She nodded, stepping away from the center circle and keeping her eye on Ibou. The ref blew his whistle as Ibou placed the ball on the center spot. He kicked it to his teammate, who dribbled it.
“Pass it back here,” Ibou roared. “Let me show this girl.” Sunny ran at Ibou as soon as he got the ball, and they scrambled for it. Ibou tried to elbow her in the ribs, but she dodged him and took the ball with her.
“And Sunny makes a fool of Ibou, again,” the commentator said.
She ran with it, looking around for the others.
“Sasha!” she shouted, passing to him. It was intercepted. They all turned and ran to the other side. The boy who took it was fast. Before she knew it, the ball was dribbled through the defensive line. Ibou elbowed Mossa as he passed and Mossa fell to the ground clutching his chest. The ref blew the whistle as Ibou passed the ball to his teammate. The boy kicked it hard toward the goal. Godwin leapt and knocked the ball out of the way. Then he ran to Mossa. “You okay?” he asked, helping the boy up.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Ibou said. Then he shook his head. “No, not really.”
By the second half, Sunny could barely think straight, she was in such ecstasy. The white team was made up of brutes, but when they weren’t hurting people, they were really good. Somehow Sunny’s team managed to hang on, down only two to three.
Godwin had them go from an attacking arrangement to a defensive one when he realized that the boys on defense were terrified of the white team. It was Godwin, Sasha, Ousman, Agaja, and Sunny who really held them together.
“Kouty, kick it out of bounds!” she shouted as she pushed past the white team player trying to block her. Kouty was surrounded by four opponents like a trapped rabbit. He kicked wildly toward Sasha. Ibou swooped in, stole the ball, and soon after the white team scored.
“Oh, no!” she said, stamping her foot. She tried to give Kouty an encouraging smile. “Nice try,” she said, and went back to the center.
“One minute left in the game,” the commentator said. “Can the green team make two goals by then? It’s doubtful, but they don’t seem ready to give up.”
“I’m certainly not,” Sunny said as she faced Ibou.
“You guys never had a chance,” Ibou said. “Girls belong on the damn sidelines.”
“Do you know what century it is?” she asked.
“What do you care about time, ghost girl?” he said.
“Trash-talking on the field, I see,” the commentator remarked. “One of the richest traditions of the Zuma Cup. Seems we’re witnessing the creation of a new rivalry between the white and green!”
“Ey!” Sasha said to Ibou. “Why don’t you shut your mouth before I make your lips fatter?”
Ibou pointed angrily at Sasha and ran his finger across his neck.
Sasha just laughed and said, “Bring it.” He’d already fouled Ibou six times. It didn’t compare to the number of times the white team had fouled the green defensive line, all of whom were younger, smaller, and more afraid. Ibou had fouled Sunny three times and she had the bruises on her shins and cuts on her knees to prove it.
The ref blew his whistle as Sunny put the ball down. She passed it to Agaja, who passed it to Sasha, who passed it back to Sunny. Ibou immediately came at her, and the two fought for the ball. Ibou grabbed it with his foot; she put her foot on his foot and snatched the ball away. He swerved around her and took it. She shot out her foot and got it back. They went on like this for several more seconds, Ibou cursing as he fought with her. Sunny was laughing. Two members of the white team came running over to triple-team Sunny.
“Stay back!” Ibou shouted, out of breath.
“A foot battle,” the commentator said. “The albino girl against the superstar boy.”
Sunny didn’t know she could be so fast and quick. Eventually, he got it away from her and he laughed, victorious. She was so tickled with herself that she forgot to be angry.
“Sasha, stay there!” she shouted as she pursued Ibou. He was zigzagging, trying to shake her off. But she anticipated his every move. She saw her chance and snatched it from right between his legs. She took off, passing back and forth with Sasha. Most of the white team’s offensive was overconfident, so they’d left the other half of the field open. Sasha passed the ball to Agaja, who dribbled past the two remaining white defenders and then squared the ball to Sunny. She played in a perfect cross to Sasha, who slammed it in just as the ref called time.
“GOOOOOOOOAL!” the commentator shouted. Everyone cheered.
In the end, they lost three to four, but it was hard to tell. Godwin went running from his goalpost and the whole team smashed together in one big group hug. “That was amazing, o!” Godwin exclaimed.
“Did you see her?” Kouty exclaimed.
“Like Pele!” Sasha shouted.
The French speakers were shouting in French.
And chittim rained on us all.
The white team looked half as happy, and less than half as much chittim fell around them. They gathered and calmly slapped hands, turning to look at the green team celebrating its loss.
“And this year’s Zuma Cup goes to the white team, captained by Ibou Diop. We hope you enjoy your gift certificates to Fadio’s Furiously Fascinating Book Shop, located in Abuja. Congratulations to you and your scholar teachers.”
15
“How am I supposed to go back home after a day like this?” Sunny asked. “Regular life is going to seem so boring.”
She and Chichi were in the bathroom. Since there were no showers at the festival, she’d done the best she could with a wet washcloth, then sprayed herself with perfume she’d bought with some of the chittim she’d earned at the soccer game kickoff. She looked at her new braids in the mirror. Chichi had taken her to a hair stall right after the game, where the stylist had used skill and juju to speed-wash then braid Sunny’s hair. The tiny, neat braids framed her face and fell just above her shoulders.
Chichi laughed. “The night is still young, though.”
“What’s this social thing anyway? Is there any way we can skip it? I’m exhausted.”
“Nah, we have to wait for Anatov to get out of that meeting, anyway.”
Outside, it was early evening and a nice cool breeze was blowing. Sasha and Orlu sat waiting on a nearby bench. Sasha was smoking a cigarette. “Man, what were you all doing in there?” he asked. He threw down his cigarette butt and ground it with his sandal.
He’s lucky he can run on the field without wheezing like an old man, smoking those things, Sunny thought.
“Orlu, do you know who we give these uniforms back to?” she asked.
“Keep it. You’re on the green team if you want to play next year.”
“Excellent,” Sasha said. “I’m in.”
“Me, too,” she said.
The social had already begun by the time they got there. It was in a tent beside the field. Inside, bass-heavy dance music blasted. Two older students stood at the entrance. “Welcome,” one said. She looked them up and down. “Who’s your teacher?”
“Anatov,” the other said. He pointed at Sasha and her. “At least those two. They’re the football players from the green team.”
“Oh!” she said, recognizing Sunny. “You were great! I always wanted to play, but I didn’t know I could. At least the girls who come after you will know now.”
Sunny was delighted. She hadn’t even thought of that.
The boy chuckled. “They’ll have to play as well as her, or they shouldn’t bother.” Sunny frowned. Why should girls be held to higher standards to play?
“Anatov’s our teacher, too,” Chichi said, looking a little annoyed.
“All right,” he said. “Go on in and enjoy the food. No teachers are allowed, so you can relax.” He handed them each a small white towel. “You’ll need these.”