"Mom, come on! Let's go," Summer whined as she hopped out of the green, beat up car. She danced impatiently as she waited for her family to accompany her. Her father grumbled as he unbuckled her younger brother, Morty, from his booster seat. The moment her brother was freed, and her mother had collected the beach bag from the trunk, Summer bolted for the soccer field.

"Summer," Beth cried in frustration, watching her daughter dart off. She brushed back her mussed hair before she slid on a pair of sunglasses. She and her husband were too exhausted to even attempt catching up with their daughter.

Morty, on the other hand, took it as a challenge. The toddler bounced forward on his stubby legs, grinning as he went. However, the child's fun ended when he lost his balance and face planted into the dirt. Jerry scolded Morty as he leisurely walked to the fallen child and pulled him onto his feet once more. The offhanded comment about a broken nose or potential to get sick made Morty's eyes widen in horror.

"Jerry," Beth sighed, walking past her husband and shooing her son to do the same.

Summer still bounced with energy when the rest of her family met her at the soccer field. The six year old giddily talked about how she was going to cream the other team.

"You'll do great, Honey," Beth cooed, laying a picnic blanket onto the lush grass.

"And even if you don't, we'll still love you," Jerry declared as he sat down. Beth cleared her throat and sent her husband a glare. "Ahah... N-not that you won't do great! I'm sure you're gonna give it all you got," Jerry stammered, correcting himself. Beth sent him one last scowl, but otherwise seemed satisfied with that answer.

Summer pouted at the little confidence her father had for her.

A whistle blared, summoning the players to the soccer field. The young girl began to jog to her place on the field, but as felt a swell of anxiety as she looked across the crowd. Her steps slowed. Half of these people expected her to do great and win; half of these people hoped for her team – for her – to fail. She glanced back to her family, but her parent's supportive waves gave her little comfort. Summer took a deep breath and walked to her teammates.

The referee gave a winded speech about teamwork and character building. The children on the field silently disregarded the referee's words. Winning did matter. They had trained months for this moment. Soon enough, the game started.

The players sprung into action. They paced up and down the field, tracking the white and black checkered ball. Summer did her best to get close to it, but her attempts led to little success. The teams raced to one side of the field. Dismay colored Summer's team as the ball was kicked into their own goal.

Summer couldn't believe how quickly the round had ended. She slinked back into position, stealing a glance at her parents. Beth and Jerry had sympathetic smiles while her brother watched in blank fascination. Her face became hot with shame.

Another round began with a shrill sound of the referee's whistle. Summer, determined to do better, had been first to snatch the ball. She raced down the field with a smile on her face. She could taste victory. Suddenly, a foot struck her leg with vicious force. Summer should have felt the pain of it, but was numb as the goal blurred and transformed into grass. She hit the ground so hard the wind was knocked out of her.

Summer watched helplessly as the ball was stolen from her sight. She could hear shouting, but the words didn't compare to the buzzing in her ears. The child shakily got back to her feet as another goal was made. Her eyes stung from unshed tears and dust. Summer quickly wiped her face, only accomplishing in smearing dirt over her cheek, before she stalked back to her position.

The redhead wanted to glare at her offender, but she had only caught a glimpse of their legs. Now that the buzzing was gone, the voices that were shouting became clear. It had mostly been her father, but she could now her a more hushed voice that was definitely her mother. She promptly blocked them out once more.

Another round started, and once again Summer got to the soccer ball first. She distanced herself quickly from the other team and headed for their goal. The redhead sensed another player closing in on her, but she wouldn't take another defeat.

As the other child's foot got closer to Summer's leg, the six year old jumped to avoid it. Successful in not falling to the cheater's tricks, she focused all her energy on scoring a point. Her lungs burned and her leg was sore, but Summer gave all she had into a hard kick.

Time seemed to slow as the ball soared through the air. Past the defending player's heads, past the hands of the goalie, before finally it made a satisfying swish as it hit netting. Cheers erupted from the crowd as well as from on the field. Summer's teammates patted her on the back and a few swung a playful punch to her arm. She sighed in relief. Exhaustion made her legs shake and sweat poured down her neck, but she did it. She scored a goal.

Wide, joyful eyes searched the crowd desperately for her parents. They had to have seen her. They must be proud. However, as she searched for their faces, Summer couldn't find them. She looked all around the field – maybe they moved because of the sun – but when she found them, they were far from the game.

Beth and Jerry stood off near the parked cars. They looked like they were arguing as the pointed fingers and waved their arms.

Summer felt a crushing sense of anger and sadness. They couldn't get along for two hours for their daughter's soccer game? The redhead huffed as she began her walk back to center field. The cheers died down, but there was still the pestering, high-pitched sound of a kazoo. Summer furrowed her eyebrows as she searched for the cause of the horrible noise.

When she found the source, her jaw threatened to drop. There, a little past the painted line, was her younger brother. Morty waved his chubby hands in the air as he blew on the plastic noise maker. The spectacle caused a few people to stare, but the toddler didn't falter. Upon noticing that he had caught his sister's attention, he doubled his effort in his celebration.

Summer was shocked by the display. Morty – who had yet to utter a single word and shrunk back at the attention of even family – blew on that plastic toy as if his life depended on it. He did all he could to celebrate Summer's first goal.

The sight gave back Summer's pride and smile. She waved at her brother before she quickly returned to the game.

An hour later, a winning team had been declared.

Summer and her team watched in disappointment as their opponents hugged and high-fived each other. They won the game easily enough with a score of 7 – 1. The redhead felt as if all her energy had been zapped from her body. She didn't even have the willpower to wipe her brow. The losing team trudged back to their families to receive comfort.

"Aw, I'm sorry you didn't win, honey," Beth said, pulling a towel and juice box from the beach bag. Summer took both gratefully before she was also given a short hug.

"Don't feel too bad, those kids were pretty tough. Maybe after some more training you'll get 'em," Jerry remarked, packing up the blanket.

Summer shrugged halfheartedly. She appreciated her parent's words, but there was an underlining numbness to it all. "I'll tell you what though," Jerry commented, "whoever made that goal is one hell of kid."

A bitter retort hung at the tip of tongue, but Summer stayed silent. A small hand clutched her own, drawing the young girl's attention. Summer looked down at her brother and she could have sworn she saw pride in those large eyes. She hummed an agreement to her father's comment, but Jerry and Beth were already walking to their car. She could hear heated whispers between them, but the warm hand holding her own made it bearable.

"Su-um... Summ-or...?"

Summer looked down in surprise and curiosity. "Yeah, Morty?" She whispered back. Part of her felt that her parents would have wanted to hear the toddler's first words, but the timidness in his voice kept her silent.

"Yo-Yous uh wah-w-wha... winnor to me," he squeaked.

Summer grinned down at her brother. "Thanks, Morty. If you think so, it must be true," Summer replied. Who needed her parents anyway? So long as she had her brother, that was all the love she needed.