Opening the front door and tossing her duffel bag down onto the floor, Jenna felt exhausted. It wasn’t like her weekend had tired her out—just like last weekend, she’d watched a bunch of movies and eaten a lot of junk food. She’d done her homework, and spent tons of time online. Her dad had even let her order a cute new pair of shoes she’d found. But none of it had been tiring. She was just tired, already, after only two weeks of being shuttled back and forth between her mom and dad. And she was tired of her dad trying to make up for the divorce by being Superdad, and tired of getting used to a new house.
Jenna’s mom walked out of the kitchen and gave her a hug. “Welcome back, sweetie!” she said. She hugged Adam and Stephanie, too. “Bring your stuff up to your rooms, kiddos,” she went on. “Steph, I wrote down some phone messages for you, and Jenna, Nicole called last night. She said you didn’t have to call her back.”
“Do you know what she wanted?” Jenna asked, reaching down to take hold of the strap of her bag. She hefted it onto her shoulder.
“No, honey, she didn’t say,” her mom replied.
“Okay, thanks,” Jenna said. She followed Adam and Stephanie up the stairs and went into her room.
She put her bag down on her bed and slowly started to unpack it, lifting out the folded shirts and jeans that were inside. Once she was unpacked, she slid the duffel under her bed and crossed the room to sit at her desk. She picked up the phone, but Stephanie was on the extension in her room. “Steph?” Jenna asked tentatively. “Are you going to be on long? I have to call Nicole.”
“Just a couple of minutes,” Stephanie said. “I’ll knock on your door when I’m done. Or you can use Mom’s line.”
“It’s okay, I’ll wait,” Jenna said, and set down the receiver. She turned on her computer, which always took a while to start up, so she paced around her room for a moment. There was a knock on her door, and Steph walked in, quietly closing the door behind her.
“I missed so many parties this weekend,” Stephanie said, sighing as she flopped down onto Jenna’s bed. She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Jen, I’m sick of going to Dad’s.”
“Me too,” Jenna confided, sitting down next to her big sister and slumping down with her head in her hands. “I made plans with Nicole to hang out tonight, but we didn’t get back in time . . . I was supposed to call her at seven, and it’s almost nine thirty.”
Stephanie made a sympathetic cluck. “That really stinks, Jenna,” she said. She straightened up suddenly. “Hey, maybe if we ask Mom, we can stay home next weekend!”
Jenna sat up. “Really?” she asked. “Do you think she’d go for it?”
Stephanie shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “It’s definitely worth a shot. We’ll just explain that we haven’t felt very settled in—we just got back from camp and we’ve had to be shuttled all over the place. I bet she won’t care.”
“Okay!” Jenna exclaimed hopefully. “Can we go ask her now?”
“Definitely,” Steph agreed. She paused. “The only thing, though, is that I don’t want to hurt Dad’s feelings. So we can’t try to get out of going to his place every weekend. Just this once.”
“Just this once,” Jenna repeated. She smiled. “Let’s go talk to Mom.”
They walked down the hallway to their mother’s room and Steph rapped gently on the door. “Mom?” she called quietly. “Can we come in?”
“Sure, Steph,” their mom’s voice came through the door.
Stephanie pushed the door open. Their mother was lying in bed, reading a book. She slid a piece of paper into the book to mark her spot, and rested it on the bed next to her. Jenna and Stephanie sat down on the foot of the bed. “Mom, we . . .” Jenna looked at Steph for support. Her big sister nodded encouragingly. “We have something to ask,” Jenna went on.
“What’s up?” her mom asked.
“Well, Mom,” Steph began, “we were wondering if we could stay home next weekend, instead of going to Dad’s.”
Their mother frowned. “Why?” she asked, sitting up. “Are you guys not having fun with your father?”
“No, it’s not that,” Jenna said slowly. “It’s just that we just got back from camp, and we had to go straight to school, and I was supposed to—”
“We’re just feeling like we haven’t had time to adjust to being home,” Stephanie said, interrupting Jenna. She threw Jenna a look. “It’s just that.”
Their mom looked concerned. “Well, I’m sorry, girls, but I can’t make that decision. You know very well that it’s been hard for your dad to move away from you, and it wouldn’t be fair if I called him and told him you weren’t coming for the weekend. He looks forward to his time with you. I know if the situation were reversed, there’s no way I’d give up a minute with you kids. I’m sorry, but for now at least, you’re spending weekends at your dad’s. You’ll readjust, I know you will. I know it’s hard.”
Jenna and Steph looked at each other. “But, Mom,” Jenna began.
“Honey, I’m very sorry that this is the way things are,” her mom said, cutting her off. “And your dad is too. But this is just how it has to be right now.” She picked up her book and opened it to the page she’d marked, signaling the end of their conversation.
Jenna sighed. “Fine,” she muttered. She slid off the foot of the bed and stomped out, not waiting to see how Stephanie would take the news.
When she arrived at school the next morning and was shoving her things into her locker, Nicole walked up to her. “What happened to you last night?” Nicole asked.
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Dad made us go out to eat, so we were late getting home,” she replied. “I was going to call you, but Steph was on the phone.”
“Oh,” Nicole said, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “I wish you hadn’t been gone this weekend—I ended up having the most awesome party at my place on Saturday night. Everybody—everybody—was there! It was really fun.”
“You had a party?” Jenna exclaimed, closing her locker and turning to face her friend. “Why didn’t you tell me on Friday?”
“It was sort of a last-minute thing,” Nicole said nonchalantly. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of gum. “Want some?” she asked, offering the pack to Jenna.
“Sure,” Jenna said, reaching for a stick. “Thanks.”
“So anyway,” Nicole went on, taking out a stick of gum for herself and unwrapping it, “it was really cool. I had, like, fifteen people over and we watched movies and stuff. Like I said, I wish you could’ve been there. I called your house thinking maybe you’d decided to stay home from your dad’s, but your mom said you were gone.”
“Yeah,” Jenna said sadly. “I was gone.”
“Are you going to be around this weekend, you think?” Nicole asked. She hefted her backpack onto her shoulder. “Because I was thinking about having another party!”
Jenna sighed. “I don’t know,” she said. “My mom said I had to go to my dad’s, but I really don’t want to. It’s boring there! So . . . I guess I’ll let you know later this week.”
“Cool,” Nicole said with a laugh. “I really wish you could’ve come on Saturday, so I hope you’re around this weekend! I’ve got to get to homeroom—see ya!”
“Bye,” Jenna responded. She turned and walked toward her class, thinking, It isn’t fair at all. My parents are the ones who split up—why am I the one who’s suffering?
At lunch, Jenna slid onto a bench next to Nicole. She unwrapped her sandwich slowly, and took a bite of the bologna on wheat toast with mustard—her favorite.
“Everybody’s talking about your party,” she said.
“Yeah, I know,” Nicole said. She bit her lip. “Jen, I really wish you could’ve been there. Why don’t you ask if you can stay home this weekend?”
Jenna sighed and looked down at her sandwich. “Nicole, I really want to. I asked my mom last night if I could stay home next weekend and she said no. She said I just have to get used to this, basically.”
&nbs
p; Nicole sighed. “Well, maybe she’ll change her mind,” she said consolingly. “Over here!” she called suddenly. Jenna looked up to see her friend motioning to a group of girls who had just walked into the cafeteria. Molly, Veronica, and Lisa strolled over and set their lunch bags down on the table. “What’s up, guys?” Nicole said excitedly.
“Oh my God, Nic . . .” Molly said. “You know how I was talking to Brad at the party?”
“Yeah?” Nicole prompted, her voice lowered.
“Well, he came up to me at my locker today!” Molly exclaimed.
“Awesome!” Nicole replied. “What did he say?”
“He asked if I was going to go to your house again next weekend,” Molly said. “Do you think you’ll have another party?”
“Um, why not?” Nicole said. “Saturday night.”
“Awesome!” Veronica shrieked. “Are you going to come this time, Jenna?”
Jenna looked down at her half-eaten sandwich. “I have to go to my dad’s,” she said. “I don’t think I can go.”
“That stinks!” Lisa said. “Nicole’s parties are super fun.”
“That’s what I hear,” Jenna mumbled.
“Can’t you, like, fake sick or something?” Nicole said. Her face lit up. “You know, you could pretend like you were sick on Friday, and then you wouldn’t have to go to your dad’s, and then if you told you, mom you were feeling better on Saturday, you could come!”
Jenna thought about it. That just might work! “Maybe . . .” she said tentatively. “I mean, it seems like that might work. . . .” She had promised her parents no more pranks. But this wouldn’t be quite a prank . . . would it?
“You definitely should do it,” Lisa agreed.
The bell rang then, and the girls got up. “You should start faking sick a little bit now,” Nicole suggested as they walked toward their lockers. “That way nobody will suspect when Friday rolls around . . . and you just don’t feel so good. . . .” She pantomimed rubbing her belly in pain and rolled her eyes, pressing her hand to her forehead.
Jenna laughed. “I don’t know,” she said. “Seems pretty risky . . . but it might be worth it.”
Alex> MONDAY
The bell for fifth period rang and Alex hurried to get to her class, pushing past people in her effort to make it to English on time. When she was nearing the classroom, her friend Lucy came running up to her. She grabbed Alex’s arm. “Alex, I just heard that they posted the soccer teams!” she said, out of breath. “Let’s go look!”
Alex was unsure. “But class is about to start—” she began.
“The soccer coach is there—she’ll write you a pass,” Lucy said. “Come on!”
“Okay,” Alex agreed. She took Lucy’s hand and they ran down the hall toward the girls’ locker room.
There was a crowd of girls inside, standing around the big bulletin board next to the coach’s office. Alex pushed her way to the front of the crowd and scanned the board for her name.
There were three pieces of paper on the bulletin board, each listing a different group of girls: those who had made the team, those who hadn’t, and those who would have to go back that afternoon for one more round of tryouts. Alex first looked down the list of people who hadn’t made the team, and was totally relieved to not see her name there. Then she checked the list of people who had definitely made the team—but her name wasn’t there, either. Alex’s heart sunk deep into her stomach.
Coach Gregorson, a tall, redheaded woman who also taught Alex’s PE class, was standing next to the bulletin board with a clipboard, assigning groups of girls who were on the third list to tryout teams. “Alex,” Coach Gregorson called. “Come on over.”
Alex walked over, feeling nervous. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi, hon,” Coach Gregorson said, looking down at her clipboard. “So, I’m going to put you on the A team for tryouts tonight. That will start at four. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” Alex said. “Can I ask you a question?” Her stomach felt like it was in knots.
“Sure,” the coach said, scribbling something onto her clipboard. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Alex began. “Um . . . it’s just that in fifth grade, I was the MVP of my team . . .”
Coach smiled. “Don’t worry, Alex,” she said consolingly. “A lot of the girls who weren’t immediately placed onto the team are nervous. You’ll be fine, and if you don’t make it, you’ll try out again next year. No matter what, the second round gives me a better idea of what you can do, and it will give you valuable experience.” She patted Alex on the shoulder. “See you at four.” She grabbed her packet of passes out of her pocket and quickly scribbled one for Alex. Alex walked away, shoving her pass into her pocket.
Alex spent the last two periods of the day in a nervous haze. After school, she was so worried about the tryouts, she could hardly stand it. After the final bell rang, she put her books into her locker and walked around the halls aimlessly for a few minutes. Then she popped into the computer lab, since she knew she had an hour to kill, and checked into the Camp Lakeview blog.
Posted by: Val
Subject: Hi, everybody!
Sorry it’s taken me so long to write anything other than a response! We didn’t have Internet access for a while. Anyway, It’s been cool to see what everyone is doing.
I’m back at school, having a great time—middle school is different, but it’s so much fun! I’ve already met a bunch of new people—it’s really great.
Love, Val
Alex wanted to post about the upcoming tryouts, about how nervous she was that she wouldn’t make the team, about feeling like she wasn’t good enough, and about how hard middle school was for her. But she just couldn’t do it. She trusted and loved her camp friends so much, but she didn’t want them to see her feeling like she might fail. She closed the browser window and got up.
After leaving the computer lab, she headed for the locker room, where she changed into her practice clothes. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, tied her sneakers in double knots, and checked the time. It was three forty-five, fifteen minutes before her tryout was scheduled to begin. I guess I’ll go and watch the other group, she thought, trying to get excited about playing.
Outside on the field, Coach Gregorson blew on her whistle. “That’s enough, kids—great work today,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. The group of girls gathered around her. “Okay. Coach Henry, Coach Lisa, and I will be talking to you about whether you’ve made the team, and if you have, what position you’ll be playing and what your goals should be for the season. Please take a seat on the grass and come over when we call you. Let’s start with Jane.”
A girl with long, braided brown hair walked tentatively toward Coach Gregorson and Henry and Lisa, who were two high-school kids who helped Coach Gregorson. The other players scattered into small groups along the sidelines of the field. From her seat in the bleachers, Alex watched as the coaches sat down with Jane and talked to her. After a minute or so, Jane got up, looking really happy, and walked toward the school. Another girl walked over and sat down with the coaches, but it didn’t go so well. After they talked to her for just a moment, the girl’s face crumpled and she looked like she was going to cry. Seeing Jane make the team had made Alex feel a little better, but seeing this girl not make it brought the butterflies back to Alex’s stomach.
A few more girls came and sat down on the bleachers with Alex. She knew one of them from her fifth-grade soccer team and they smiled nervously at each other. “Hey, Amanda,” Alex said.
“Hi,” Amanda replied. She sat down next to Alex. “I like your shoelaces.”
Alex looked down at her shoes. She’d bought new yellow laces with smiley faces on them. “Thanks,” she said. “They make me smile.”
Amanda laughed. “That’s good,” she said. “Are you nervous?”
“Totally,” Alex said. “Are you?”
“Yeah,” Amanda admitted. “It’s weird to have to try out, since we didn’t have to
in fifth grade.”
“I know,” Alex groaned. “I wish I would’ve just made it in the first cut!”
From the field, Coach Gregorson blew on her whistle. “All right, girls, let’s get started!” she called, motioning for everyone to join her on the field.
When all the girls were assembled, the coach said, “Okay, we’re going to start by warming up, and then we’re going to play a short game so that we can see everyone’s skills. You’ll play the position you’re used to. I split up the tryouts so that everyone would play the position they’ve played before. Does anyone have any questions?”
Alex looked around. One girl with short red curls raised her hand. “Yes, Debbie?” the coach asked.
“When will we find out whether we made the team?” Debbie asked tentatively.
The coach laughed. “Right after tryouts, we’ll sit you down and talk with you. Don’t worry about that right now, though—just have a good time.” She blew on her whistle. “Let’s warm up, everybody!”
Henry and Lisa walked to the center of the field, and all the girls followed. The two older kids led everyone through some simple exercises, like jumping jacks and sit-ups. Then they did some practice with the ball, passing it and pivoting and dribbling. Alex was starting to feel like she was getting a real workout, which was great—she loved the feeling of her heart pounding and sweat starting to build along her hairline.
After about ten minutes of warming up, Coach Gregorson blew her whistle. “Great work, girls,” she called. “Let’s split into teams now for the scrimmage. On team A, I have Alex, Amanda, Debbie, Carla, LaShondra, Franny, Cate, Michaela, Sara, Savannah, and Monica. Everyone else, you’re on team B.”
The group of girls split up, and the coaches walked to the sidelines. As the game began, Alex stopped feeling nervous. She ran fast and worked hard, and every time her team scored a point, she felt a little lighter. After playing for about twenty minutes, Coach Gregorson blew her whistle. “All right, that’s great, everyone,” she said. “We’ve made our decisions. We’ll start with Amanda. Everyone else, relax on the field, do some stretches.”
TTYL Page 5