Vee and Lily stared slacked-jawed at their dainty friend as she shoveled another bite of shrimp taco into her already stuffed mouth. Tabitha closed her eyes as if their dinner was transporting her to a happy place. Head thrown back, chewing and smiling all at once, she was completely unaware that her face was a total mess and her cheeks were stuffed like a gorged hamster.
If only Taylor Swift could see her now.
Vee tried not to laugh, but had truly never imagined such a sight. She and Lily were used to their fathers’ amazing meals, but apparently Tabitha and good food were just getting to know one another. Vee was still amazed that she and Tabitha had become such close friends. When Tabitha first joined the team they were U10’s, and she was standoffish with a reputation of being a total snob. It had taken Vee and Lily that first season to realize that while she might be the Queen Bee at her school, at home she was under constant pressure from her parents. Tabitha had initially lacked the confidence to really give soccer her full one hundred percent. Her father wanted her to pursue a ballet career. Vee had learned a lot by watching Tabitha stand up to her family to get to stay on the team.
“That. Is. So. Beyond. Amazthing.” Tabitha announced, finally taking a break. “What is in there?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s shrimp, avocados, salsa, a little queso fresco and a squeeze of lime,” Vee answered with a casual shrug.
“Okay, that is crazy delicious. Maybe the best thing I have ever eaten in my life.”
“I’m glad you like it!” Lily said. “Tell my dad. Maybe he will finally listen to us and let Tomas put some non-Italian items on the menu.”
Vee nodded. “We’ve been bugging him for a while to add those tacos.”
“Can we have that again next week?” Tabitha asked.
Lily made a face. “If there is practice next week. That was scary tonight.”
Vee heard a noise and noticed the kitchen door inch open.
“Cómo están mis super stars?” Tomas asked, poking his head out from the kitchen to check on the girls. The door opened and Lily’s father Liam followed right behind.
“Oh, so happy happy happy,” Tabitha answered immediately, patting her flat toned belly.
“Wait!” Tabitha thought for a moment and then said proudly, “Muy contenta.”
Tomas beamed. Tabitha and Tomas had made a deal. He would speak more English if she would practice more Spanish. Tomas knew how to speak English, but just felt more comfortable in Spanish. Tabitha only knew a little from having studied ballet in Spain the previous summer.
“And full?” Liam asked.
The girls nodded. Vee started to ask her father to make it again next week, but Tabitha beat her to it.
“Mr. Merino? That was the most amazing thing I have ever eaten in my entire existence on this planet. Even better than the lasagna we had last week. Can you please make it for us again? I can’t wait!” Tabitha blurted out. Then added, “There was no way I could say all that in Spanish.”
“Por supuesto! Of course!” Tomas answered, and Vee thought she saw her father stand a little taller. No one missed the smug glance he shot Lily’s father, Liam. Lily and Vee both cracked up. Both girls enjoyed their fathers’ constant sparring over recipes and who could make the most popular special of the week.
“Muchas gracias,” Tabitha said.
Liam stroked the top of Lily’s head. “Your mom called. Chris called and told her about the dome collapsing.”
“Oh, no he didn’t!” Lily cried. Vee and Tabitha looked at one another.
“Wait, what?” Vee asked. “Back up. It COLLAPSED? As in fell down? It was standing when we left.”
Tomas put his hand to his mouth. Lily said what they were all thinking. “This is not good.”
Lily’s mother Toni was a well-established worrier. She was legendary for letting her imagination run wild, anticipating the worst possible outcome, and as a result, occasionally shutting down events that scared her. If Lily’s mom thought the Dome had collapsed anywhere near her child, there was a good chance she’d ban winter soccer altogether.
“Yep. The dome, did, in fact, partially collapse,” Liam said. “And yes, Lily, your mother has been informed. Luckily no one was inside and no one got hurt. It should be fixed and back up in a month or so.”
Vee thought for a second. “A month!”
“Well, it will at least give me time to calm down my mom,” Lily said, and Tabitha laughed.
But Vee felt a minor shot of panic course through her body. For her, being a part of the Bombers was more than just playing soccer. It made her whole life better. It made her life complete. Even these after-practice dinners meant so much to Vee. Since her father was the manager of Katerina’s, she spent a lot of nights alone with the television, or in the back office of the restaurant. There were only two in her family. Vee’s mother had died when she was just a baby, and she didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Most of her extended family currently lived in Mexico, Texas, or Michigan, so she only saw them on holidays or in the summer. Vee couldn’t even imagine how empty her life would be without her team.
“Where are we going to play? When are we going to get a field? What’s going to happen?” Vee asked a series of rapid-fire questions in an ever-increasing voice of alarm.
“I have no idea,” Liam told the girls. “Chris said he hasn’t found a place for you yet.”
“Well, what about the game this weekend?” Vee asked. “Did we have to forfeit?”
“He’s working on it, he said. Take it easy girls.” Liam urged, and he and Tomas retreated back to the kitchen.
Vee, Lily, and Tabitha tried to get going on their homework, but they were too distracted to get much done. After a few minutes Lily stretched and yawned. “So Tabitha, who are you inviting to this dance?”
Tabitha shrugged and Vee was happy to see that her friend seemed to have very little interest in the topic. She barely lifted her head.
“Ah, I dunno. Maybe that cute guy Will from Science class,” she answered nonchalantly.
Lily’s mouth hung open, “Tabitha, Will is like the best-looking kid, best athlete and most popular kid in the school! Him, and your brother, Mark, I guess.”
Tabitha remained unimpressed. “Well, I’m definitely not asking my brother. And maybe I won’t ask Will. I think I’d rather he ask me.”
“What do you mean?” Vee asked. “Olivia told me the girls have to ask the boys and the boys have to say ‘yes’.”
“Olivia has a lot to learn,” Tabitha smiled. “There are ways around this stuff. I might ask Will if I feel like it. But my brother gave me the scoop.”
“Do tell!” Lily urged.
Tabitha lowered her voice and looked around, as if a horde of 7th and 8th graders were hidden behind the furniture. “Lots of guys make it clear they don’t want to be asked because if they aren’t asked then later they can invite whoever they want.”
Vee was totally confused. “How can they control if a girl asked them or not? I don’t get it. This whole thing is stupid and complicated. I wish it would just go away. Am I the only one worried that the Bombers are about to forfeit their first game ever?”
“If you’re annoyed by the dance chat now,” Tabitha laughed, “just wait!”
“Well, maybe LJ, you should invite G-4,” Vee said with a snort. She knew mentioning G-4, a boy in town who Lily could not stand, would get a good reaction.
As if on cue, Lily made a noise that sounded like a cross between a snorting pig and a horse blowing a fly off its lips. Then, she pretended that she was throwing up. She put her hands to her neck as if she were choking and threw herself on the ground.
Vee laughed so hard she momentarily forgot her soccer woes.
“Actually,” Tabitha said, “I think Olivia likes G-4.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Lily said, getting up from the floor. “He is 100 percent unlikable.”
Tabitha shrugged and said, “Lid for every pot.”
Vee thought back to pr
actice and Olivia’s behavior. “Speaking of Olivia, did you guys notice she was being a little weird today?
“I didn’t really notice anything,” Lily said, shaking her head and pretending to do her Social Studies report.
Tabitha also answered, “Nope.”
An odd pit of doubt swirled in Vee’s stomach. She was certain something was bothering Olivia, certain that she had been acting sort of weird, and if she were honest with herself, mean. But, if no one else noticed it, maybe she was imagining it?
Vee sighed audibly and Lily looked back up from her homework.
“You okay?” Lily asked.
Vee started to tell her what was bothering her, but stopped when Tomas burst through the door armed with a tray with three flans, all topped with whipped cream.
Tabitha actually clapped with joy and made a crazy squeaking noise that must have been some kind of bird language. Vee laughed at Tabitha, but when her father offered her the delicious looking desert, she just put up her hand. She’d lost her appetite. Something wasn’t right. What could it be? Images from the past summer flashed through her mind. Lily and Olivia had gotten into a lot of trouble sneaking out of their hotel room with a guest player named Colby. They’d both been grounded and nearly suspended from the team. Olivia never seemed really sorry for what had happened and even called Vee a baby for not joining them. The fall season had started tense, but ended smoothly. Vee prayed that the drama from the summer was gone for good. She needed her team to stick together.
“M’ija?” Tomas asked again, the lovely flan in front of her.
“No, gracias, Papi, I’m just not hungry.”
Chapter 4.
Perhaps the only thing Vee loved as much as playing soccer with her team was watching soccer with her father on Saturday mornings. The two were relaxing on the love seat in the living room of their apartment while English Premiere League soccer blared from the small television. She’d invited Lily over to watch the match, but Lily said she couldn’t because she had to do some chores around the house.
She’s missing a great game, Vee thought, sighing contentedly as her father massaged her foot. She closed her eyes for just a second, but then felt an extra-hard squeeze right in the bottom of her foot.
“Ouch!” Vee cried, as she wrestled her foot away from her suddenly agitated father.
Tomas dropped her foot and stood up to yell, “Es una falta!!!”
“What happened?” Vee asked, rubbing her foot. She watched the slow-motion replay and, sure enough, saw her favorite player brought down by a wicked tackle, just outside the 18-yard penalty box.
“That was totally a foul!” Vee shouted, jumping to her feet. “How could they not call that?”
Both Merinos were outraged. Play on the pitch continued, even as Javier Hernandez lay on the ground, rubbing his ankle, his face grimacing in agony. Vee checked how much time was left in the game by looking at the box on the upper left-hand side of her screen. Just five minutes. The score read Manchester United 2, Chelsea 2. Tied. Manchester United needed to win this game to stay in first place. A tie was only worth one point in the standings, but a win was worth three.
“Please get up, Chicharito…” Vee muttered. Javier Hernandez was her favorite professional player in the whole world, and she knew he was the one guy who could get Manchester United back in the game.
Tomas laughed a bit and said, “No te preocupes, el es muy fuerte.”
“I know he’s strong, Papi, but he’s also still on the ground.” Vee inched closer to the television, as if he could feel her presence. Hernandez was writhing in pain. Vee could see his nickname embroidered on the back of his shirt, “Chicharito.” Like many professional players from Latin America, he went by just one name. A Manchester United teammate finally kicked the ball out of bounds to give Chicharito a chance to get back on his feet. Vee was relieved to see him start to get up, but didn’t like the fact that the clock kept ticking.
Vee sat back down next to her father, who rubbed her shoulders this time. Vee smiled at him. Saturday mornings had always been their special time. But for the last few years, it had become even more exciting because Hernandez was one of the first Mexican players to emerge as a European superstar.
Tomas had explained where Chicarito got his nickname: Hernandez’s father and grandfather had both been soccer stars in Mexico and went by the name “Chicharo,” which means green pea. Tomas said it was because of the grandfather’s green eyes. Chicharito means “little green pea,” and that’s the name that stuck when the grandson became a world-famous player.
Tomas got up from the couch and went to the other room in their small apartment.
“Papi, the game’s back on!”
Vee could hear him rummaging in a plastic bag. He walked back into the room and tossed a dense packet at Vee.
It bounced on the floor and settled at her feet. Vee picked it up and knew immediately. New practice socks.
“Gracias, Papi.” Vee said with a smile, turning back to the game and tearing open the plastic bag filled with two pairs of white soccer socks. Vee glanced at the clock and felt another jolt of excitement. Tabitha should be here any minute. At the last minute, their coach had found a field and the Bombers had avoided a forfeit. They were playing at another indoor turf facility in a neighboring town.
Vee pulled out a pristine pair of new socks and rubbed her fingers across the soft, cotton foot. Her father had remembered to get the extra soft kind. She glanced at Tomas as he watched the game, flooded with feelings of safety and love. But soon enough, action on the field re-grabbed her attention. Man U was on a flying counter-attack in the game’s waning seconds. Robin Van Persie, the other star-attacker, had the ball in the corner. He pulled it back with his left and lifted a right-footed cross into the box. Chicharito was there, but Vee could tell he was at an impossible angle. Even if he could control the ball, he couldn’t shoot. Chicharito had his back to the goal and the opposing team’s defenders surrounded him, pecking at him like angry chickens. Chicharito brought the ball down and guarded it with his body. He looked for an opportunity to shoot. Vee stole a glance at the clock. They were in injury time already. Thirty seconds to score or Manchester United would suffer one of its first ties of the season, letting their nemesis and rival, Manchester City, take the lead for first place in the Premiere League.
“Do something!” Vee yelled at the television.
As if he could hear her in cold, rainy England, Chicharito made his move. He faked to his right then turned to his left. And instead of going for the impossible shot, he flicked the ball away from the goal with the outside of his left foot. The ball rolled slowly until a blur in red barreled his way into the box. The blur was Van Persie. He crunched a left-footed shot, the ball rocketed toward the goal and slammed into the back of the net.
“Goooool!” Tomas and Vee shouted together as Chicharito and Van Persie celebrated yet another amazing, jaw-dropping, come-from-behind victory.
All of sudden there was a pounding on the door. “Vee!”
Vee shot to the door and opened it quickly.
“What the heck is going on in here?” Tabitha asked with a laugh. “Did I miss our game or something?”
In their celebration, Tomas and Vee hadn’t heard her knocking.
“Man U just scored in injury time!” Vee told her, grabbing her bag and ball. “Bye Papi!”
“Tus tacos!” Tomas yelled after her. Tacos was Mexican slang for soccer cleats.
Vee looked down to see she was only wearing her new white socks. No shoes.
“I’ll put my shoes on in the car!” Vee answered running out behind Tabitha, scooping up her indoor shoes on the way out. Her socked feet felt the cold as soon as she hit the pavement. A small archipelago of snow and ice dotted the sidewalk. Vee hop-scotched around the ice patches, making grunting noises along the way.
Tabitha watched her silly friend wind her way to the car with a bemused look on her face.
“You look like a drunk frog,” Tab
itha announced, holding open the door to the big black sedan.
“Yes, I do, BUT, my socks are still dry!” Vee proclaimed.
“You know, you could have just put your shoes on in the house. We would have waited for you.”
Vee smiled and shrugged. “Dude, way more fun this way.”
Tabitha opened the back door to the car and the two girls got in.
“Nice hopping,” was the first thing Vee heard. It was a male voice, but certainly not Rini’s.
Vee looked to the front seat. Mark Gordon was smirking at her. Vee was mortified. When Tabitha said “we” she thought she meant her and her driver, Rini. She had had no idea anyone was watching her lurch down the sidewalk, much less Tabitha’s older brother Mark, aka Mr. Cool. She’d passed him in the halls at Tabitha’s house a few times, but had never really talked to him. The way LJ had described him, you would have thought Mark was a Malfoy-wannabe in a Brookville letterman’s jacket. Vee sized him up from the back seat. He certainly had Malfoy beat in the looks department, Vee had to admit. His hair was dark and on the longer side, sort of flopping across his forehead. He was looking down at his phone and playing a game or texting someone so she couldn’t get a look at his eyes.
Vee gave Tabitha a “what-up-with-brother-in-the-front-seat look.”
“Oh,” Tabitha shrugged, getting the gist of Vee’s quizzical look. “Turns out that Brookville Lacrosse has their games at the same place as our new field, so it’s works out great. Rini can drive us both, no problem.”
“Yeah, great,” Vee answered quietly, putting it all together. She wasn’t sure how she felt about going with Rini to practice several times a week. Something about being in Tabitha’s super snazzy car made her feel uncomfortable. She also felt oddly relieved that her father wouldn’t have to be part of the Bombers carpool.
“So did your little green bean save the day again?” Tabitha asked. Vee’s love for Chicharito was no secret.
“Green pea! Not bean!” Vee whispered. She was appalled, but kept her voice down because Mark was in the car.
Vee Caught Offside Page 3