• The sun beat down on Andria “Andi” Bruemmer with a force that made her feel like she was standing in front of a large furnace. The front of her t-shirt was stained with sweat and the smell of it was starting to make her a bit ill to her stomach. The humidity made her shoulder length black hair, which was swept into a ponytail, hang lank against her back as if it had died during the three hours of practice. By nightfall the temperature would be cool enough to wear a jacket. It was a typical spring day in St. Louis.

    She wiped the sweat from her brow as she went through the passing drills in front of her soccer coach’s watchful eyes. When Coach Myers finally blew his whistle, she sprinted to the sidelines of the soccer pitch and slumped onto the bench. She greedily grabbed her water bottle and gulped copious amounts of liquid refreshment. As much as she loved soccer she was glad practice was over for the day. It was just too damn hot to be outside and she knew the weatherman on channel four would be of the same opinion as her.

    She half listened as Coach Myers, a short and stout man with close cropped sandy hair, commended the team on their work and told them when their next practice would be, reciting the day and time off a paper attached to his clipboard. When he finished she stood with the rest of the team, her mind on the showers and how wonderful the cold water would feel against her sizzling skin.

    “Bruemmer,” Coach Myers barked and she stopped in her tracks. She turned to see her coach jogging up to her.

    “Yes Coach,” she asked wondering why this lovely conversation couldn’t have waited until after her shower.

    “Remember a few months back when I showed you that DVD of FCR Frankfurt, the German women’s soccer team?”

    Of course she remembered. She had watched the team play with utter amazement and awe. They weren’t just good, they were extraordinary. Everyone worked with each other with a unity that she had wished her own team could play. One woman in particular had caught her eye. She had never seen a striker play like this woman did. There was grace, elegance, and speed in those legs. It was like watching a cheetah play soccer. She had remembered the number on the jersey and had looked the woman up on the team’s website. Upon seeing Gretchen Beckenbaur’s picture Andi had developed a crush.

    “What about it,” Andi asked nonchalantly as she itched an arm.

    “I took the liberty of sending them a DVD of you. They emailed me this afternoon regarding it.”

    Would you get to the point already, Andi mentally urged.

    “And?”

    “They want you to train with them this summer. They have a couple of exhibition games…” Andi didn’t hear the rest. Her mind was swarming. Her, training, in Germany, alongside Gretchen, all summer. She forced herself to focus. “…be staying with some of the other women – ”

    “Come again,” Andi asked wishing she had paid more attention.

    “A few of the other girls share a house. You’ll be staying with them. Unless that would make you uncomfortable in which case they would arrange a different living situation,” Coach Myers explained.

    “No, that’s fine,” she said weakly, “which players will I be living with?”

    Coach Myers rifled through the papers on his clipboard until he located the email. “Two defenders, Tanner and Adalia, and two strikers, Liesel and Gretchen. In any case you better buy a German dictionary and talk to the German professor about some quick lessons. You have to be there on June first. I hope your passport is still current.”

    “It is sir.”

    “Good. Now hit the showers,” Andi turned to leave, “oh and Bruemmer, please do something about that purple streak in your hair.”

    And smiled back at him. She had one purple streak of hair that framed the right side of her face. She’d had it for two years and for two years Coach Myers had tired to get her to dye it back to its natural color.

    “I couldn’t do that Coach. It’s my trademark. Besides, you shouldn’t stifle creative expression,” she gave him a mock look of anger.

    “I give up,” he replied, tossing his hands in the air in a sign of surrender.

    Andi grinned in victory but as she walked to the showers all she could think about was sharing a house for three months with Gretchen. She gave a crooked grin at the idea of seeing the brunette hair that was the same length as her own and those eyes that reminded her of a summer’s sky every day for three months.

    Sweet Jesus, how am I going to survive?