Saving the Team

by Alex Morgan

  “Are we all in agreement?” Coach asked. Everyone nodded. “Okay, Devin and Mirabelle are our co-captains!”

  I was officially a captain of the Kangaroos. I hardly knew how it had happened. Was Mirabelle setting me up? I had no idea. I guessed I’d find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As it turned out, the girl Kangaroos weren’t the only team with a game on Friday—the boys’ team had a game as well, at home. And unlike our game, which not even we knew about until Wednesday, the boys’ game was getting major hype. They even called a pep rally for Friday afternoon, to be held in the school gymnasium.

  At our practice Thursday night Coach Flores had asked us to sit up front near the boys during the pep rally to support our fellow Kangaroo soccer players. But now that we were there, it seemed like we were only in the way.

  “Girls, can you step aside a little bit? We need some room for the banner.” Coach Valentine, the boys’ coach, shooed the girls’ soccer team away from our front-row seats to make room for a giant banner. It had been carefully hand-painted, with the words “Go, Kangaroos! We’re #1!” done up in neat block letters. Each of the Os were even little soccer balls. The gymnasium was packed too. Soccer was obviously a really big deal here at Kentville.

  I had gotten to know some of the other seventh-grade girls on the team after the last practice, and they were really nice. We all sat together in the front row, wearing our blue-and-white uniforms. All our jerseys were kind of old, and some of the numbers were faded. Coach Flores had to use masking tape to remake my number thirteen. Everyone thought thirteen was an unlucky number, but it had always been good luck for me, like my pink headband.

  I was sitting with Jessi, Emma, and Zoe. Also near us were Frida, Brianna—the girl I had met on Wednesday—and Brianna’s friends Anna and Sarah, also seventh graders. Mirabelle and her eighth-grade pals were on the other side of the row. Which was fine by me. They hadn’t actually gone out of their way to be friendly with us—especially Mirabelle.

  “What are we, chopped liver?” Anna, who had short, curly black hair and dark brown eyes, asked. “ ‘Girls, can you step aside a little bit?’ ” she said in a dead-on imitation of Coach Valentine’s nasal voice.

  “If we want to get the red carpet rolled out for our team, we’re going to have to win some games,” Sarah told her. She wore her long brown hair in two French braids.

  Emma nodded. “The boys were state champions last year,” she said. “That’s major.”

  Frida rolled her eyes. “Yes, they’re very good at kicking a ball around a field of grass. Everybody bow down to them. I’d like to see one of them learn a Shakespeare soliloquy.”

  “Or win first place at the science fair!” Brianna chimed in.

  I glanced over at Jessi, who wasn’t paying attention to the conversation at all. In fact, she was scribbling furiously in her notebook. I tapped her on the shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Jessi frowned. “My math homework.”

  “Don’t you have math class right after the pep rally?” I said.

  She hung her head sheepishly. “Yep, that’s why I’m hurrying. I meant to do it last night, but The Real Teenagers of Beverly Hills was on, and I got distracted.”

  Before I could kid Jessi about watching a silly reality TV show instead of doing her homework, Coach Valentine picked up the microphone and motioned for the band to begin. The drummers started a slow drumroll. “Attention, please!” he announced. “Will everybody please give a big hand to your championship Kangaroo boys’ soccer team!”

  As the crowd cheered, the team came crashing through the paper banner. They ran toward the front of the stage, throwing out handfuls of candy from their pockets. The auditorium roared. People actually leaped out of their seats, arms outstretched, trying to get more candy. It was insane.

  “They better throw some candy over here,” Jessi said, dropping her notebook to the floor. “I can’t sit still for long without some sugar. Over here!” she shouted.

  “And now,” said Coach Valentine, “your boys’ soccer team seventh-grade captain, Cody Taylor, would like to say a few words.”

  “Shhhhh!” Jessi said, bits of candy practically flying out of her mouth. “I want to hear what Cody has to say.”

  “He’s in our English class,” I said, recognizing him as he took the stage with the other boys. He usually sat next to Steven, the boy who had helped me get to practice that first day. Cody and Jessi seemed pretty friendly in class. I’d noticed that Jessi seemed to prefer whispering to Cody rather than actually paying attention to the teacher!

  “It’s my absolute honor to represent the pride of Kentville Middle School,” Cody began. Cody had on a dress shirt and a thin tie that had clearly been picked out to match the school’s Kentville blue. He looked very mature and composed, especially compared to his rowdy teammates behind him, who were jostling one another and joking around while he talked.

  Frida yawned. “Anybody else bored by all this?”

  “Shhh,” Jessi said. “Some of us are trying to listen!”

  “Sheesh, okay,” Frida said, surprised at Jessi’s insistence. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Someone’s got a crush, huh?”

  Cody talked for a few minutes more before turning the microphone over to the eighth-grade captain, Trey Bishop.

  Looking at the stage, I spotted Steven. He caught my eye and gave me a shy smile.

  “He’s cute, right?” Jessi said. I blushed and looked away from the scene in front of me. I didn’t want to be caught staring. “I love his little tie.” Oh, she was talking about Cody.

  It wasn’t until after the pep rally, as we all walked back to class, that I realized nobody onstage had mentioned that our first game was that day too. So correction: Kentville didn’t just care about soccer—it cared about boys’ soccer.

  The girls’ team? Not so much.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Kicks, Kicks!” everyone on the bus chanted. We were about to leave for our first game. The pep rally, even though it had been for the boys, had gotten us fired up too. Or maybe it was the sugar from the candy they’d handed out. Either way we were pumped.

  “Aren’t you excited?” Emma was practically yelling in our faces. As soon as the bus pulled away from the school, Emma broke open a big bag of M&M’s. She managed to spill half of them all over the floor. Her face turned bright red.

  “Clean up in aisle four!” Zoe yelled.

  We all laughed hysterically, surprised at Zoe’s uncharacteristic zinger. When I smiled at Jessi, I noticed she looked upset.

  “What’s up?” I asked her, concerned.

  “I left my notebook at the pep rally,” she said. “I didn’t have my homework for math class. Which means I got a big fat zero.”

  “It’s just one zero,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “You’ll make up for it.”

  Jessi sighed. “Never mind about me. How are you feeling, Co-captain?”

  I dropped my voice. Mirabelle was sitting in the back of the bus with her friends, but I didn’t want her to overhear me. “So why did you nominate me for co-captain? You’d be great at it.”

  “Too much responsibility,” Jessi replied. “Besides, you’re an awesome player, and we need somebody strong to stand up to Princess Mirabelle.”

  She smiled and I felt relieved to see her happy again. It had seemed weird to see her worried, since she was usually so upbeat.

  “So, this is your favorite part about soccer, right?” I asked.

  Jessi looked confused.

  “Getting to leave school early!” I joked.

  She agreed. “Those are the best kind of school days!” She called across the aisle to Emma. “Hey, Emma, give me one of those M&Ms.” She opened her mouth wide as Emma took aim.

  We spent the ride to Victorton laughing while trying to toss M&M’s into one another’s mouths from across the aisle. Jessi was right—I liked school and all, but this was way better than being in class.<
br />
  When we got to Victorton, just a short ride away, I looked for my mom, dad, and Maisie in the stands. I finally spotted them.

  “Devin!” My dad called, waving with his free hand. In his other he was holding his video camera, just like always. Dad actually knew very little about soccer, but he tried to understand it. And he never missed a game, or the chance to record it on video. Last year, at the end of the season, he’d made the highlight video for our team. It had had slo-mo and been set to music and everything. It had been a hit at our team banquet.

  I waved to my family and pointed them out to Jessi, who waved too. When she spotted the camera, she did a silly little dance. Maisie started cracking up. Jessi never missed an opportunity to ham it up. Then we headed to the visitors’ bench to gear up.

  Jessi reached into her bag and pulled out a colorful set of blue-and-orange plaid socks.

  “These are so cool! Here’s one of mine,” I said, handing her one of my pink floral socks.

  “What are you doing?” Zoe asked curiously.

  “We’re switching one sock, for luck,” I explained. “Coach said we didn’t have to wear uniform matching socks, so we’re having some fun with it.”

  “I could use some luck too. Who wants to swap a sock with me?” Zoe asked. Of course, even Zoe’s knee socks were totally fashionable: red, orange, purple, and cream stripes. They would have looked just as adorable with a skirt for school as they did with her soccer uniform. Frida came running over. “Fun!” she said. She had white socks with colorful polka dots all over them.

  The seventh graders gathered around to see what was going on. A couple of the eighth graders smiled when they saw what was happening and came running over, socks in hand to join in.

  “Stop.” Mirabelle held her hand up. “This is so juvenile,” she said, and sniffed.

  The eighth-grade girls, shoulders slumped, walked away disappointed. I saw Grace shaking her head, but she didn’t say anything. It didn’t look like even the other eighth graders had the nerve to stand up to Mirabelle. I felt that maybe, as the co-captain, I should say something. But Mirabelle’s fierce, angry eyes made me keep my mouth shut.

  Jessi wasn’t afraid of Mirabelle. She just rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out as Mirabelle walked away. At least Mirabelle didn’t try to stop the seventh graders from having fun.

  “Wait. We have to put them on a special way too,” Jessi said. “For good luck. Here, watch me.” She made a big show of putting on her right sock first and wiggling her toes, and then she did the same with her left foot. We all followed suit.

  “And then we put our left shoes on first,” I added. “And you tie the right one last.”

  My hand went up and touched my pink headband. No matter what, I would always keep the ritual I’d had with Kara. Too bad Mirabelle had stopped us from making a new one with all of the Kangaroos. I asked Jessi to snap a picture of me with my phone camera, and then I sent the pic off to Kara.

  First game in California! I texted her.

  Now I was ready.

  As game time neared, I started to get the jitters. I hopped up and down, warming up my legs, and did a few stretches. Coach Flores gathered us into a large circle. “Girls, it’s a beautiful day, so go out there and have fun! Everyone will have an equal chance to play. Eighth graders, you’re up first. Then we’ll sub in.”

  Wait, what? That made zero sense! And it didn’t seem fair at all. If all the eighth graders always got to play first, some of us would never start a game.

  Jessi threw up her hand to object. “Why can’t we start too?”

  “Don’t worry, Jessi. Everyone will get the same playing time,” Coach assured us, smiling. “It will be very fair. Fair and fun, words to live by!”

  I didn’t know what Coach Flores was thinking! I walked over to Jessi, Emma, and Zoe in a huff. “What is this all about?” I asked. “Why would Coach think it was a good idea to split us up by grade instead of starting out the best people in each position?”

  Emma shrugged. “I guess she’s trying to be fair?”

  Mirabelle marched over to Coach Flores. “The eighth graders are short a player,” she said curtly. “I guess it’s not a surprise since you gave us such short notice about the game.”

  “How about Devin?” Coach Flores suggested, ignoring Mirabelle’s snarky comment. “Since she’s a captain?”

  Mirabelle nodded. “Only if we can both play striker.”

  “As long as that’s okay with the rest of the team.” There went Coach Flores again, trying to make everyone happy.

  “No, I can wait. It’s okay,” I said. “Let Jessi play.” Mirabelle rolled her eyes at me.

  “I’d rather wait too,” Jessi said. Now none of the seventh graders wanted to start. The Kangaroos couldn’t even get eleven players on the field!

  Frida chimed in, “If people are volunteering, I don’t need to play at all.” Great, even more of a mess.

  Finally Coach Flores stepped in. “All the eighth graders plus Devin, get out there. Everyone will have the same playing time,” she repeated. It was the most decisive I’d seen Coach Flores yet.

  I headed onto the field to face off against the Victorton Eagles.

  With our pregame disorganization carrying onto the field, we quickly went down 2–0 before fifteen minutes had even gone by. Then Mirabelle managed to dance her way through the Victorton defense for an unassisted goal, but as a whole we looked terrible.

  By the time the rest of the other seventh graders got into the game, the score was 4–1 and we weren’t threatening to come back.

  Jessi came in to sub as striker for Mirabelle, and since she had been itching to play, she ran around like a wild horse set free. Using her insane speed, she had no trouble blowing by the slower Eagle players. I was up at striker too, and I was sure that if I could get her a good pass, a goal would be easy.

  I eventually got the ball, and I looked for Jessi, who was jetting up the field. Concentrating, I lofted a perfect pass to her. She easily sprinted to get underneath it, zooming past the last Eagles defender.

  The ref blew a sharp note on his whistle. “Offsides!” he yelled.

  “Jessi!” Mirabelle barked from the sidelines. “Stop going offsides!”

  “I don’t need your help,” Jessi shot back. But the next time I got the ball and passed it to Jessi, she didn’t go offsides, and instead booted it right into the net.

  Finally it was my turn to come off the field. Zoe took my spot as striker.

  “Zoe, get to the ball,” I encouraged her. “Don’t be nervous!” But Zoe, her eyes darting to the crowd in the bleachers, drifted away when the ball came toward her.

  “Zoe, get it together!” Mirabelle shrieked in frustration. Screaming at Zoe didn’t help. It just made her more nervous.

  Frida, in goal, was even worse, not even paying attention as the ball made its way toward her. She was daydreaming about Shakespeare, the school play, or whatever dramatic thoughts occupied her mind. Keeping watch over the goal was obviously not one of her priorities. To make matters worse, Emma tripped over her own two feet, no ball anywhere near her, twice.

  “Jeez, Emma, learn to walk, for crying out loud!” Mirabelle yelled. We had a lot of solid players, like seventh graders Jessi, Brianna, Sarah, and Anna, and eighth graders like Grace and Anjali, but they couldn’t overcome the sloppiness of the rest of the team.

  In the end, with only Jessi’s and Mirabelle’s scores, we lost to Victorton by three.

  Mom and Dad met up with me before our team got on the bus. My dad wrapped me in a big bear hug.

  “You did great,” he said, ruffling my hair. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I frowned. “We were awful.”

  “It’s a new team and only your first game,” my mom said in a soothing voice. “You’ll get better. Just be patient. Here, have some water,” she added, handing me a bottle.

  Maisie smiled up at me. “I like your socks!

  I gave her a quick hug before climbing o
nto the bus.

  On the ride home everyone was a little bummed out—except for Emma, that is, who was still full of positive energy.

  Emma leaned over the seat she was sitting in with Zoe to talk to me and Jessi. “Aw, don’t look so sad. It’s only a game! But I know just the thing to fix it.”

  “What’s that?” Jessi asked.

  “A sleepover!” Emma said. “Tomorrow night, my house. Zoe’s coming too!” Emma said.

  “Awesome!” I said. My first sleepover in my new town, with my new group of friends! Losing the game hurt, but this went a long way to make up for it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Emma’s house was in a private gated community, and as Dad drove me slowly around early Saturday afternoon, looking for her exact house number, we gawked as each house we went by got bigger and bigger. A guard at the gatehouse had even given us a map of the place, in case we got lost.

  I was all smiles in the car. After only my first week of school, I had made friends and was on my way to a sleepover. I wish I had known I was going to meet Jessi, Emma, and Zoe before the first day of school. I would have been so much less nervous!

  “Fancy,” Dad said when we finally pulled up to Emma’s mansion. Palm trees lined the big circular driveway, and a fountain splashed loudly in the middle. I couldn’t even tell exactly how many stories the house was, or how wide around it went, as the building extended out of view. Emma lived in an absolute castle.

  After my dad parked and we got out of the car, I grabbed my heavy sleepover bag and we walked up to ring the doorbell. As we waited at the oversize wooden door, Dad joked, “Don’t touch anything.”

  A moment later the door swung open and Mrs. Kim’s round friendly face greeted us. She had on a flowery apron, and her graying hair was short and curled. “Devin, we’re so happy you could make it,” she said.

  “Thank you for inviting her, and if she causes you any trouble, just toss her into the fountain,” Dad said with a laugh.