The Boyfriend Game

by Stephie Davis

  His shoulders relaxed at my words, and he fell in next to me as I walked. Then after a minute or two, he cocked his head. “What’s so wrong with me?”

  I rolled my eyes while I tried to come up with a reason that he’d believe. “Because…you’re like a girl.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  I coughed to stifle a laugh. “You’re like one of my girlfriends, except you like sports as much as I do. I can talk about anything with you, and we have fun and stuff.” I nodded. “Yep, you’re like a girlfriend with hairy legs.”

  “A girlfriend with hairy legs?” he repeated, his voice slightly elevated.

  “Yeah. And you smell worse than girls after soccer, but other than that, it’s pretty much the same.” I had to turn away from the look of horror on his face so he didn’t see me crack up. Pride salvaged, I guess. I yanked open the door to the gym and he grabbed it as I stepped inside.

  He was looking at me, like he couldn’t quite figure me out. “You’re some kind of piece of work, Trisha.”

  I managed a cheeky grin that I didn’t believe. “With compliments like that, is it any wonder you’re like a girlfriend? That’s not the kind of thing a guy would say to a girl.”

  He frowned, but didn’t reply.

  Inside, all I wanted to do was shrivel up and die. It was over between us. We’d kissed, it had been awesome, and he still wanted to run away from me. The only thing that salvaged our relationship was the fact I’d called him a girlfriend with hairy legs.

  How truly pathetic. I stopped outside the girls’ locker room, where I could hear my teammates laughing and giggling. “I gotta go.”

  He grabbed my arm before I could open the door. “Why? Why are you ditching me this week? Just because of a kiss? I don’t get it. I didn’t think you were the type to get all worked up about things like that.”

  I looked at him, with his brown hair all messed up and his intense green eyes, and for the first time wondered what I was doing liking him. I mean, seriously, should I really waste my time liking a guy who would freak out at the thought of me liking him? A guy who hadn’t noticed I was a girl even after I was dressed like a total babe on Friday night?

  It was time to stop liking him. I deserved more than to have to spend time around him, watching every word I said in case I scared him off, being miserable because I couldn’t stop liking him and he didn’t like me. “Oh, I’m a girl, Graham. You just haven’t noticed.” Then I shoved open the door to the locker room and let it slam shut in his face.

  12

  The next two days were even worse. I avoided Sara and Beth, and ducked into the bathroom once when I saw Graham walking toward me when I was on my way to English class. I arrived at the last second to classes and took off at the first minute the class was over, so Sara and Beth wouldn’t have to make up a reason not to talk to me.

  I went to practice. I busted my butt. And I tried not to notice Kirk and Ross there, cheering on Sara and Beth.

  I didn’t go to the field where Graham and I used to practice. I wanted to sneak over to “our” field to see if he was waiting for me. I wanted to, so badly.

  But I didn’t.

  I couldn’t. Hanging out with him right now…I couldn’t take it.

  The thought of spending time with him and not having him even acknowledge I was a girl…it was just too awful.

  So I talked my mom into buying me a bunch of cones of my own, and I took a couple of balls and cones and practiced at the middle school on Tuesday and Wednesday. It sucked, I was so lonely, but I wasn’t about to give up on varsity, and I couldn’t bear the thought of all my friends and Graham seeing me by myself, like some pathetic loser.

  So I was a pathetic loser in private. Much better.

  I was so bummed out that it didn’t even help when my dad stopped by the house to drop off new cleats for me. I knew my mom must have called him and told him how miserable I was, so he’d brought the shoes.

  All it made me do was think of Graham—how he’d said that my dad probably really did care but was just too busy.

  I needed my dad, and he’d delivered, just like Graham had said.

  Wednesday night, I was sitting on my bed, picking grass out of my new cleats, and I thought of calling Graham to tell him that he’d been right about my dad. Graham would want to know. He’d be happy for me.

  I picked up my phone and pulled up Graham’s number.

  Stared at it.

  Then hung up.

  Polished my cleats.

  Eyed my phone.

  Opened it again.

  Pulled up Graham’s number.

  Then I hit SEND.

  Then I disconnected and threw my phone on my pillow. I needed to stop obsessing!

  It rang five seconds later, and I dove for it, my heart jumping when I saw it was Graham. I flipped it open. “Hello?” My voice sounded breathless, and I cringed.

  “Did you just call?”

  I flopped back on the bed at the sound of his voice. Deep, soft, perfect. “Yeah. I was just going to tell you that my dad surprised me with new cleats for tryouts on Friday.”

  “That’s awesome.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and suddenly I felt totally upset again. I so wasn’t over him. “See? Nothing to worry about, Trisha.”

  “Yeah.” I twirled my hair around my finger. “So, that’s it. I’ll, um, talk to you later.”

  “Wait!”

  I put the phone back to my ear. “What?”

  “Listen, Trisha, I screwed up with the kiss thing, and I’m sorry.”

  I said nothing. What was there to say?

  He groaned and I heard something crash, like he’d kicked something over. “Come on, Trisha. Can you cut me a little slack? I want to be friends. Can’t we be friends?”

  Friends. What an ugly word. “I don’t think so. Not right now.”

  “Give it tomorrow. We’ll practice and see how it goes. You do want to make varsity, don’t you?”

  I pressed my lips together and nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah.”

  “So, let’s do it. You need me.”

  “No.” I lifted my chin. “I don’t need you, actually. I think I have to do it on my own from now on. If you want a friend, go hang out with Ashley. I’m sure she’d be happy to kiss you and have it mean absolutely nothing.” And then I hung up and tossed my phone aside. I deserved more than what he could give me, and I didn’t need a pity practice from him.

  I was wearing my new cleats and walking across the field to JV practice on Thursday when I felt someone fall into step beside me. No, there was someone on both sides of me.

  I dragged my gaze off the ground and looked up. It was Sara and Beth. One on either side. Trapping me. “What do you want?” I snapped.

  “To apologize,” Sara announced.

  I shot her a disbelieving look. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope.” She and Beth exchanged glances. “See, I’ve been sort of hanging out with Kirk this week.”

  I kicked at a tuft of grass and kept walking. “I noticed.”

  “He likes me.”

  “Great.”

  “And it’s because of you.”

  I looked up at that. “What?”

  Sara shrugged, looking sheepish. “He told me about your conversation at Pop’s with him. How you told him I was actually cool, if he’d just look for it. Because of what you said, he noticed me. And because of what you told me about acting dumb around him, when he did start paying attention, I dropped the act.” She smiled, her eyes bright with happiness. “So now, we’re…kind of dating. And I owe you for it. So I love you and I’m sorry. Really. I’ve been a jerk.” She slung her arm over my shoulder. “And the cool thing is, that when I started working hard this week on soccer to bust you, I realized how much I love the game. It’s fun to sweat! So you got me the guy and helped me realize what I wanted. And I’m so sorry for how badly I treated you.”

  “I’m thrilled for you,” I mumbled. Or I would be, if she
weren’t stealing all my dreams.

  Her smile faltered. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you happy for me? Do you want me to kiss your toes or something?”

  Toe kissing wasn’t going to cut it. “No, it’s fine.”

  They both frowned at me.

  “Are you still mad?” Sara asked. “I meant it when I said I was sorry. Since when do you hold a grudge?”

  I shook my head as we approached the field for our last JV practice before tryouts happened tomorrow. “No, it’s other stuff.”

  “Like Graham?” Beth asked.

  I shot her a look. “What do you know about Graham? Did he say something to you?”

  “No, but I noticed you guys weren’t practicing this week. What’s up?”

  Coach Merrill blew her whistle for us to do a warm-up lap around the field, and we fell in together in the back.

  Sara bumped me with her shoulder. “So? What’s going on?”

  I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I actually did want to talk about it, but I was still too mad about their betrayal to tell them. I mean, yeah, she apologized, but it wasn’t enough. I was still mad. So I sped up and left them behind, and I could hear them whispering behind me.

  I didn’t care.

  After a few seconds, they caught up with me again. “So, we’re going to stay and practice with you tonight,” Sara announced.

  I snorted. “It’s Thursday night. Pop’s night. You never stay late on Thursdays, especially now that you have a boyfriend.”

  “We’re staying,” Sara said firmly. “I’ve been hanging out with Coach Merrill and eavesdropping, and I know it’s between you and Kathleen for the second spot. And I know what her weakness is, and I know what yours is. And I can help you fix it tonight.”

  I was completely unable to stop the hope from flaring in my chest. “Oh, come on.”

  She grabbed my arm and tugged me to a stop so I was facing her. “I’ll stay here all night if that’s what it takes to help you make varsity. I owe you.”

  I inspected her. She looked serious. “You’re the number one spot?”

  “Yeah, but if you don’t make it, I’ll drop out so you can have my spot.” She put her hand over her heart. “I swear on the watery grave of my dead goldfish Herman that I’ll drop out if I make it and you come in third.”

  That got my attention. To invoke Herman was way serious. “But I thought you just said that you realized you wanted varsity?”

  “I do, but I owe you. I’ll walk away if I need to. Herman Swear.”

  I stared at her, my throat getting tight. I could tell that Sara was totally serious about how much she wanted varsity, and she was willing to Herman Swear her spot over to me if it came down to that. I nodded my acceptance of her apology. “Thanks.”

  “So, am I forgiven?”

  I nodded. “Only because of the Herman Swear.”

  Beth gave a small whoop of joy and threw her arms around both of us. “I’m going to miss you guys so much when you both make varsity!”

  I hugged them both back, and Sara did too. “You guys are the best,” I said. “Even if I did hate you earlier in the week.”

  “Ditto,” Sara laughed.

  Coach Merrill blew her whistle. “Girls! Aren’t you supposed to be running?”

  We giggled and started running again, hopelessly behind the rest of the team. And for the first time since Saturday, I felt better.

  But I still couldn’t keep myself from checking out Graham’s field after practice to see if he was there.

  He wasn’t. “Our” field was empty.

  All week, I’d thought that he was still there, practicing. Hoping I’d show up.

  But he wasn’t. I’d cut him off, and he’d let me.

  It was now officially over between us. Even as friends, it was no more.

  And I felt like my heart was going to break.

  13

  We practiced until almost eleven o’clock Thursday night. My mom came and brought us dinner, and then hung out while we practiced. By the time I went to bed, I was so unbearably tired that I almost didn’t lie awake thinking about the tryouts and Graham and Sara and Kirk and everything else. Almost.

  And then it was Friday.

  The morning of the day of the tryouts.

  And then it was Friday afternoon, and it was time for tryouts.

  I walked out onto the field, flanked by Sara and Beth, my nerves in knots. The JV girls practice was going to be combined with the varsity girls practice, but Beth and her group were going to be separate.

  Sara and I were going to be matched with a varsity girl. I scanned the fields as we approached. Kirk and Ross were sitting in the bleachers and they gave us a thumbs-up.

  But no Graham.

  I searched again, fighting against the disappointment. I’d been so certain he would come. This is what we’d been working for together. How could he not be here to support me?

  But he wasn’t there. He simply wasn’t there.

  “Who are you looking for?” Sara asked.

  “No one.”

  “Duh, she’s looking for Graham,” Beth said. “What’s up with you guys? You still haven’t told us anything.”

  I shook my head and steeled myself against the wave of misery. “Today is about soccer.” No way was I going to screw up tryouts because I was bumming about Graham. “The varsity coach is here.”

  Coach Young stood next to Coach Merrill, with a clipboard in her hand.

  Suddenly I felt nauseated. I stopped where I was. “I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can.” Sara grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the bench, but I twisted out of her reach, my hands shaking.

  “No, I can’t. What if I screw up?” I set my hands on my thighs and bent over, trying to catch my breath from my chest, which had suddenly gotten tight. I’d worked so hard for it, and now it was here. “I screwed up so badly at the last practice with them. This is my last chance.”

  “So, if you fail, you’ll be on JV with me and we’ll have fun,” Beth said. “What’s so bad about that?”

  “It’s just…” I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. They didn’t understand. No one would understand how important this was.

  I felt a hand on my back, then someone leaned next to me.

  My heart leaped, and my eyes popped open. “Graham?”

  But it was my mom. She squatted next to me and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be great. You’re good enough. You don’t even have to play your best and you’ll make it.”

  I stared at her, the tension in my body beginning to ease. “What if I can’t play?”

  She smiled. “You’ll be fine.” She held out her cell phone. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

  I grabbed the phone. “Graham?”

  “Hey, Trisha,” my dad said. “How you doing?”

  “Dad?” I frowned. “Why are you calling me?”

  “Because I couldn’t make it there, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you. You’ll do great.”

  I kicked a tuft of grass and took a deep breath. He was right. I could be great. “I can do this.”

  “You bet you can. How about dinner Sunday night?”

  I lifted my head. “Really? Dinner with you and me?”

  “Yep. To celebrate making varsity.”

  I grinned. “Okay.” Coach Merrill blew her whistle. “I gotta go. Bye.”

  I hung up and handed the phone back to my mom, feeling better already. Sara slung her arm over my shoulder. “Okay, Trisha, here’s the thing. Last time you screwed up because you were trying too hard. All you need to do is focus, like you do in practice. Think about the ball and the game, not about varsity or anything like that.” She tapped her head. “Your problem is that you’re too intense out there. I’m better because I relax and go with the flow and let myself succeed instead of forcing it.”

  I eyed her, rolling her advice over in my mind. It made sense. “Thanks.”

  “Let�
��s go kick some butt, okay?” She gave me a smile that was all attitude.

  Her expression fired me up. “You got it.”

  We strode up to the group of varsity girls, and when Coach Young assigned me to pair up with the same varsity chick as last time, the one who had dominated me, Sara leaned over and whispered: “You’re as good as she is. Believe it, and go with your instincts.”

  I thought of how much I’d practiced with Graham, and the late-night drilling session with Sara and Beth last night, and I knew it was true. I did believe it.

  Two and a half hours later, I was sweaty, exhausted, and fired up beyond belief. Lisa, my varsity opponent, had dusted me a few times, but I’d beat her too. It was so unbelievably awesome to be up against such good players, and once I took Sara’s advice and stopped worrying about it, I’d just let myself go, and I’d had a fantastic time.

  Coach Young whistled us in, and I flopped next to Sara on the grass. She was drenched in sweat as well, and even had a grass stain on her shoulder. “How’d it go?” I asked.

  She beamed at me. “Awesome.”

  Beth sat next to us, still looking almost as fresh as she had when we’d walked out onto the field. “Well, practice was totally boring without you two there,” she announced. “If you both make varsity, I think I’m going to try out for the musical and bag sports. Soccer’s really boring if you actually just play soccer, you know?”

  Sara and I grinned at each other, and I realized that for the first time in forever, someone besides Graham actually got me too.

  Coach Young blew her whistle. “First of all, I want to say thank you to the JV team for practicing with us today. It’s always great to see the up-and-coming talent.”

  The varsity girls politely clapped for us, and Sara, Beth, and I cheered loudly.