“No way,” added Allie, shaking her head.
“My grandma has the cutest little dog,” said Gina. “I just melt when he looks at me with those little puppy eyes.”
“Does Dana even have a dog?” asked Julia.
“I don’t think so,” answered Janelle.
She didn’t think so? Janelle knew Dana didn’t have any pets. Did she think Dana wouldn’t have told her if they’d gotten a dog? And why were they talking about her as if she wasn’t even there?
Before Dana could tell them about Buddy and explain what had happened earlier that morning, the girls had already started talking about something else. And there was no way Dana was going to be able to talk to Janelle by herself without it being awkward.
Dana slipped down the hall toward the bathrooms. Dana, Dana, would things ever be normal again-a? She saw a group of girls from grades seven and eight pointing at something on the bulletin board and stopped to see what was so exciting. She peered over heads and shoulders, and when she read the posting her heart leaped. This was her ticket back to the way things were supposed to be. She knew it.
“I put my name on the list,” said Dana, bounding back into the classroom. She was so excited, she couldn’t stand still. “Is anyone else going to? Did you, Amber? McKayla? Nelly, come on—the list is up. Put your name on it!”
“What list?” Janelle asked. “What are you talking about?”
“The volleyball sign-up list. We talked about this all through grade five, how we could finally play on the volleyball team this year, and now the list is up! It’s in the hallway. There are tryouts next week. Come on!”
Janelle’s smile faded. “Dana, I can’t…”
“What do you mean? You love volleyball. Your cast is off. We’ve—” Dana stopped. The cast had only been off for four days. She sucked in her breath. “You don’t think that by next week…” She faltered. “No, I’m sorry, Nelly. I just got too excited. I didn’t think it through. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take my name off.”
Janelle shook her head. “Don’t be silly,” she said softly. “You can still play.”
“But we were going to do it together.”
“I know.” Janelle sighed. “But you can still play. You should play.”
Dana watched as Janelle turned to put her lunch bag away. She walked slowly and still had a definite limp. Why had she brought up volleyball in the first place? What was wrong with her? “Janelle…” she called after her.
Julia moved in beside her. “You know, Dana, I don’t think a real friend would have put her name on that list in the first place.”
“But we were planning to sign up since last year. You don’t understand.”
“I don’t think you understand. Things have changed, Dana. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how sad you’ve made her?”
Can’t you see how sad this makes me? “Nelly said—”
“That’s another thing I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Why do you keep calling her Nelly? Her name is Janelle.”
Dana felt a hard lump form in her throat. “FYI, Julia, I’ve been calling her Nelly since we were in kindergarten.”
Julia crossed her arms. “FYI, Dana, we’re not in kindergarten anymore. Besides, Janelle’s been through a life-threatening, life-changing experience. I don’t think we should be calling her baby names anymore.”
“Well,” Dana said, trying to keep her voice even as she watched Janelle make her way back toward them, “why don’t we let Janelle decide?”
“Okay. Why don’t we?” Julia smiled broadly. “Janelle, Dana and I were just talking about those silly names people used to call us when we were in, like, kindergarten? Remember?”
Janelle smiled. She seemed glad for the shift in conversation. “Ugh,” she said. “Don’t remind me. So embarrassing.”
“Don’t you think it’s time they disappeared for good?”
“Oh,” said Janelle, “I thought they had disappeared.” She shivered. “I just hated that!” She rolled her eyes.
Julia looked at Dana. She didn’t say a word, but the look on her face said, I told you so.
“Hey,” said Janelle, “it’s my turn to feed the fish. Anyone want to help me?
Julia smiled. “Sure.”
Dana didn’t move. Janelle had been through a life-changing experience. Apparently, that meant friend-changing too. Dana didn’t go over to the fish tank. She didn’t go back out to the hallway either. She decided she was going to keep her name on the list for tryouts next week. Practices would give her something new to do at recess.
Dana scanned the list again just before she left the school that afternoon to make sure her name was still there. It was. Hers was the only grade-six name on it.
Ten
ON THE DAY of the tryouts, Dana left the classroom without a word to the other girls. She changed into a T-shirt and shorts and made her way over to the gym. She pulled open the door and peeked inside. There were a dozen or so girls already serving and bumping balls all over the gym and another half dozen tying their shoes, stretching or pulling their hair up into ponytails. Dana sighed. There were plenty of girls here to form a team. They didn’t really need anyone from grade six. She considered leaving, but the shouts and the sound of the volleyballs hitting the floor made her hesitate. She liked volleyball. A lot.
Dana spotted the coach, Mr. Finch, pulling volleyballs out of an enormous mesh bag. “Dana!” he said as he stood up. “Here to try out?”
She nodded.
“Where’s everyone else from your class?”
She shrugged.
“That’s okay. We’re glad you came. We’re just about to get started.” He blew two sharp blasts on his whistle, and all the girls stopped what they were doing and crowded around, balls tucked under one arm. “Okay, ladies,” he called. “I want to welcome you all to volleyball tryouts. Now, they’re called tryouts for a reason—I really want to see everyone trying. Let’s give it our best. All right?”
The girls nodded and cheered.
“Great. Let’s start with some serving. Half of you make a line on this side of the net, and half of you go to the other side. One player from this group will serve the ball over, then one from the other group will catch it and serve it back, okay?”
Dana joined the end of the line on the far side of the gym. That way she could watch for a few minutes before serving. Some of the girls served low, so the ball hit the net and bounced back. They had to run up and catch the ball themselves and roll it over to the other side. Some served high and hit the rafters. Some served sideways and hit the bleachers. But a few were able to serve the ball perfectly. The ball would soar over the net and hit so hard that Dana thought it might make a hole in the floor. “Crater maker!” the girls would yell. Dana’s first serve hit the net, and she felt the heat in her face as she ran to catch the ball. Her second serve went over, but it was soft and would have been easy to return if they’d actually been playing another team. Her third attempt wasn’t bad, but no one yelled crater maker either. What was she doing here?
The whistle blew again. “All right, girls,” said Mr. Finch. “Good job. Now I want you to organize yourselves into groups of three. Make sure someone in your group has a ball. One of you will bump it, one of you will set it, and one of you will tip it over the net. Then switch positions. Got it?”
The girls scattered to form groups with their friends, and Dana was left standing awkwardly beside the coach. Two girls jogged back from the water fountain. “Ah, here we go,” said Mr. Finch. “Dana, here are Lisa Torelli and Emily Van Kamp. Why don’t you three form a group together?”
Uh-oh. The girls were both in grade eight and had wicked serves. No way would they want her in their group. “Okay,” she said.
“Let’s go,” said Emily.
The girls worked together for a while. Dana was pretty good at bumping and setting but discovered she was really good at jumping and tipping the ball over the net.
“Wow, I wish I could jump like tha
t,” said Lisa, coming over to give her a high five.
“Well, I wish I could serve like you do,” said Dana, giving Lisa a high five in return.
“I wish you two would get back to the drill so I can show you again how awesome I am,” said Emily, and they all laughed.
Mr. Finch outlined a few more drills before blowing his whistle to end the tryouts. “Thank you, ladies,” he said. “You’ve worked hard. You know I’d put you all on the team if I could, but I can only have twelve. The list will be up tomorrow morning. Look for it right away, because our first practice will be at lunch. We’re going to have to jump right in. First game is next week!”
Twelve? Yikes. Dana looked around, her dream of playing on the team flickering out. Oh well, she thought. She could always try out again next year.
“See you tomorrow, Dana,” called Emily as she ran by.
Tomorrow? A tiny, stubborn flame of hope flared in Dana’s heart and dared to start burning again.
Eleven
THE NEXT MORNING, Dana rushed to school in hopes of seeing the list before anyone else got there. She didn’t expect to make the team. Still, if her name wasn’t there, she’d rather be alone with her disappointment.
The schoolyard was deserted as she wheeled her bike to the racks. Good. She smoothed her hair, took a deep breath and walked inside. As she walked toward the gym, Dana immediately spotted the list taped to the door, but the names were still too small to read. Her heart began to beat more quickly. She walked the last few steps with her eyes closed, then took a deep breath. She opened one eye. The names blurred together as she scrolled down the list. Dana opened both eyes wide and read it again. Her throat started to hurt. She read it slowly one more time to be sure. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took off down the hallway. Dana unlocked her bike, threw on her helmet and tore down the street, pedaling like crazy. After several minutes, she began to slow down. Finally, she stopped her bike by the side of the road, propped it up against the curb and sat on the grass. She took in a few deep breaths. Then she smiled. She smiled so wide it almost hurt. She laughed out loud. She’d made it. She’d made the team. She was an Eagle.
After a moment, a bike skidded up beside her. “You’re not stuck again, are you?” It was Jason.
“Nope, not today. Look at this stylish Velcro band my mom got me.” Dana patted her shin and grinned. Her lip got hung up on her braces, but she didn’t even care.
“Nice. What’s up? You seem pretty excited about something.”
“I made the volleyball team.”
“Oh yeah? Congratulations. I knew you would.”
“You did?”
“Of course. I’ve seen you play.”
He did?
“And you’re tall. That helps.”
Hmmm. He’d noticed that too.
“Well, are you coming to school or not? Won’t be as much fun without you!” He smiled his bright smile.
Dana’s cheeks flamed. Had he actually just said what she thought he said? “You bet. I’ve got a volleyball practice at lunch.”
“Yeah?”
“And a game next week!”
“What do you say we get going then? It’s pretty cold just sitting out here.”
We? Here it was! Her chance to ride in with Jason Elwood. What a great day this was turning out to be. “I know,” Dana agreed, hopping onto her bike. “My fingers are freezing. My nose too.”
“Yeah, it’s red. It looks kind of like a tomato.”
A tomato? Couldn’t he at least have said a cherry?
Dana had planned to spend most of her time on the bench that first game, but Mr. Finch had other ideas. He had asked Dana to be a blocker because she was tall. This should have made her feel good, but it didn’t. She wanted Jason to keep noticing her, but not because she was a giant! Dana scanned the crowd, but she didn’t see him even though she’d let it slip more than once during the day that there was going to be a game after school.
The team formed a huddle at their bench. “Eagles on two!” shouted Emily.
“One, two, Eagles!” they all shouted in return. “Let’s fly.”
Dana laughed. She almost turned to the girl beside her to give her a high five and shout, “For Janelle!” but she caught herself just in time.
Dana was so nervous, she felt like she was shivering all the time. She wasn’t the only one. The first serve landed in their end without anyone even moving to touch it. “Eagles,” shouted Mr. Finch. “Wake up! Look alive! You look like statues out there. Let’s move!”
When the second serve landed the same way, he called a time-out. “Ladies,” he said when the team gathered near the bench. “You’ve got to loosen up! Come on. Do what I do.” He shook his head from side to side. It looked like he had disconnected it from his neck somehow. He jiggled his cheeks. The girls just looked at each other. Was he serious? “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve only got thirty seconds here.” He shook his head again. No one else did. Mr. Finch stood up very straight and put his hands on his hips. “Let’s go, girls,” he said. “Go crazy or go home! I mean it.” He shook his head again, and this time all the girls did too. He shook out his legs. The girls copied him. He flapped his arms. The girls did the same. Then he did all three at once.
“Good. Now, again,” said Mr. Finch, “with a little more enthusiasm this time.”
By the time the thirty seconds were over, the Eagles were back on the court, red-faced but warmed up and ready. The other team was smirking. A few of them were laughing out loud. Not for long though. The next serve was returned with one bump, and the Eagles went on to win the game easily.
Dana had made a couple of good blocks, and the girls had all cheered her on. That had felt really good, like she belonged. Still, when the game was over, the other girls paired off and Dana biked home by herself. Oh well. She plunked her stuff in the hallway and went to take a shower.
Dana looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She did the head-shaking move Mr. Finch had done, and she laughed. She noticed she had mud splatters on her nose from the bike ride home. As she tried to wipe them off, she saw…oh no. It wasn’t mud. She leaned closer. Pimples! Three of them! Crazy, sticky-up hair, chewed-up jeans that were already almost too short and now pimples on her nose! Her tomato nose. Dana, Dana, is it all in vain-a? What would Jason think now? Just when she was beginning to think she’d gotten his attention, she started to wonder if it might be easier just to be like Neta and blend in.
Twelve
EVERYONE WAS OUT of their seats and talking at once. Mr. Bartholomew was standing near the door with his arms folded across his chest and a big grin on his face. Coming into class this morning, the students had found a huge movie poster of The Wizard of Oz plastered to the blackboard at the front of the room. Mr. B. had just announced that Oz was going to be the school play this year.
“I’m glad to see you’re so excited,” said Mr. B. when the buzz began to quiet down a little. “I knew you would be. Over the next couple of days, I want you to think about what role you’d like to play. You can choose to be a character or a member of the backstage crew, but we’re going to need everyone to be involved somehow. We’ll have auditions in a week or so, and then we’ll assign parts. There will be acting, singing, costumes, makeup, set design and, most of all, a whole lot of fun! All right, everyone to their seats now, please.”
Jason took his seat and leaned toward Dana. “You should try for the lead.”
Dana glanced behind her to see if he was talking to someone else, but there was no one there. “What?” she asked.
“You should try for the lead. In the play.”
“You mean the part of the Wicked Witch?” asked Mickey, sitting over in row three.
“No,” said Jason, shaking his head. “I mean Dorothy. Seriously, I think you’d be great.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He nodded. “You like dogs.” He cocked his head, trying to remember what it w
as she’d said about dogs. “Right? And you’re funny. I’d like to be the Scarecrow, I think, or maybe the Tin Man. Yeah, the Tin Man,” he said with a grin. He looked at Mickey. “Who do you want to be? A Munchkin?”
Dana sat down at her desk. She’d been thinking of signing up for the backstage crew. Should she really try for the lead? Jason thought she could do it. Was this the way to make him keep noticing her? But just what did he mean by funny?
Thirteen
FOR THE NEXT few days, the play was the only thing anyone talked about. Groups of girls walked around outside with their arms linked, chanting, “Follow the yellow brick road.” Or they huddled together at their desks, whispering and cackling like witches. Someone was really good at it. Probably Julia.
Dana didn’t do any chanting or cackling. She felt like she was hovering on the edge of all the excitement. No one was actively excluding Dana, but things just felt different. Her place had always been with Janelle. Now she felt cut off from her roots, rolling around like a tumbleweed.
Jason’s words continued to float around in Dana’s head. Should she try out for the lead? The whole idea made her feel light-headed. It meant learning a lot of lines. It also meant she’d have to sing! Normally, Dana would have asked Janelle her advice, but they weren’t really speaking these days. Julia, on the other hand, had lots to say. She couldn’t stop talking about how Janelle just had to be Dorothy.
“She has such beautiful, long hair that she could wear in pigtails, just like Dorothy,” said Julia.
“But it’s blond,” said Dana.
“So?”
“Doesn’t Dorothy have brown hair?”
“And she has the same bubbly personality.”
At least, she used to.
“Plus she’s so sweet and always trying to help people.”
Is she?
“It’s a big commitment, but I know she could do it.”
Dana bit her lip. “I’ve been thinking I might try out for the part.” It was like all the air went out of the room. Julia didn’t say anything for a moment.
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