by Alex Morgan
And it was good advice. For all I knew, everything would work out just fine. So I decided to not stress about it, and focus on eating my lunch instead.
My mom had made this awesome chicken salad with walnuts and dried cranberries that she had stuffed into a whole wheat wrap. She was totally into us all eating healthfully, and I had to say, I really liked just about everything she made. My sister, Maisie, on the other hand, loved to complain about her food all the time. But she still ate it anyway.
As I chewed, I saw Emma slump in her chair again. She had cheered up a bit after Sebastian’s compliment, but now she seemed back to being down on herself.
“What’s wrong?” I said after I swallowed.
“I’m still having trouble getting back into the confidence zone,” she said. She twisted her napkin nervously, leaving little pieces of white dots all over the table. “I know Coach Flores told me to think about it, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to take a break from being goalie.”
My jaw dropped. I had really thought that with a little time, Emma would get back into the zone. Would the Kicks be able to win without her in front of the goal?
CHAPTER SIX
Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, and I jumped out of bed feeling great. We had an away game that day, with the Rancho Verdes Vipers.
I dressed in my soccer uniform and bounded downstairs. Mom was drinking a smoothie, Dad was sipping his coffee, and Maisie was coloring a big piece of poster board on the kitchen table.
“Oatmeal’s in the Crock-Pot,” Mom said. “I put dried apricots in it.”
“Awesome!” I said, and I meant it. In my mom’s world dried apricots were usually for dessert. But they were super-yummy in oatmeal.
I helped myself to a bowl and sat down at the table.
“Whatcha making, Maisie?” I asked my little sister.
She put down the marker in her hand and held up the sign. It read GO, KANGAROOS! and she had drawn a really good picture of a kangaroo kicking a soccer ball.
“Awesome!” I said.
“Is everything ‘awesome’ today?” Dad asked.
“I guess it is,” I replied. “You guys are all coming to the game, right?”
“Of course,” Dad said.
“It’s a beautiful day for a game. Plus we’re playing against the Rancho Verde Vipers,” I said. “They’re the first team we beat in the fall.”
“I remember,” Mom said. “That was the first game where Emma played goalie. Your team really started coming together after that.”
I frowned. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t look like Emma wants to be a goalie anymore.”
Mom and Dad looked shocked. “Why not?” Mom asked.
Then I realized I hadn’t even told them about the meme. “It’s because of our last game, when her cleat fell off,” I said. “Somebody got a photo of it, and it turned into a meme. A bunch of memes, actually.”
Maisie giggled. “I know. They’re so funny!”
Mom and I both looked at Maisie. “You saw the memes?” we asked at the same time.
Maisie shrugged. “Kyle Miller showed it to everybody at school on his phone.”
Mom started talking really fast, like her head might explode. “For one thing, there is a no-phone policy in your school, Maisie, so I will certainly be speaking with Principal Chen about that. And I can’t believe that poor Emma is the subject of a meme. Do her parents know about this?”
“I know she told her mom,” I said.
Mom got up and took her phone off the charging station. “And how do I find these memes?”
“Look up, ‘the taste of dafeet,’ ” Maisie said, and then started giggling.
“Maisie, this isn’t funny!” I said. “This is Emma. You love Emma, right?”
Maisie nodded.
“Well, these memes are making her cry,” I said. “She doesn’t think it’s funny.”
Maisie got a sad look on her face when she realized how upset Emma was.
Mom was scrolling through her phone. “Poor Emma! There must be some way to get these off the Internet.”
“I’m afraid that’s nearly impossible,” Dad chimed in. “But there should be a way of making sure nobody uses those memes to tease Emma in school.”
“I’ll talk to Emma’s mom. She should be at the game,” Mom said.
I wondered for a second if I had done the right thing by telling my mom. Emma had been so upset about the memes. Surely, even if her parents couldn’t stop the memes, they could at least help her deal with what was going on.
A few minutes later we were all in the Marshmallow, headed to Rancho Verde. It was a short drive along the freeway, and we quickly arrived at the middle school soccer field. The home team side was decked out with green and yellow balloons, the colors of the Vipers.
That was why I always loved it when Kicks fans brought signs and wore blue and white, Kicks colors. When I was zooming down the field, trying to get to the other team’s goal, it gave me confidence to see blurs of blue and white in the stands.
I gave Maisie a hug. “Thanks for making the sign. It’s . . .”
“Awesome. I know,” Maisie said, and then she stuck her tongue out at me. I did the same to her and then jogged onto the field to join the team.
It was early, and only a few members of the team had arrived. One of them was Emma, and I saw her talking to Coach Flores. I jogged up to them.
“I’m sorry I can’t convince you, Emma,” she said. “But I want you to be happy on this team. How would you feel about being a defender?”
Emma nodded. “I think I can give it a try.”
“Great!” Coach Flores said. “But you’ll need to be on your toes, just like you were in front of the goal. The Vipers’ offense has gotten a lot better.”
Emma nodded. “I won’t let you down.” She pointed down to her cleats. “And neither will my laces.”
Coach Flores walked away. “Switching to defense?” I asked Emma.
“Yes, and I feel great!” Emma said. “I’m out of the goal zone and into the no-pressure zone!”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say it’s a no-pressure zone,” I told her, but Emma actually looked sort of happy for the first time in a week, so I didn’t say anything more. She would remember soon enough what it was like out on the field.
Then we heard Grace’s voice. “Sock swap time!”
The sock swap was a Kicks tradition that Jessi and I had started last fall. Before each game everybody on the team sat in a circle. Each person took off one sock and passed it to the girl on her left. So we each ended up wearing two different socks. It was fun because we all wore socks with different-colored stripes or patterns.
It was a silly tradition, but it had helped us bond as a team. Now we did the swap, and then lined up as Coach Flores called out positions. Zarine would take the goal; Emma would take defense with Frida and Anjali; Grace and Gabriela would play midfield; and Hailey, Zoe, and I would start as strikers. That left Jessi on the bench, but I knew she wouldn’t be there for long. Coach Flores was always switching up players to give everyone a fair chance to play.
Hailey faced off with one of the Vipers for the first ball. She got control of it and started taking it down the field. Zoe and I flanked her on either side.
The last time we had played the Vipers, their defense had been weak—but they’d gotten a lot better. I had a player covering me closely, and I could see that Zoe was blocked on her side of the field. Hailey had nobody to pass to.
I started running toward Zoe, bringing the Vipers defense with me. Now they were clustered around me and Zoe, giving Hailey a path to the goal, and she took it. She zipped down the field and kicked the ball high into the goal—almost too high, I thought, expecting it to fly over the net. The Vipers goalie jumped up but couldn’t reach it, and the ball dropped over her head and into the goal.
“Yes!” I cheered. The game had just started, and we were already ahead. I high-fived Zoe and Hailey as we jogged back into position. The
Vipers got tough after that, and for most of the half we traded the ball back and forth. One of their strikers got past Frida and lobbed a shot at the goal, but Zarine stopped it.
The next time we had control of the ball, Hailey passed it to Zoe. She zigzagged between the Vipers at top speed—Zoe’s specialty. But one of the defenders broke off and charged at her. Zoe quickly passed the ball to me before the defender could get her.
It was one of those perfect setups. I stopped the ball with my foot and then wham! sent it spiraling across the grass. The Vipers’ goalie dove and missed it. Now we were up 2–0!
Near the end of the half, the Vipers got within goal range again. One of their players kicked the ball high, and Zarine jumped up and caught it. When she came down, her right foot landed sideways.
“You all right, Zarine?” Coach Flores called out, and Zarine nodded that she was fine. But when the half ended just a minute later, Zarine came limping off the field.
“I think I twisted it, Coach,” she said.
“Let’s get you to the medic,” Coach Flores said, linking arms with her. Then she nodded to me. “Devin, suit up! You’re on goal next half.”
“Me?” I blurted out, a little surprised.
But Coach was already shuffling Zarine away.
A bunch of thoughts were filling my head. How am I supposed to suit up? Can I really play goal? Why did Coach pick me?
Emma ran up to me. “Here, Devin. You can use my stuff.” She led me to the bench and gave me goalie gloves, knee guards, and elbow guards. I started to put them on.
“How’d it go on defense?” I asked. I had been so focused on trying to score in the first half, I hadn’t really paid attention to Emma’s play.
Emma shrugged. “Not bad. But I’m not used to all that running. At least I didn’t trip or anything.”
Once I had the pads and gloves on, Emma slipped a head guard over my hair. “There you go. You look just like a goalie!” she said.
“I feel like a knight in armor,” I said. “How do you move in all this stuff?”
Frida, who had been watching the whole scene, chimed in. “Did you say a knight in armor? That’s an excellent idea,” she said. “I am Frida the Bold, brave knight of defense! It has a ring to it, right?”
I couldn’t answer, because Coach Flores had come back and was giving us the lineup for the second half. She put Jessi on the field as a striker and mixed up some of the other players. She left Emma and Frida on defense.
Before I knew it, I was standing in position in front of the goal. It seemed so much bigger than I’d remembered.
Just stay focused, I told myself. Keep your eye on the ball.
I looked for the ball and saw that it was controlled by a Viper speeding down the field. Our midfielders were nowhere near her. When she got into the defensive zone, Emma ran up to her and got the ball, sending a beautiful punt to Grace in midfield.
“Thanks, Emma!” I called out to her, and she turned back to me and grinned.
“I punt all the time as goalie. It comes in handy out here,” she said back.
I did feel grateful to Emma; if she hadn’t intercepted that ball, I would have had to defend the goal for the very first time. And frankly, the thought made my stomach flip-flop a little.
I kept my eyes locked on the ball. A few minutes later two Vipers forwards were aggressively passing the ball back and forth. As they got closer, I saw Frida charge them.
“Stand back, intruders!” she yelled (in character as Frida the Bold, I assumed), but when she went for the ball, one Viper forward passed it to the other Viper forward, and before I knew it, the ball was flying toward the goal.
The ball was coming hard to the right of me, and I dove for it—I really did!—but it whizzed past me and hit the net. The ref’s whistle blew.
“It’s okay, Devin!” Emma called out to me. “That was a tough one!”
For the first time, I knew exactly how Emma felt. The score was Kicks 2, Vipers 1, and it was my fault. It didn’t matter that Frida hadn’t been able to defend the goal for me. That ball had been sent to me, only me, and I had failed to block it.
It wasn’t a great feeling. In fact, it felt like a punch in the gut. I steeled myself, put my hands on my knees, and focused on the game. I tried to tune out everything else.
I wasn’t going to let it happen again.
And the next time the ball came to me, I didn’t. I caught one ball that was kind of an easy lob, and I sent a low ball to Frida with one, strong kick. I was feeling pretty good—until I was taken off guard by one of the Vipers who faked right and sent a ball to my left. I couldn’t get there in time, and the score was now tied!
I wasn’t thinking about the two goals I had stopped. All I could think about were the two goals I had let get past me. I was starting to lose focus. But Jessi scored to put us in the lead again, and thankfully, a few minutes later the game was over.
I ran to Emma and hugged her. “Emma! That was intense!”
Emma nodded. “I know, right?”
“I finally get it,” I said. “I totally didn’t realize the pressure you were under.”
“It’s okay,” Emma said. “And anyway, you did great.”
I shook my head. “Not as good as you would have, Emma.”
“You’re just saying that so you don’t have to be goalie anymore,” she told me, and I could tell she was only half-teasing.
“No, seriously. I’ve seen you block shots way better than I did today,” I said. “My mom was just saying that the Kicks really started coming together when you started playing goal.”
Emma didn’t say anything. It looked like she was thinking. Then we both got swept away into our team’s victory cheers. Afterward Mom, Dad, and Maisie came down to the field.
“That was a surprise,” Dad said. “How’d you like playing goal?”
“I’d rather be running and scoring,” I admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know if Coach was testing me out or if she’ll put somebody else on next week.”
Mom hugged me. “Well, you did a great job.”
The rest of the day was a typical postgame Saturday, and we all went to a burrito place for lunch. At home, I did some schoolwork. Then I got on my computer and typed “goalie confidence” to see what would come up. I still wanted to help Emma get back in front of the goal—and if she didn’t, I knew I’d have to be prepared if Coach kept me there.
I found a lot of blogs and comments on chat sites, with goalies talking about the pressure they were under. There was a long and boring article with a meditation for goalies. Then I saw something cool.
It’s Goalie-Palooza Time! Register Now!
It turned out that Goalie-Palooza was this nationwide one-day festival just for goalies. Goalies could go and compete at different age levels, plus show off their special goalie skills. There would be vendors selling goalie gear and merchandise, plus food and music.
I clicked through and saw that there was one happening soon, and just a few towns away! I started to get excited.
Emma had been born to be a goalie. I knew it in my bones. And being around other goalies might be just the thing to get her back in front of the net.
I knew what I had to do—I had to get Emma to Goalie-Palooza!
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day I got a text from Jessi.
Come to the movie with me and Sebastian.
Who else is going? I texted back.
Luke and Isaac and I think Mary who plays basketball.
I hesitated. I didn’t know any of these kids very well, but I knew they were all pretty nice. I did want to see the movie, and it wasn’t like anyone else had asked me to go. Like Steven, for example.
K. I texted. What time?
My dad and I will pick you up at 2.
Of course I had to clear it with my parents, but they were just fine with it after they made sure I had no more homework. One of my deals with them was that I had to get As and Bs if I wanted to keep playing soccer, and since nothin
g was going to stop me from playing soccer, ever, I made sure to do all my homework and studying on time.
Jessi’s dad came at two as promised and drove us to the mall. Along the way we mostly talked about the game against the Vipers, because even though I had a lot of questions about Sebastian, I didn’t want to ask them in front of Mr. Dukes.
When we got to the mall, we took the escalator up to the second floor.
“So, do you know these friends of Sebastian’s?” I asked Jessi.
She shrugged. “Sort of. Luke’s in one of my classes. But if Sebastian likes them, they must be cool.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said, but I couldn’t help thinking that Jessi sounded, like, really into Sebastian when she said it.
Then I heard Sebastian call out to us.
“Jessi! Devin! Over here!”
The mall was pretty crowded with shoppers, but we spotted Sebastian along with two boys and a girl standing by the theater entrance.
“Are they in . . . costume?” I asked.
Jessi grinned. “Yeah, cool!”
As she ran toward them, I tried to process what I was seeing.
Isaac, a short chubby kid, was wearing a brown fur vest and had horns on his head. Luke, a tall kid with glasses, was wearing all black with a cape, and a patch over one eye, which was a little awkward because of the glasses. Mary was wearing silver leggings and a silver top with puffy sleeves. Her brown hair was in a ponytail high on her head, and actual lights were weaved into the ponytail and flickered on and off. Sebastian had on black pants tucked into knee-high boots, along with a gray T-shirt under a black vest.
“Sebastian! You didn’t tell me you were getting dressed up,” Jessi said.
“I didn’t want to scare you off,” he said. “I mean, you’re an athlete, so I thought maybe you would think I was a geek or something. Which I am, but . . . you know.”
“No way! It’s so cool!” Jessi said. “Right, Devin?”
I kind of felt like Jessi was putting me on the spot. I mean, I appreciated it whenever anybody put effort into something, and these guys had all obviously worked really hard to make these costumes. I didn’t think it was something I would ever do, but I did think it was cool that they were so dedicated to their fandom.