Along for the Ride

by Rachel Meinke

  Marci and I both jumped for it, but my head connected with it before hers, sending the ball back in our direction.

  “You may have the speed,” I said, once we were both back on the ground, “but I have everything else.”

  “You wish,” Marci spat. “Don’t think this is over, Jackson.”

  The ball was crossed, and Jenica jumped up and headed it into the goal. I let out a screech, jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Nice goal,” I said, jogging up to meet her. “I think we’re looking at the next Abby Wambach.”

  “I don’t want to brag,” Jenica said, “but I do believe my head is blessed.”

  We returned to our positions, ready to finish out the game. The blues ended up winning 2–1, and the losing team had to run sprints.

  “You girls have two hours before lights out!” one of the coaches called.

  We trooped back to our dorm building, eager to catch what was left of Drama Llama.

  “I love it here,” Jenica confessed. “I love the level of competition.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. “It’s definitely a challenge, and sometimes I really hate Coach Muldenhower, but I don’t think I ever want to leave.”

  LOS ANGELES, CA

  CHAPTER 16

  Another Beep Test. A chance at redemption.

  “This is your final chance to prove to me why you deserve a spot on this team!” Coach Muldenhower called, as the next beep went off.

  I sprinted to the other cone, determined to win this time.

  There were only four of us left: me, Marci, Jenica, and another girl. Then there were three, and then . . . it was between Marci and me again.

  “And we’re down to our last two!” Coach Muldenhower called, as the beep went off.

  Marci and I sprinted to the cone, and I was determined not to slip this time. This went on for several agonizing minutes, neither one of us caving. And then, miraculously, Marci slipped as we were taking off toward the opposite cone. I pulled in a deep breath, feeling my lungs expand to their capacity as I realized that I was the overall winner.

  “Congratulations!” Coach Muldenhower boomed at me. “Cool down and then hit the locker rooms for some ice baths.”

  I did a quick cooldown before heading to catch up with Marci.

  As someone who had lost by a slip before, I knew how shitty it felt to be bested by someone due to a mistake versus a competition.

  “What do you want?” she spat.

  “To say I know how you feel,” I said, with a shrug. “That was me last time. I’m sorry.”

  She quickened her pace. “No, you’re not.”

  “I really am.” I caught up with her again, my legs on fire. “I’m not some soccer robot. I do have feelings for other people.”

  “Is that supposed to be some sort of dig?” she snapped.

  “Maybe,” I shot back. I immediately regretted it. “No, it’s not supposed to be a dig. I was trying to be nice.”

  “I don’t need your pity,” Marci said, ripping the locker room door open. “So go away.”

  My body was too physically tired to continue arguing. “Okay.” I fell back, letting her race ahead.

  Why did she have to be so infuriating?

  Jenica held up a black dress. “I think this would look good on you?”

  “Me? In a dress?”

  She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowing. “It’s a banquet, Katelyn. It never hurt anyone to wear a dress.”

  “You can’t show up in jeans,” Nancy added. “This is a big deal.

  And we all know you made the final team.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not so confident.”

  Nancy and Jenica shared an exasperated look.

  “Put on the dress,” Jenica said. “You’re impossible, I swear.”

  The dress was tight through the waist, and then flared out at the bottom, ending midthigh. It had two thick tank-top straps at the top, and the back was open.

  “That looks so much better on you than it ever did on me,” Jenica said. “Sandals? Flats? What are we feeling? I know you won’t do heels.”

  There was no way I could balance in heels.

  “Why did you pack so many options?” I asked, as she removed some shoes from her suitcase.

  “There’s no such thing as overpacking, Kate. You always have to be prepared.”

  My duffel bag contained a variety of sports bras, T-shirts, and running shorts. As well as one pair of jeans. Clearly I didn’t get the overpacking gene.

  “I feel like you’re one of those people who can rock a sneaker-and-dress look,” Jenica said. She handed me a pair of black-and-white Converse. “Try these.”

  Our dorm room door opened as I was slipping on the shoes, and Jenica’s mom came in. “You can’t answer a phone call?”

  Jenica let out a squeal, running into her mother’s arms. “I’m sorry!

  I was helping Kate with a fashion crisis.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Jenica’s mom said, kissing the top of her head. She flashed me a smile. “Of both my girls.”

  I stood in front of the full-length mirror as Jenica and her mom caught up, taking in my reflection. My hair fell straight around my shoulders, the dress accentuating a figure I didn’t know I had. And Jenica was right, the sneakers were more my style. I was used to being sporty and athletic. But today, I felt pretty. Feminine. A little outside of my comfort zone, but I liked it.

  “What kind of food is down there?” Jenica asked her mom.

  “Your heaven,” she said. “A barbecue buffet.”

  My mouth watered as my stomach growled.

  “So much for all that conditioning,” Jenica said, patting her stomach. “My toned abs were nice for three days.”

  Over the next hour, parents showed up for Marci and our fourth roommate. I put on my fake smile for them, trying to cover up the hurt that my parents didn’t show up. Because it really stung.

  “Ready to go?” Jenica asked me.

  I clasped the soccer necklace Zach had given me around my neck and then smiled. “Yeah.”

  “That’s so pretty,” Jenica breathed, running her fingers over my necklace. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Zach gave it to me.”

  Jenica gasped. “Oh my God, of course he did.”

  We went downstairs, meeting up with the rest of the girls. My ribs felt as though they were caving in as I looked at all of the girls and their supportive parents.

  An elbow nudged into my side, and I looked over at Jenica, who was staring at me with a curious expression.

  “What?” I asked.

  I followed her gaze toward the dorm room building door. My mom was standing there, her eyes flickering around the room.

  “Mom?” I asked.

  “Katelyn!” She looked just as excited to see me as her voice grew louder. I ran over to meet her, throwing my arms around her.

  “Who is this woman?” she asked, holding me at arm’s length.

  “You look beautiful, dear.”

  “You came,” I said, tears building in my eyes.

  My mom had actually come to support me.

  “Of course I came,” she said. “It’s your banquet night. I couldn’t miss that.”

  “What about the tour?”

  “Your father’s a capable man, I’m sure he can handle it.” She took my hand in hers. “Now let’s go find some food.”

  We walked to the banquet hall with Momma Terry and Jenica.

  “How has the Showcase been?” Mom asked, as we found our seats in the banquet hall.

  “Tough,” I admitted, sitting between her and Jenica. “But hope-fully it’s all worth it.”

  My mom clasped her hands on the table, leaning toward me. “So if you make the final team, your first game is in three days, correct?”

  “Three days,” I said, wiggling my fingers. “Here in L.A.”

  “Of course I’m packed to stay,” she said. “As I already know you’ve made the team. And I’m so, s
o excited for your tour with the team!”

  I had the entire schedule memorized. “We get to play one game in L.A., and then one in London and one in Paris,” I explained, “and our coach will be the coach from the U.S. Women’s National Team!”

  “How exciting,” Mom squealed.

  After we grabbed our delicious barbecue feast from the buffet, the lights in the room dimmed, and I turned to face the podium with a makeshift stage. A woman stood up there and welcomed us to the Limitless Apparel Showcase and then thanked us for suffering through the camp.

  “We’re going to call the names of the eighteen girls who have made our Elite Team,” the lady announced. “When your name is called, we need you to come to the stage, shake all the hands on your way, and then stay on stage until all the names have been called.”

  Mom reached over to me, squeezing my shoulder in support as my stomach churned in anticipation.

  “We’re going to start with offense and work our way back to goalie,” the lady announced.

  Jenica was anxiously holding her mom’s hand next to me, her eyes filled with tears.

  “The first thing we noticed about this girl was her technique,”

  the lady started. “She has great footwork and amazing stamina.

  Everyone give a round of applause for Kimberly Grant.”

  We clapped as the girl stood up. She was the striker who’d given me the hardest time with her footwork.

  “This next girl has fire,” the lady said. “She’s a goal-scoring machine, and some of the coaches believe she could be the next Abby Wambach with her header goals. Please welcome Jenica Terry.”

  I jumped up out of my seat, screaming as she made her way to the stage, tears in her eyes. The lady continued to announce players through the strikers and midfielders before reaching the defense.

  “This next girl has containment skills like you wouldn’t believe,”

  the lady announced. “It’s almost impossible to get around her. Please welcome Nancy Torino.”

  I flashed her a thumbs-up as she took the stage.

  “Our final defender,” the lady said, “is truly something special.

  She’s one of the fastest girls on the field, and one of the most aggressive. There isn’t a ball that’s getting past her. She’s willing to lay her life down for the game. Please give a round of applause to Katelyn Jackson.”

  I could faintly hear the cheers around me, but my heart was soaring as I ascended the stairs to the stage. I numbly shook the hands of the people along the way and accepted the medal put around my neck and the plaque put into my hands.

  “I told you it was our time!” Jenica squealed, giving me a tight hug as I took my spot alongside the others.

  The lady called out two goalies, and as I mentally counted the girls, I realized it was only seventeen.

  “There’s one spot left,” the lady said. “This spot was tough to fill.

  This girl brought a certain fire to the field, something that couldn’t be ignored. A level of competitiveness that brings out the best of those around her. Our final spot goes to Marci Adams.”

  Of course.

  That night, my mom insisted that she pack up my stuff to make sure she got everything. As I scrolled through my phone, I realized I never responded to Zach. I’d left Zach Matthews on Read.

  “Jenica!” I screeched.

  She dropped her cleats in surprise.

  “Katelyn!” my mom called out, in a scolding tone. “Relax.”

  “Jenica, the text.”

  Confusion crossed her face, quickly replaced by a panicked expression. “Oh no.”

  “What do I say now?”

  How do I explain to Zach Matthews that I’d accidentally never responded to his text? She came over and reread the text with me.

  hi it’s zach. connor gave me your number.

  “All you can do is change your number and pretend you never got it,” Jenica said.

  Of course that would be her response. “You’re no help.”

  “Or you could respond and apologize profusely. And you should send him that picture of you earlier tonight with the necklace. That’ll distract him.”

  Jenica had forced me to take a photo in the outfit from the banquet, and you could see the necklace he gave me shining around my neck.

  “Let me draft it,” Jenica said. “I promise I won’t send it.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  She opened her mouth, and then quickly snapped it shut. “Fair enough.”

  I’m so sorry! I read your text before a game and was going to respond afterward. I’m the worst kind of friend.

  “Don’t call yourself a friend,” Jenica said. “He’s clearly into you.”

  “He’s clearly into someone else.”

  She let out a frustrated groan. “You’re so dense, Katelyn. Delete the friend part.”

  I’m so sorry! I read your text before a game and was going to respond afterward. I’m the worst kind of person.

  “Better,” she said. “Now you’re going to double text him to show how sorry you are. So send that one, and then send the picture next.”

  My finger hovered over the send button, my heart flipping in my chest. I couldn’t explain why I was so nervous, but the thought of sending a text to Zach Matthews sent me into a panic.

  And then Jenica pressed it for me before I had time to think about it.

  “Jenica!” I screeched.

  “Katelyn!” my mom scolded, once again.

  “Sorry, sorry.”

  Jenica took my phone from me, pulling up the photo from earlier.

  “And now we thank him.”

  “Don’t you dare send it without letting me—”

  She handed my phone back to me. “Too late. Sent.”

  “And this is why I don’t trust you.”

  She’d sent the picture of me from earlier tonight. And then a follow-up text. Like it? ;)

  “Jenica!”

  This time my mom stopped what she was doing to turn and face me. “There are other people in this building, Katelyn. What in the world is going on?”

  “Jenica is ruining my life.”

  “I’m fixing it,” Jenica corrected. “I took the step she wouldn’t take.”

  My mom shook her head in disapproval. “You two girls fight like sisters, I swear.”

  “I can’t believe you sent that,” I said, staring at the winky face.

  “I’m going to die of embarrassment.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you ready to go?” Jenica’s mom asked, coming into the room.

  “The taxi’s here.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Jenica said, with a wave.

  “There’d better be news.”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  She wrapped her arms around me. “I love you!”

  “I’m so mad at you.”

  She called over her shoulder as she left. “I want all the juicy details!”

  I looked back down at my phone, staring at the Sent receipt underneath the text. No text bubbles. No response. This was going to be the longest wait of my life. My mom called for a taxi to take us home. I wouldn’t even have the chance to see Zach after that text message.

  He was never going to talk to me again.

  LOS ANGELES, CA

  CHAPTER 17

  Nothing felt better than a full night of sleep back home in my own bed. My mom was making breakfast when I came downstairs, the smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

  “I love you,” I said, as I sat down on a bar stool at the kitchen island. “This smells so good.”

  She blew me a kiss, and then pointed to her Bluetooth. I grabbed myself a glass of milk as she talked on the phone.

  “Okay, I’ll see you then,” she said. “Love you. Bye now.”

  “Was that Connor?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Your dad.” She came around and kissed my forehead. “Good morning.”

  “I’m s
o excited for pancakes.”

  “Some things never change.” She flipped the pancake in the pan.

  “I used to make you and Connor Saturday morning breakfast every weekend. And the two of you would fight over what you wanted every single time.”

  I’d forgotten about Saturday morning breakfast fights. “Connor for French toast, me for pancakes.”

  “You almost always won,” she said. “You sure do know how to get your way. You must get that from your momma.”

  “What did Dad want?” I asked.

  “Your soccer game is between the New Orleans and Orlando shows, so he and Connor are going to fly in for the game.”

  That couldn’t be right. “Dad and Connor are going to fly here from Louisiana to see my game?”

  “Connor’s idea.”

  Wow. I didn’t know how to quite react to the fact that Connor was going to hop on a five-hour flight to come and watch me play.

  Connor never came to see me play. Neither did my dad for that matter.

  “And this wasn’t under your influence?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I was always going to come to your game, of course. But Connor said he wanted to come, and of course your father is excited to see you play too.”

  I highly doubt that. But I appreciated the lie nonetheless. “Wow.”

  She handed me a plate, two pancakes stacked on top. “Next batch is cooking.” My mom knew me too well.

  As I dug into my pancakes, my phone buzzed on the counter next to me. I glanced down to see Zach’s name on my home screen.

  My fork dropped out of my hand in surprise. Zach had not only read the winky face text, but had actually responded. My hands shook in anticipation as I opened up my text messages. Hopefully he didn’t think I was being too forward.

  beautiful, as always.

  I let out a loud gasp, causing my mom to look over at me in alarm. “Are you choking?”

  Zach Matthews called me beautiful. I didn’t know how to react, let alone how to respond.

  “I need to call Jenica.”

  The entire team was staying at a hotel that had been booked by the Elite team, which meant I had to pack another duffel bag to drive fifteen minutes down the street.

  So much for sleeping in my own bed anymore.