself.
One kid clapped. Then another. Then they all clapped.
"Pass it here!" the kid who laughed first called out. Syder kicked the ball right to him.
They kicked it back and forth until the sun went down. The field was empty except for their happy shouts.