When Peter woke up he was excited. Not because Thursday provided ample opportunities for general tomfoolery but because tonight the men’s soccer team was playing.

However by late afternoon, when he had finished his last class of the day, his enthusiasm was waning. Although he had asked nearly all of his friends to join him at the soccer game, all had declined. Melissa had also refused, citing dinner with her sister, as an excuse.

So when it came time to go to the game, Peter knew he only had one person left he could count on going with him.

“Soccer, huh?” said Walter, sitting on his futon watching “Seinfeld.” “I don’t know, man.”

“Come on,” pleaded Peter. “Be a ‘come with guy’.”

Walter was not sure exactly why that phrase was so powerful to him, but it was. “All right,” he said. “I’ve decided to go.”

“Great,” exclaimed Peter.

“But hold on,” said Walter, “not till the end of the episode.”

Later that evening, as Peter and Walter walked to the soccer fields, Walter brought up the only topic they had not discussed in a while: Melissa.

“So how are things going with Melissa?” asked Walter. “I haven’t heard you talk about her in a while.”

“Well, unfortunately,” started Peter, “I think it’s going to be one of those things that seemingly starts well only to flounder. But I’m not ready to throw in the towel yet.”

“That’s too bad,” said Walter. “I was looking forward to meeting her.”

“You haven’t met her, yet?” said Peter, surprised. “I’ll tell you what. When the game ends, we’ll swing by her room. She’ll probably be done eating with her sister by then.”

“Sounds good.”

Upon entering the stadium, Peter and Walter were glad to see that they were, thankfully, not alone. A fair number of supporters had shown up; but still, the turnout was disappointing.

“Do you want to sit with these guys?” asked Walter, pointing to a familiar face in the stands. “I think I recognize the one on the right from that pilgrimage course I took last spring.”

“Naw,” responded Peter. “I fancy sitting near the middle of the pitch: better view.”

“Fancy? Pitch?” said Walter, following Peter.

“Bloody right,” said Peter in the best British accent he could muster. “The best place to watch a game of football is in the center of the park. In most cases it’ll set ya back a few quid so you best take advantage, mate. Matches are always free here, and there are always good seats.”

The crowd grew restless for a moment and let out a collective gasp. An opposing player just split the defense and nearly scored the first goal of the game.

“Ah, bollocks,” continued Peter. “Our defense is all sixes and sevens. Let’s pick it up, lads!” Peter directed a few claps of encouragement toward the team.

“You can drop that now,” suggested Walter.

“Right-o,” mocked Peter before taking his seat.

After a few minutes of watching the action on the field, Walter became curious about the atmosphere around him. He had always imagined soccer games as much rowdier events. However, the only glimpses of soccer he had ever witnessed were World Cup games and Italian soccer riots. And the stands are always more full at those events.

“So is this a good turnout?” asked Walter.

“Uh . . . yeah, unfortunately,” said Peter. “It’s a shame too. Not every university is blessed with such a high-caliber team.

“People are willing to go to see our football team flounder against less-than-mediocre opponents, but they won’t go watch our soccer team fight perennial power Indiana or national champion UCSB. We even defeated Virginia earlier this year in a 5-1 rout. Case in point, a preseason poll on the school’s athletics Web site revealed that the majority of voters did not care how the soccer season would go.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” interjected a girl wearing a No. 14 Liverpool jersey. “Oh, sorry. I thought you would recognize me. I was in your group at Corral.”

“Oh . . . right,” said Peter, searching desperately for her name. “Favorite color, green. Favorite candy, Kit Kat.”

“Right!” she said enthusiastically.

Luckily for Peter, Walter sensed his dilemma and came to his rescue: “Hi, I’m Walter.”

“Hi,” she replied, shaking his hand. “Liz.”

“You know,” began Walter. “You’re rather exotic looking.”

“I know. It’s hard to believe my dad wasn’t a G.I.,” she quipped.

“An ‘Office’ fan,” said Walter. “Good. ‘Cuz I’m pretty sure that joke wouldn’t have gone over too well otherwise. You’re all right with me Liz.”

“Glad to have your approval.”

As the game progressed, a few goals were scored and a few spectacular plays were made. But more importantly, the three of them started to get along really well, that is, the conversation came easily. By the final whistle, they had all agreed to hang out after the game.

“So how’d ya like it?” asked Peter.

“A lot, actually,” said Walter. “It was a lot of fun.”

“Good,” said Peter. “So you’re going to come to a few more with me then?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“As will I,” said Liz.

“Glad to hear it,” said Peter. “It’ll be nice not struggling to find someone to go to soccer games with.”

Later, outside the stadium in the parking lot, still immersed in conversation with Walter and Liz, Peter spotted someone he had, at least for the moment, put out of his mind: Melissa.

Seeing her, he abruptly left Walter and Liz and walked over to her. They followed.

“Hey, Melissa,” greeted Peter. “How was dinner with your sister?”

Surprised to see him, Melissa tried to play off her shock and respond immediately. “Oh, hey, Peter,” she replied. “I’m actually just headed out to meet her.”

“Dressed like that?” interjected Liz. Melissa was wearing a rather revealing, low-cut and incredibly stunning cocktail dress.

“Who are you?” asked Melissa rather defensively.

“Oh, uh, Melissa, this is Liz,” said Peter anxiously. “And this is Walter.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Walter, trying to quell the tension.

Melissa, however, paid no attention to Walter’s greeting. Her attention was solely focused on Liz. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. In fact, it looks like you’re wearing your best,” stated Liz. “All I’m saying is your best suggests another kind of guest.”

Melissa did not take kindly to what Liz was implying. However, before the tension could escalate, Peter butted in.

“Alright,” said Peter nervously. “Well, I guess you should be off to meet your sister, then. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Nice to meet you, Melissa,” said Walter.

But Melissa was too stunned by the words of Liz to respond.

“Come on, Liz,” said Walter. “We’ll walk you back.”

After Peter, Walter and Liz had walked for a while in silence, Liz felt she needed to apologize. “Sorry for saying all that back there,” she stated. “I was overstepping my bounds.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Peter in a daze. “It needed to be said . . . or at least brought to my attention.” Peter looked back over his shoulder, watching Melissa drive off in her red convertible. And he couldn’t help but wonder where Melissa was actually going.