Triple Threat

by Mike Lupica

  She turned before she got to the door, raising her voice, although it truly wasn’t necessary. “What’s it like needing a boy to fight your battles?”

  Alex laughed. “Lindsey,” she said. “You wouldn’t recognize true friendship if it bicycle-kicked you in the face.”

  Lindsey had no comeback for that. She huffed and led the other girls out of the cafeteria.

  As she did, Gabe sat down across from Alex.

  And it was as though nothing had ever changed between them.

  31

  Sophie and Alex didn’t have enough time between classes for Alex to give the play-by-play of what had happened at lunch. And when the bell rang at three o’clock, Sophie had to go straight to cheerleading practice. Alex did the same for football. Coach Mencken had moved up the start time of their practice.

  So there was no real dish until they were on the phone after dinner.

  “You want to hear more about how I rendered Lindsey utterly speechless?” Alex said.

  “I already heard about that, loser,” Sophie said, calling out the word Lindsey used to describe her earlier. Not that Sophie cared a lick what Lindsey thought. “I want to know what happened between you and Gabe.”

  “I told you already,” Alex said. “We talked.”

  “I know you talked,” Sophie said. “I want details. Leave nothing out. I’ve got all night.”

  “This has to stay between us,” Alex said, “even though Gabe didn’t strictly forbid me from telling anybody.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Sophie said.

  “Your lips are never sealed!”

  “You know they are on the big stuff,” Sophie said. “So what did he say?”

  “He apologized,” Alex said.

  “He did?” Sophie said. “Wow. Consider me speechless.”

  “I know, right?” Alex said. “He told me he was sorry he hadn’t been the kind of friend I deserved.”

  Alex filled her in on more of the details.

  “I think that’s probably the most Gabe’s spoken all year,” Sophie said.

  “Or possibly ever,” Alex said.

  “Maybe he’s been saving up for the right moment,” said Sophie. “Lindsey must have been stunned.”

  “Honestly, no one was more stunned than I was.”

  “Tell me more,” Sophie said.

  Alex said she told Gabe he didn’t need to apologize, but he insisted. He told her about all the heat he’d been taking from Jeff and Lewis and the other guys who lined up with them—though he knew that was no excuse. It was all the same stuff, he said, that Lindsey had been spreading: it wasn’t about the team; it was about Alex Carlisle, the girl wonder. The guys were constantly in Gabe’s ear, practically forcing him to choose sides. Saying he was either with them or against them.

  “Every time Gabe would try to vouch for me, they’d tease him.”

  “About what?” Sophie said.

  “They’d say, ‘What is she, your girlfriend?’”

  “Typical,” Sophie said, disgusted. “They make it sound worse than having their bikes stolen.”

  “Before we left the cafeteria, I told Gabe if the whole school wasn’t talking about us before, they would be now.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he didn’t care,” Alex said. “That he never should have cared what other people were thinking or saying, and the rest of the way, he just wants us to play football. He wants us to be the best team we can be. And that only an idiot couldn’t see that our best chance at that is with me at quarterback.”

  “Then what happened when you guys got to practice?” Sophie said.

  “We just practiced, like always. The only difference was that Gabe and I stopped trying to avoid each other. We didn’t go out of our way to act all chummy. But I think we’re cool now.”

  “What about Jeff?”

  “Same old,” Alex said. “Every time I catch him looking at me, it’s like he’s trying to glare me back onto the soccer team.”

  “He needs to get a life,” Sophie said.

  “All bark and no bite,” Alex agreed.

  There was a pause.

  “So you forgave Gabe, basically,” Sophie said.

  “I told you,” Alex said. “There was nothing for me to forgive. It’s not like he stole my bike.”

  Sophie giggled. Then in an overly dramatic tone, she said, “What is he . . . your boyfriend?”

  They both had a good laugh.

  32

  The game against the Carrolton Saints took place on the field at their district high school. It was the first time all season that the Owls would play on turf instead of real grass.

  Alex, Gabe, and Jabril were warming up together again. A team within a team.

  During stretches, Alex asked them if playing on turf made them feel faster. She’d never played on turf. Not even for soccer.

  Jabril smiled. His smile always seemed to be a little bigger on game days.

  “The only way I could be faster on a football field,” he said, “is if I were riding a motorcycle.”

  Gabe looked at Alex.

  “Faster maybe,” he said, “but not more modest.”

  What happened next was that they fell behind fast. By two touchdowns.

  The Saints were good. Really good. Not to mention their guys were some of the biggest Alex had seen all season. They didn’t just look as if they belonged on a high school field. They looked ready to play in a high school game.

  Their quarterback, Andrew Kinsler, was no exception. He also played linebacker but was a much better runner than he was a passer. That much was clear after the first quarter. His arm wasn’t as strong as he was, but he was accurate enough with his short passes. He threw one for the Saints’ first touchdown, after they’d recovered a fumble due to a botched handoff between Jeff and Tariq. He ran for their second touchdown after Jeff threw an interception deep into the Saints’ territory, and they went on a long drive that took them all the way down the field.

  Before the second quarter started, Coach told Alex he was putting her in.

  “We’re in the same kind of ditch as we were for the Cardinals game,” Coach said.

  “But this time we’ve got more time to get out of it,” Alex said.

  “Let’s get right after it and see what we can do,” Coach said.

  The first-down play he wanted was a pass to Gabe on the outside. Then a pitch to Tariq. Then another pass to Gabe on a slant.

  She completed her first pass to Gabe, and Tariq gained eight yards on the sweep. First down. Next, she threw low to Gabe, and he went into his slide at just the right moment to make the catch. Another first down. They were moving the chains, moving the ball.

  Jake brought in the next play, a deep ball to Gabe down the middle. But Alex never had the chance, or the time, to get the ball to him. Her blockers picked up every one of the guys blitzing her, except one: Andrew Kinsler.

  He came from her blind side and just leveled Alex. She was proud that after a hit like that she was able to hold on to the ball. When she looked up, Andrew was standing over her. Not saying anything. Not taunting her. Just looking down.

  Then he stuck out a hand, as if to help her up. But just as Alex reached up to take it, he pulled his hand away and sauntered off.

  “Go home and put on a dress,” he said.

  Alex rolled back onto the ground . . .

  And began laughing uncontrollably.

  That stopped Andrew Kinsler, who turned around and said, “You laughing at me?”

  Alex jumped up.

  “You know what, dude?” she said. “I guess I am.”

  “You’ll be laughing yourself right off the field when you lose,” he said.

  “We’ll see,” was all Alex said.

  The ref stepped in then to break up their
bickering. Alex thought about telling the ref she wasn’t the one who started it. But she was afraid she’d sound dumber than Andrew Kinsler.

  Tariq, who’d gotten a quick breather, brought in the next play, a screen pass to him.

  “Good,” Gabe said.

  “Why?” Alex said.

  “You’ll see.”

  Alex dropped back, let the rush come to her like you were supposed to on a good screen pass, turned to her left, and threw the ball to Tariq. He was on Gabe’s side of the field, which turned Gabe into one of his blockers.

  And as Tariq crossed the line of scrimmage, Alex saw why Gabe was eager to run the play. He waited for just the right moment as Andrew Kinsler chased Tariq, then Gabe threw the best block on him any of the Owls had made all season. It was clean, it was legal, Gabe driving his helmet into Andrew’s midsection and sending him flying.

  By the time Tariq stopped running, he’d gained twenty yards. On the next play, Alex handed the ball to Perry Moses, who ran through a hole in the middle of the line wide enough for a tractor trailer and scored. It was 13–6. Alex threw it to Gabe for the conversion, making it 13–7.

  Suddenly things were looking up.

  On their way off the field, Alex said to Gabe, “Got a good feeling about this one.”

  Gabe winked. “Look who’s cocky,” he said, smiling.

  “More like confident,” said Alex.

  On the Saints’ next series, it was Jabril who put Andrew on the ground, causing a fumble that Jabril scooped up and ran in for another Owls touchdown. Alex made a great fake to Tariq on the conversion play, hid the ball beautifully on her hip, ran free into the end zone.

  It was 14–13, Owls.

  They scored two more offensive touchdowns in the second half. By the end of the fourth quarter, it was Jeff Stiles who got to come in as quarterback at the end of a blowout game. The Owls won 27–13.

  The Owls gathered up their water bottles and towels and headed toward the locker room.

  All but Alex and Jabril.

  They sat on the sideline together, while the parents and coaches talked.

  “That guy really told you to go home and put on a dress?” he said in disbelief.

  “Yeah.”

  “So dumb.”

  “I told him.”

  Jabril smiled and said, “You even got a dress?”

  Alex punched him gently in the arm.

  “You don’t always have to stay behind with me, you know,” she said. “I’m sure you’d rather be in the locker room with the guys.”

  “Well, as team captain,” Jabril said, all proud, “I feel it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re not feeling left out.”

  Alex’s stomach sank. “Oh, um. Yeah, that makes sense, I guess,” she said softly.

  Jabril burst out laughing. “Oh man, you really believed that, huh?” Now he elbowed her in the side.

  “No, I don’t know,” she said, half smiling now. “But if I were you, I’d want to be in there with everyone else.”

  “You should know by now that I do what I want,” Jabril said, “and what I want is to talk about the game with our star QB.”

  Alex gave him a doubtful look. “Star QB, huh?”

  “You know it,” he said. “Plus, I don’t wanna hear Jeff whining in there. Dude gives me a headache.”

  Alex snickered. Then Jabril leaned over and banged helmets with her, just like he did with the boys.

  33

  If they won their next two games, they were in the championship. Depending on how the other teams did, they might be able to get in by winning just one.

  Nobody on the Owls was thinking that way.

  Somehow, through the season’s ups and downs, they hadn’t lost a game since their opener. They might not have come together off the field the way Alex had hoped, but on it, they’d certainly found their groove. She’d come to accept the fact that she was never going to win over all the guys on the team, or even most of them.

  But they were winning. And that wouldn’t have happened without her. For now, that would have to be enough. A few weeks ago, she didn’t think she’d make the team, let alone get to play. Now here she was, leading the Owls in victory after victory. It surprised her probably as much as it had anybody else. Her coach, her teammates, the guys from opposing teams. Maybe even her dad. She knew she could compete with the boys, on a level field, which was all she’d ever wanted.

  Now there was proof.

  This wasn’t just the way she wanted sports to feel. It was how she wanted to feel about herself. She could live with the classmates who didn’t like her. She could tolerate the haters if she had to. She’d thought she’d lost Gabe along the way. But she hadn’t.

  And maybe the best thing that had happened, away from the field at least, was her friendship with Sophie Lyons. As much of a cheerleader for the Owls as she was for Alex, it was really Sophie who’d become like a sister to her.

  She was thinking about all these things in her room a week after the game against Carrolton, the night before their final practice leading up to the Washington Falls game, when the doorbell rang. Alex jumped off her bed before she heard her dad yell up from downstairs that he had it.

  She came to the top of the stairs anyway and saw Coach Mencken come through the front door.

  He and her dad exchanged a few words while Jack Carlisle led him toward the couch in the living room.

  They waved Alex over, and she perched on the edge of the armchair where her dad sat, facing Coach.

  “Got something I’d like you both to hear,” Coach Mencken finally said.

  They all chatted for a few minutes, Coach Mencken telling them that he’d never experienced a football season quite like this. And that a lot of it had to do with his old friend Jack’s daughter.

  Jack Carlisle smiled and patted Alex’s knee with pride.

  “Man, there’s been a lot going on with this team that has nothing to do with the kids,” Coach said.

  “How do you mean?” Alex’s dad said.

  “A lot of the early nonsense about Alex has subsided because we’re going good,” Coach said. “But you can’t believe the noise I’m still getting from the parents.”

  “Any in particular?” Jack Carlisle said, knowing full well who it had to be.

  “Bob Stiles has just been wearing me out,” Coach Mencken said. “It’s why I had to finally tell him he couldn’t be near the field during practice or games.”

  Now that he mentioned it, Alex realized she hadn’t seen Mr. Stiles near the field in a while. It never occurred to her why.

  “Bob has pretty much accused me of trying to ruin his son’s life,” Coach said.

  “By making him split time with Alex,” her dad said.

  “He thinks his boy would be the second coming of Tom Brady if I’d just leave him out there,” Ed Mencken said. “Thinks that Alex’s presence on the team is what’s holding back the boy’s development. Top of that, he says the other boys have taken to making fun of Jeff on account of him not being able to beat out a girl.”

  “What did you say to that?” Alex’s dad said.

  “I had to tell him that if his son had beat out Alex, she wouldn’t have gotten the chance to beat him out,” Coach said.

  Alex watched him rub the back of his hand across his forehead. This wasn’t the tough-talking, intimidating coach she saw on the field. He didn’t sound like a coach at all, just an average guy dealing with his own problems. Like Alex had been dealing with her own.

  “Which brings me to why I’m here,” he said.

  He took a deep breath, let it out.

  “I’m thinking about starting you on Saturday against those boys from Washington Falls,” he said.

  Alex was worried both Coach and her dad might hear her heart beating inside her chest or notice the blood rushing to her
cheeks.

  “It’s not just me trying to do right by you,” he said. “I got to do right by everyone on the team. They deserve to have their best chance at winning this thing. And you give us our best chance. Not just when we’re coming up from behind.”

  He nodded at Jack Carlisle and continued. “It’s a short season now. And if during these next few games we get behind and don’t come back, that would be on me, not doing my job.”

  He ran a hand through his hair this time.

  “I’m not one of those coaches who think winning is the be-all and end-all,” he said. “But it’s like I tell all our players before every game: the other team is gonna want to win. We’re allowed to want to win, too.”

  Alex knew he was right. Jabril had told her he thought she should be starting, especially since their last two regular season games were against good teams. They were about to come up against some of the strongest teams in the league. It wasn’t much of a game plan to fall behind by two losses when they were so close to the championship. They’d been through too much and come too far not to have their best players on the field from the start.

  “I didn’t want to do anything until I came over and talked to you first,” Coach said.

  “And we appreciate that, Ed,” Jack Carlisle said.

  Coach Mencken focused on Alex now.

  “So, what do you think?” he said, hands clasped in front of him. He looked at Alex expectantly.

  Jack Carlisle peered up at his daughter. The pride in his face made it hard for Alex to say what she was about to say next.

  She swallowed, pursed her lips, and looked directly at Coach Mencken.

  “Thanks,” she said, “but I don’t think so.”

  34

  “You don’t think so?” her dad said. “Did we just hear you correctly?”

  “Afraid so,” Alex said, letting out a breath.

  “I don’t understand,” Coach said, shaking his head. “You don’t want to start Saturday’s game?”

  “That’s not it,” Alex said. “I want to start in the worst way. But I also know it would be the worst thing that could happen to Jeff.”