At one point, when Jamie came through the living room to get some lemonade out of the fridge, Michaela and Donna stopped talking until she was out of earshot. Jamie could easily imagine the kinds of things they’d been saying. And the worst part was, Donna knew all kinds of embarrassing stuff about her—and now Michaela would know it all, too.
Jamie snorted. What did she care? If they hated her, well, she hated them right back. She walked back through the living room with her lemonade, shooting them both a plastic smile. “Don’t let me interrupt,” she said cheerfully as she headed up the stairs.
Tomorrow was going to be a miserable day, she thought with a pang. Not only was Michaela going to breeze through the math test while she herself struggled, but tomorrow was also the first game the Sharks would play with Michaela on the team.
Jamie thought back—had it only been the other night?—to when Michaela had first asked her about playing volleyball. She’d said she didn’t know the rules, Jamie remembered. But she wondered just how much Michaela really knew about the rules of the game—written and unwritten.
“Okay, Sharks.” Coach McKean’s eyes looked right at each of them like ice blue knives. “You know we badly need this match. As luck would have it, West Side lost their game yesterday, so our records are still tied. But remember, if we lose today, we put ourselves in a deep hole. Even if we win, we’ll still have to beat West Side to get there. So everything is on the line today.
“I know this is a team we should handle pretty easily, but we can’t take anything for granted. So don’t be looking ahead to the West Side game. This game is our whole season. Now put your hands together.”
The girls did their usual cheer, Michaela included. She was wearing Laurie’s jersey, with the number one on the back of it. Laurie had explained to Jamie that there was no other way—it was too late in the season for Michaela to get her own uniform. But it still galled Jamie. Just another log on the fire that was burning inside her.
The Hillsdale Hornets had a record of 3–12 and were, by the look of them, not going to be a very tough opponent, especially since they were the visiting team. Jamie stretched her muscles in anticipation. This would be her chance to show Michaela how the game of volleyball was played.
The Hornets must have heard that there was a new player on the Sharks, because early in the match, they kept hitting the ball at Michaela. Unfortunately for them, the plan backfired big time. Every time the ball came to Michaela, even when she was in the backcourt, she sent it right back over the net at them, scoring points left and right.
After every winner she hit, the other girls whooped it up, delighted. “Yeah!” Keisha Morgan shouted. “We’ve got us a new ballplayer!”
Jamie shook her head in disbelief. The Sharks were all giving Michaela high fives, congratulating her, applauding all her ball hogging!
Jamie glanced over at Coach McKean. She had her arms crossed in front of her and wasn’t saying anything, but Jamie could tell from the smile on her face that she wasn’t exactly upset that Michaela was destroying all the teamwork Coach had worked so hard to teach them.
For sure, Jamie thought, Coach will talk to her about passing the ball more during the next time-out.
But no. When the next time-out was called, all Coach said was “You’re doing fine, Michaela. Keep it up. Keep it up!” and patted her on the back.
Jamie hadn’t seen much action, what with Michaela taking nearly every shot. But now, when the team walked back onto the court leading the first game by a score of 11–3, Jamie was a stick of dynamite about to blow.
Michaela was serving, with Jamie in the front line directly in front of her. The serve was just so-so this time—the first one Michaela had launched that had been returned. As the ball came back over Jamie’s head, she backed up to retrieve it, only to feel Michaela smashing into her from behind!
The ball hit the floor, and Jamie wheeled around to glare at Michaela.
Michaela stared right back at her. “That was supposed to be my shot,” she said in a low voice that only Jamie could hear.
“Yeah. They’re all your shot,” Jamie muttered back.
“Bonner!” Coach McKean yelled. “Hold your position! Let the back row set you up!”
Jamie caught her breath. Coach had just criticized her in front of everybody! She hadn’t done that all season. Jamie felt her face reddening. She bit down hard on her lip, humiliated, and turned back around to play the next point.
This time, she leaped up in time to make a tremendous, smashing spike.
“Ow!” the opposing player yelled as the ball glanced off her head.
Jamie smiled bitterly. “Yeah. Take that,” she muttered, heading for the back row. It was her turn to serve, and she took the ball from Kim Park.
Michaela was still standing in the server’s spot, waiting. She’s forgotten to rotate, Jamie realized. Suddenly, a powerful impulse entered every fiber of her being: a strong, irresistible compulsion to give Michaela just a little, tiny taste of embarrassment. She heard Laurie’s voice in her head, scolding her for even thinking about it, but Jamie shut it out. She didn’t want to hear how nice Michaela was. Not ever again.
“Here you go,” Jamie said, holding the ball out to Michaela. Michaela, unsuspecting, took the ball. Jamie looked away, as if she didn’t even know what was happening.
Michaela launched the serve before any of her teammates had a chance to stop her. The referee blew her whistle. “Illegal serve!” she yelled, pointing to Michaela.
“What?!” Michaela gasped in horror. “Jamie—”
“It was my serve!” Jamie shot back. “Why’d you take the ball out of my hands?”
“You gave it to me!”
“I did not!”
“Hey!” Coach McKean shouted. “Michaela, keep your head in the game! Let’s go! Time’s in!”
The teams kept playing, and Jamie worked to conceal the smile that threatened to appear on her face. Coach had yelled at Michaela. Now the two of them were even.
She could feel Michaela’s eyes burning a hole through her. Jamie didn’t turn to her left to look, but she was pretty sure Michaela knew she’d done it on purpose.
Now it was Michaela’s turn to steam. She threw herself into the game with a fury, banging point after point, until the first game was over and the Sharks had won, 15–3.
During the time-out between games, Jamie watched to see if Michaela would complain and was surprised when she didn’t. She just sat there, letting herself be slapped on the back and congratulated by everyone. She looked at Jamie and smiled as if to say, “Living well is the best revenge.”
That smile of hers drove Jamie crazy. One way or another, she swore to herself, I’m going to wipe that smile off Michaela’s face!
The second game began with Jamie in the back row and Michaela in front of her. When the ball came to Jamie on the first pass, she passed it to Michaela—hard. Not only that, she delivered the pass to where Michaela couldn’t hit it.
Jamie felt a surge of satisfaction as Michaela misplayed the ball. On the next point the same thing happened. Twice in a row, Jamie had actually succeeded in making Michaela look like a klutz.
The third time, Michaela finally blew. She jumped at Jamie, slapping at her and screaming. Megan Hicks and Kim Park had to hold her back. The ref blew her whistle frantically, trying to restore order as the crowd fell silent, wondering what in the world had happened.
Coach McKean was furious. “Sit down, both of you!” she hissed. “Tucker, Moran, you’re in.” As play resumed with two sixth graders in the lineup, she turned to Jamie and Michaela, her jaw set. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two,” she said, “but I’ve got a team to run. If you can’t play as teammates, you can both ride the bench. Now what’s it going to take, and how long do you want to sit there?”
She turned her attention back to the game, which was now tied at 7–7, and left the two girls to consider what she’d said.
Jamie looked at Michaela. Michae
la looked back at her.
“Well, I don’t want to sit here, do you?” she asked.
Jamie shook her head. “We can settle this later,” she said.
Michaela nodded. “Coach?” she called. “We’re ready to go back in.”
The coach gave them a doubtful look. “You sure?” she asked.
“We’re sure,” Jamie said.
“Let me see you shake on it,” Coach McKean demanded.
Jamie took Michaela’s outstretched hand and shook it once. It killed her to do it, but sitting on the bench was even worse.
“Okay, get back in there and play like teammates! Time out, ref—substitution!”
Jamie walked back onto the court. The anger inside her had settled down, and she was able to concentrate and play her game. Michaela, too, devoted her energies to winning, and soon the Sharks had prevailed, 15–11.
Closer than it should have been, Jamie told herself. Thanks to Michaela, the ball hog.
As the crowd dispersed, Jamie looked around for her and saw her by the bleachers, pouring her heart out to Jeff. He looked up, staring right at Jamie with a pained, confused look on his face.
Jamie wheeled around and ran back into the locker room. That look of Jeff’s hurt worse than anything else. Michaela had stolen his heart—and for that, Jamie was not about to forgive her.
13
Jamie took the long way home, walking by herself through the darkening streets. She wanted to be prepared when she came through the front door.
At least they weren’t all lined up on the couch, staring at her as she came in. Jamie heard her dad and Tracy in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. She went up to the swinging door and listened.
“You’ve got to talk to Jamie, Chuck,” Tracy was saying. “She’s totally out of control, and there’s no use in me talking to her. She sees Michaela and me as the problem. Besides, you’re her father—I’m not her mother. It’s got to be you.”
“I know, Tracy,” Jamie heard her dad say, his voice heavy with sadness. “I’m sorry I’ve waited this long. I just thought that maybe, given time and if we all cut her some slack, Jamie would come around.” He let out a deep sigh. “If only she weren’t taking it all so badly.”
Jamie felt her lip trembling. She hated being the “bad one.” Hated it with a passion. She went over to the couch and dropped her book bag onto the floor so that they’d know she was home. If there was going to be another “little talk,” she might as well get it over with right now.
Her dad pushed open the door and stood there staring at her, his face etched with compassion. From inside the kitchen, Jamie heard Tracy clattering around, taking her frustration out on the dishes as she set the table.
“Could I just say something first?” Jamie asked as he came over to her and opened his mouth to speak.
“All right,” he said.
“I just want you to know,” Jamie began, talking slowly so she’d get it just right, “that Michaela isn’t exactly a little angel. She’s purposely trying to get me upset.”
“She seems to be succeeding,” her dad said.
“You should have seen her push her way onto the volleyball team, Dad!” Jamie blurted the words out in a rush, desperately trying to make him understand.
His eyes remained steady, his expression set. “Jamie, stop it. Listen to me now. I want you to look at your own behavior.”
“But she—”
“Your own, Jamie. You. Just you. Not Michaela. Whatever she’s done wrong is her problem, not yours. I want you to take responsibility for yourself.” He had her by the shoulders now and was forcing her to look at him. “Understand?”
She nodded slowly, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Good,” he said. “Now, ever since Tracy and Michaela got here, you’ve been treating them like enemies. I don’t know what makes you think you can do that. I happen to love Tracy, and Michaela, too. They’re just as much my family now as you and Donna.”
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. They did. Jamie could barely breathe. The sobs were choking her. Tears dripped onto her sneakers.
“Look,” her dad said, softening a little, “I know I put you in a difficult situation. That’s why I’ve tried to be tolerant up to now. But your behavior’s way over the line, Jamie. It’s got to stop right now, understand? No matter what you think Michaela’s done to you, you’ve got to forgive her and work to get along with her from now on. If you think about it, I’m sure she’s got a lot to forgive you for, too, am I right?”
Jamie nodded, unable to speak.
“All right,” he said, giving her a hug. “Can I count on you?”
“Y-yes, Dad,” she managed to get out.
“Good. I’ll see you at dinner in about fifteen minutes.” He left her there, disappearing through the swinging door.
Jamie sat there for a minute or two, trying to regain her composure. She went to the downstairs bathroom and washed her face. Then she headed upstairs.
At the top of the stairs, she heard voices behind Donna and Michaela’s door. The two of them were talking in hushed tones, like conspirators. Probably thinking up some new way to get her back, Jamie guessed.
She flashed back to the way Michaela had hogged the ball that afternoon, the way she’d flirted with Jeff Gates, wormed her way onto the Sharks, the way she’d offhandedly taken down Jamie’s posters and replaced them with her own, as if it had been her room, not Jamie’s.
Michaela’s a schemer, and nobody realizes it but me, she thought. Still, her dad had made her promise to make up with Michaela. Like it or not, she knew she had to do it—and the sooner she started trying, the better.
With a quick knock, she opened the door a little and said, “Hi, it’s me.”
“No! Get out!” Donna shrieked, throwing herself against the door so that it shut in Jamie’s face. “You can’t come in!” she added, holding the door closed with all her weight.
“Fine. Be like that,” Jamie said, her resentment coming back in full force. She kicked the door hard, three times, then went across to her own room, slamming the door behind her.
She expected to hear her dad’s and Tracy’s footsteps pounding up the stairs to see what new disaster had happened. But after a few seconds, when she heard nothing, Jamie relaxed a little.
Looking around the room now, she noticed that something was different. Everything looked pretty much the same as usual, but not quite. What was it?
With a sudden shock, she realized that things were not quite where she’d put them. Two of her drawers were slightly open, and she knew she never left them that way. The papers on her shelves were neater than usual.
Panicked, Jamie hurried to her top drawer to look for the leather packet of photos. It was missing!
Someone had been going through her room, her treasures! And Jamie had no doubt who it was.
Stifling a scream of fury, Jamie stormed back across the hall and threw open the door of Donna and Michaela’s room.
There they were, on the floor, with Jamie’s photos spread all around them! She’d caught them red-handed!
“What are you doing with my stuff?!” she shouted. “Who told you you could go in my room and just take it?”
Donna had been trying to gather everything up and hide it under a large piece of poster board. “Why didn’t you knock?!” she screamed back. “You ruined everything!”
“I ruined everything? I did?” Jamie gasped. Then she pointed to Michaela. “She’s the one who ruined everything! Until she came along, my life was fine. Now it’s totally wrecked!”
Donna stared at her, speechless, those big blue eyes of hers filling with tears.
Michaela’s lip was trembling. She covered her mouth with her hand and ran sobbing from the room. Jamie heard her running down the stairs.
There, Jamie thought. She had come right out with the truth. Her dad was totally going to kill her, she knew. And none of them would ever, ever forgive her. But this time, Jamie had no regrets. She had done wha
t she had to do. Michaela was the one who had gone over the line this time, not her.
But as she looked at her little sister, Jamie felt Donna’s gaze burning a hole right through her anger.
“You stupid jerk!” she hissed at Jamie. “All we were doing was making you a collage for your birthday!”
Jamie was stunned. “W-what?” she whispered, uncomprehending.
“We were putting together a big display of your whole life,” Donna said. “It was Michaela’s idea. She wanted to do something to make you like her. That’s all she’s been trying to do ever since she got here. And you’ve been so mean to her. Now she’s brokenhearted and it’s all your fault! I hate you! I hate you, hate you, hate you!”
With that, Donna ran right past her, out the door, and down the stairs to join Michaela.
Jamie stood there alone, her head buzzing, her heart pounding, with the treasures of her life scattered on the floor around her.
14
She’d messed up totally. She looked now at the collage Michaela and Donna had been making. On the poster board were some of Jamie’s favorite pictures, including the one of her and her mom taken just before Mom got sick.
Among the pictures were quotes cut out of magazines, things like: “There’s no stopping her now!” and “Who’s that girl?” and “Viva Volleyball!” which was stuck under a picture of Jamie in her Sharks uniform, spiking the ball at a helpless opponent.
Jamie had to laugh through her tears at that one, and at the headline that warned “Shark Attack!”
All the images on the poster board, all the words, came together perfectly to sum up her life. At the bottom, right in the center, was an empty space for a final photo. Under it was a cut-out quote that said “Happy Family.” Jamie wondered which photo would have gone there. Oh, well. She’d probably never know now.
She had accused Donna and Michaela of stealing her stuff, when all they’d wanted to do was to give her a beautiful gift for her birthday. What Jamie couldn’t figure out was why. Why had they chosen to do something so nice for her when she’d been so mean to them—to Michaela in particular?
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