Playing With the Boys

by Liz Tigelaar

  The clock ran down. Six … five … four … three … two …

  Lucy hurled the ball as hard as she could in Kevin’s direction.

  He lunged for it, reaching out just as his body—WHAM!—hit the ground. For a moment, Lucy couldn’t tell what had happened … and then Kevin reached up, holding the football triumphantly in one hand! The referee raised both arms over his head! They had done it!

  Lucy sank to her knees, collapsing with relief.

  Beachwood had scored! They had won!!!!

  On her hands and knees, Lucy tried to catch her breath. Pain shot through her ankle, but she didn’t care. She was in complete and utter shock. Had she really just done that? Had she really just won the game?

  The entire team rushed onto the field in celebration. Caleb ran over, hitting Lucy so hard that she almost fell over. She stumbled to keep her balance. He grabbed her arm, steadying her.

  “You saved it,” he gasped. “I can’t believe it. That play—it won the game.”

  Suddenly, from the back, Ryan picked her up and spun her around.

  “What?” he asked, still in shock from what had just happened. “You’re a quarterback now too? Unbelievable pass, Malone!”

  Lucy beamed as her teammates hoisted her up on their shoulders. All the fans had rushed the field as well. As she balanced precariously, she felt like she would remember this moment for the rest of her life-the cheering, the fans, the light shining down on her. She watched as Cope and Sascha poured the huge plastic container of water over Coach Offredi. Even dripping wet, he had a tremendous smile across his face. Water droplets gleamed in his mustache as they caught the light. Lucy let out a loud “Go Beachwood!” Then looked around. Where was Benji? She scanned the crowd.

  And from above everyone’s heads, she saw something that nearly made her topple off the shoulders she was perched upon.

  “Put me down,” she said, tapping Tank’s shoulders. “Please, put me down.” The guys obliged.

  She took off her helmet, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her dad was walking toward her. Lucy’s heart sank. After everything that had happened, was this really how her night would end? Getting yelled at and grounded for life? Again?

  But then she saw something in his hand. Flowers. She realized he had a huge smile on his face.

  “Dad?” she asked hesitantly, as if this were too good to be true.

  “Kid, you were amazing out there.” He smiled proudly.

  Lucy was stunned. “You’re not … mad?”

  Her dad shook his head. “I’m so proud of you, Luce.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “How did you know I was playing?”

  “Martie called,” he admitted. “She said there was something I needed to see.” He looked at the field, then had to ask. “Did you plan to pass the ball like that?”

  “Not exactly,” Lucy admitted.

  “I didn’t know you could throw like that.” He laughed, impressed.

  “A pretty great guy taught me,” she reminded him.

  Her dad smiled and pulled her into an enormous bear hug. “You were right, kid. About everything. And I’m—” He stopped. It was hard to get the words out.

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “Your mom would have been so proud of you tonight,” he told her. “You’re just like her. She never listened to me, either …and nine times out of ten, that was a good thing.” Lucy couldn’t help but laugh; then she hugged her dad tightly. He finally understood. He finally got it.

  Suddenly, Coach Offredi’s voice boomed loudly above the noise.

  “Gather around, everyone!” Everyone on the field—players, fans, and parents—stopped what they were doing. Dr. Cane, evidently a fixture at every game, quieted the crowd.

  “Normally, we’d do this in the locker room,” Coach Offredi admitted. “But in the spirit of the night, of homecoming, of this great win … I’d like to congratulate the entire team on their victory and their heart … and announce tonight’s MVP.” He raised the football he was holding and fired a pass to Lucy, who miraculously caught it.

  “Lucy Malone,” he announced. “MVP. You were tough out there tonight. As tough as any guy. I speak for everyone when I say we’re proud to call you a Beachwood player. I know you’ve had to overcome a lot to be a part of this team … but tonight, in front of everyone, I’m happy to say, you are a part of this team, Lucy. So here’s to you.”

  Lucy felt her eyes well up with tears—this time, happy ones.

  Part of her wanted to laugh. After all, the other players were considered “part of the team” simply by making the cut. She’d had to do so much for the same rank. It was ironic, really. But in the end she had proved herself—and it was worth it.

  “Thank you.” Lucy nodded, choking back her emotions. “Thank you so much.” And she meant it, from the bottom of her heart.

  As she accepted the applause of everyone around her, she reveled in this feeling. This was what it felt like to actually belong. She glanced around.

  The only thing missing from the moment was Benji.

  Saturday night was the homecoming dance.

  Lucy’s dad waved as he dropped her off at school that night. “Call me when you’re ready to be picked up,” he instructed. “And kid?” He smiled. “Have fun.”

  Lucy grinned. “I will.” She decided to leave her jacket in the car so she wouldn’t lose it. Now she hurried into the school, her bare arms covered in goose bumps. She walked into the gym and suddenly felt tentative. She told herself that plenty of people were probably going alone … but it didn’t make it easier to be alone. However, she quickly realized she wasn’t: Morbid was heading her way.

  “Hey,” Morbid said, looking down at her shoes and keeping her voice low.

  “Hi.” Lucy smiled.

  Morbid looked around, as if she were worried about people seeing her. When she seemed satisfied that no one was looking, she admitted, “You were great last night. You know, at the game. I got some good shots of that pass. I could e-mail them to you if you wanted. You know, the pictures.”

  Lucy smiled, grateful. This was only one of two times that Morbid had been in her vicinity without growling. “Thanks, that’d be cool,” she said.

  Morbid shrugged, “You’re welcome. Anyway, okay … well, I’m going to go find my friends.” Lucy couldn’t help but be surprised—and envious. Wow. Even Morbid had friends.

  “Hey, Lucy,” Cope said, walking by. “You look great.” She smiled and glanced down at her little black dress. “A step up from cleats and pads, huh?”

  Cope laughed. “I’d say.” Then he pointed across the gym. “The guys are over there. Wanna come?”

  Lucy nodded and followed Cope over. As she snaked her way through the gym, she passed by Regan, who was slow dancing with Kevin. She turned to get past Kendall, who was in the arms of …

  … Ryan?

  Lucy’s eyes widened. She blinked twice. Surely she was seeing things. What would Ryan be doing with Kendall?

  Suddenly, Cope answered. “Oh! Those two? They’ve been hooking up on and off since eighth grade. He always likes other girls, but somehow Kendall pulls him back in every time.” Lucy realized she’d accidentally asked the question out loud.

  She couldn’t believe it. Kendall and Ryan? KENDALL AND RYAN? Now everything made sense. No wonder Kendall hated her so much. And suddenly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Ryan.

  “What makes sense?” Cope asked. Lucy realized she’d done it again.

  “Never mind,” she muttered. She looked around and saw the soccer girls huddled together across the gym. Charlie was gesturing to Lucy and saying something to Pickle. Lucy sighed. They were talking about her. She wondered how she was ever going to make things right.

  Suddenly, she was elbowed in the side. Hard. Lucy stumbled back.

  “Oops,” Kendall said loudly as Cope patted Ryan on the back.

  “Hey man,” Ryan said to Cope. “Who’re you here with?” The boys turned toward each ot
her, caught up in their own conversation.

  “Oh, I thought I hit someone,” Kendall remarked.“But all I see is a big, giant nothing, in desperate need of a new hairstyle.”

  Next to her, Regan giggled loudly.

  Lucy took a deep breath. This was going to be so satisfying.

  “You know what, Kendall?” she said. “You’re a bitch. And Regan? You’re even worse than that. What you do to people—to me, to Charlie—all for the sake of what? Getting in with her?” Lucy pointed to Kendall. “As if that’s so great. What exactly do you love about it? Getting her drinks? Doing her dirty work? That’s not a friendship. It’s a dictatorship.”

  Lucy shook her head. Regan looked as though she were about to cry, as if this were the first time these thoughts had dawned on her.

  “I feel sorry for you,” Lucy continued. “You had Charlie as your best friend.You gave up a really good thing with a really great person. And here’s a news flash, Regan: Once you’re out of high school, no one gives a crap how popular you are. People care about what kind of person you’ve become. And next year? Kendall won’t be here. We will. So think about that.Think about where you’re gonna be then.” Lucy smiled, satisfied. “And enjoy.”

  Lucy turned to go, but Ryan grabbed her arm. “Malone, wait—what about that dance?”

  Lucy looked him in the eye. “I think you have your dance partner already.”

  She hurried off, leaving Ryan. Kendall sidled up to him, threading her arm through his, but he just wiggled out of her grasp.

  Meanwhile, Lucy headed for the door. She didn’t know where she was going. Just out of there. She liked Ryan. She really did. But if he could take a girl like Kendall to homecoming, a girl who thrived on humiliating other people … what did that say about him? She’d been so busy seeing all the things that he was, she hadn’t noticed what he wasn’t.

  Besides, as great as Ryan was—and he was great—as the quarterback of the team, wasn’t he practically genetically programmed to hook up with the head cheerleader?

  Lucy kept her head down as she rushed to the exit. Suddenly, Ryan Conner was a lot less interesting. When she thought that by going to meet him under the bleachers, she’d given up her friendship with Pickle … it just killed her.

  Suddenly, a voice interrupted her spinning thoughts.

  “Lucy, wait!” a voice called. She turned around, and Pickle was standing there.

  “I heard what you did,” Pickle admitted, her voice wavering a bit. “Charlie told me how you turned down going to homecoming with Ryan for me….”Tears sprang into Pickle’s eyes.

  “You have to forgive me, Lucy,” Pickle pleaded. “For holding a grudge, for being jealous—for everything.”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, I did everything wrong. I should have been honest. I just wanted you to like me—to be my friend—and I was afraid that if I told you I liked Ryan, it would be a huge mess … which it was anyway.”

  “It was my fault. I never should have yelled at you like that. It’s just …” Pickle stopped for a moment, thinking. “It’s just … look at you! Why wouldn’t Ryan want to be with you? You’re such a great girl and he’s a great guy—”

  Lucy interrupted. “A great guy who’s here with Kendall.”

  Pickle did a one-eighty. “Ew!”

  Lucy laughed. “Yeah!”

  Pickle giggled. And Lucy smiled. It felt so good to be laughing with her again.

  Pickle shrugged one shoulder and looked like a shy little girl. “Lucy … do you think we can we just start over and be friends again?”

  Lucy nodded. “I think I’d love that.”

  Pickle smiled broadly and engulfed Lucy in a hug.

  “See, Charlie,” Pickle said, turning around. “I told you she was one of us.” But suddenly, Pickle realized Charlie wasn’t there.

  They looked around and were stunned at what they saw. Regan and Charlie were actually talking!

  Pickle and Lucy both gasped. From the looks of things, Regan was apologizing. Charlie looked down at her shoes uncomfortably and then back up at Regan. The girls watched as she gave Regan a slight smile. Which for Charlie meant a lot.

  “Oh my God. Where’s Morbid?” Lucy asked. “This is definitely a Kodak moment.”

  “I see another one.” Pickle smiled and nodded over to Benji, who was lingering by himself at the punch bowl. It was the first time Lucy had realized he was there. He looked adorable in jeans and retro-striped polo shirt under a suit jacket. His curls were out of control.

  Lucy stared at him as if her eyes needed adjusting. There was something about him. Standing there, not caring what anyone else thought. It was as if she had just put huge, thick glasses on and everything had gone from being fuzzy and blurry to crystal clear. Benji.

  Lucy smiled. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me.”

  “I won’t,” Pickle promised. “I wouldn’t even think of it.”

  Lucy tentatively approached Benji. “You’re here,” she commented.

  He nodded. “You too.”

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  “You look nice.”

  He nodded again. “You too. Less footbally than usual.”

  She smiled; then there was more awkward silence.

  Lucy spoke first. “I looked for you after the game but—”

  “My dad—I didn’t want to deal with him, so I hid out in the locker room till the excitement died down.”

  “He was disappointed you weren’t kicking?”

  Benji sighed. “Understatement of the year.” He shook his head. “Dads can be such …” He searched for the word.

  “Dads,” Lucy stated.

  Benji laughed. “Yeah. That.”

  “Benji?” Lucy took a deep breath. “You want to dance?”

  Benji looked around. “With who?”

  Lucy hit him playfully in the arm. “With me, stupid!”

  A broad smile spread across Benji’s face. His braces gleamed under the lights. Then he remembered. “What about Ryan? Isn’t he the guy you want to be dancing with?”

  “Not really,” Lucy admitted. “He was … but now …”

  “Now what?” Benji asked.

  “There’s someone else. Someone else I’m interested in.”

  Benji deflated. “Oh.”

  Lucy held out her hand. “Someone who’s been great to me since the first day I set foot in this gym.”

  It slowly dawned on Benji that she meant him. But still, he had to joke. “Morbid?”

  Lucy laughed and shook her head. She reached out for Benji’s hand. He placed his hand in hers.

  She led him onto the dance floor. A slow song played. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he gently let his hands rest on her hips. They swayed to the music. She glanced around at Pickle and the girls giggling in the corner, giving Lucy the thumbs-up.

  “So … next week’s game against Branford,” Benji said. “Should be a good one. Hopefully you didn’t screw up your ankle too bad last night.”

  Lucy looked Benji in the eye. “So do you think I still have a chance?” she asked.

  “To play? Sure! If you wrap it tight, put some ice on it—”

  Lucy interrupted. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, do you think I still have a chance with you?”

  “With me?” Benji asked, surprised. “For what?”

  Lucy smiled. “For this …”And slowly, in front of everyone, she leaned in and kissed him. And at that moment, under the shimmering light, surrounded by her friends, Lucy finally found that missing K. In the company of the right friends and with the right boy, knowing she had made the right decision, for the first time since as far back as she could remember, Lucy Malone felt truly lucky.

  owle

  Thank you to all the people who helped make this book a reality.

  First to Jane Schonberger and George Morency, whose lives are committed to empowering young women through sports. Thanks to Carole Rosen, Andy Barzvi, and Jennifer Joel of ICM who have been suppor
ters of this book and series from the beginning. Thanks to the amazing, talented, detail-oriented, most insightful storyteller and note-giver, Kristen Pettit, who this couldn’t have happened without.

  A huge thank you to football players, experts, and friends Jason Wilborn, Nick Offredi, Mark, Sascha, and Caleb Tymchyshyn, who taught me everything I know about football. Thank you to Gretchen West, my laughing potato-in-crime, who kept me ‘sane‘ while writing. And most of all, a thank you to my family, Bob, Mary and Kate, who read every word, every chapter, and every draft and are always the inspiration for everything I write. I love you.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  Acknowledgements