by Alex Morgan
“Good afternoon, students!” Principal Gallegos said in his usual loud voice. “I am so proud of our girls’ soccer team today. Tomorrow our very own Kentville Kangaroos—otherwise known as the Kicks—will play their first game in the state championship tournament. Let’s send them off with a big Kentville cheer!”
Everyone clapped, and I even heard a few high-pitched whistles. Then I heard the sound of a drumbeat, and the middle school marching band marched in, playing a really upbeat song. They weren’t in full uniform, but they each wore blue jeans and a blue Kangaroos T-shirt, so the effect was still pretty awesome.
After the band finished, the cheerleaders did a routine, and they even made a pyramid. Emma nudged me.
“I still can’t believe that this is all for us!” she said, her eyes wide.
“I know,” I whispered back. “It’s pretty awesome.”
Principal Gallegos got back in front of the crowd. “Wasn’t that great?” he asked. “And now I’d like to introduce Coach Flores.”
Coach Flores looked at us. “Just like we practiced, okay?”
We all nodded as she picked up a soccer ball and jogged up to Principal Gallegos and took the microphone from him.
“Hey, everyone!” she began, and a bunch of kids clapped. “I’m so proud to be standing here today with the Kentville Kangaroos girls’ soccer team. These girls worked hard this season to get where they are! And now I am proud to introduce . . . the Kicks!”
Grace was at the head of the line, and she jogged out onto the gym floor. We lined up along the back of the gym. Coach Flores put down the soccer ball and kicked it to Grace.
“First up, our eighth-grade captain . . . Grace Kirkland!”
Grace dribbled the ball across the gym and stopped next to Coach Flores. Then she turned and kicked the ball to the next girl in line.
“Next up is Megan Nowak!” Coach announced.
Megan dribbled the ball across the gym next, and then she kicked it to the next girl in line. It kept going like that until Jade, the last eighth grader, was introduced. It was my turn next, and I realized that my palms were really sweaty. I knew it was just a pep rally, but suddenly I felt as nervous as if I were playing in a game!
“Let’s hear it for our seventh-grade captain, Devin Burke!”
I stopped the ball with my foot and started to dribble across the floor. I couldn’t look up at the crowd, so I stared at my feet—which was a mistake. I lost my rhythm and tripped over my own left foot. The ball escaped from me, and I jogged after it, my face turning bright red. I could hear a few people laugh in the bleachers.
“Go, Devin!” Emma cheered, and in a flash I remembered how many times Emma had done embarrassing stuff like trip and fall on the field. Once, she had even kicked the ball into the wrong goal! But she never let it get to her. She always kept going.
I felt the heat leave my face as I smoothly dribbled the ball down to Coach. Then I turned and kicked it to Emma with a grateful smile.
Emma made it across the gym without even tripping once! One by one Coach Flores called out all my friends: Jessi, Zoe, Frida, Brianna, Sarah, Anna, and Olivia. I made sure to cheer extra loud for each of them.
“The Kicks wanted to say a special thank-you to Coach Valentine for getting the team through the play-offs. Stand up, Coach!”
Coach Valentine sat in the first row of bleachers, surrounded by the boys’ team. He reluctantly stood up as his team chanted, “Coach! Coach! Coach!”
As planned, Grace and I took the microphone.
“Hey, Coach Valentine, we’ve got a question for you,” Grace said. “Why did the soccer field get all wet?”
Coach laughed as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Because the soccer players dribbled all over it!” I said into the microphone.
Coach Valentine started laughing his signature loud, gruff laugh. All of the Kicks starting cracking up, as well as most of the boys’ team.
“Thanks for helping us out when Coach Flores was gone,” I added. “We’ll miss you.”
“But we won’t miss the extra laps and push-ups,” Grace joked.
Coach Valentine continued to laugh while giving us a thumbs-up.
Coach Flores took the microphone back. “And, of course, the boys’ team had a great season too,” she said. “Let’s hear it for the boys!”
Everybody clapped and cheered for the boys, and the Kicks cheered for them extra hard. Cody jumped up and smiled and waved at everybody, but I noticed that some of the boys looked kind of miserable. A few, like this eighth grader named Trey Bishop, didn’t even stand up. Trey had his hands folded across his chest, like he was angry or something.
I couldn’t dwell on that, though, because then the band played another song, and we all just kind of danced around and clapped along to the music, and it was wonderful and amazing and crazy, and I got totally psyched up for the game.
Jessi high-fived me. “We are going to dominate the Bolts tomorrow!”
“Dominate!” I echoed.
The band’s song ended just as the final bell of the day rang.
“Have a great weekend, everybody, and I hope to see you all in Brightville for the big game!” Principal Gallegos called out.
Kids poured out of the stands. Frida’s drama club friends ran up and hugged her, and Jessi nudged me and nodded toward Cody and Steven, who were coming toward us.
In a panic I tried to secretly check my armpits because of how nervous I’d been before. When I looked back up, Trey and a couple of the other eighth-grade players from the boys’ team had sprung ahead of Cody and Steven. I was kind of surprised to see Trey right in my face.
“Nice move out there, Devin,” Trey said. “If you kick like that on the field, you guys will do great.”
The boys behind him snickered, but I didn’t let it get to me.
“Whatever,” I said, turning my back to them to face Jessi. She looked pretty angry.
But Trey didn’t give up. “The only reason you guys won the play-offs is because you had our coach,” he said.
I spun around. Now Trey wasn’t just insulting me—he was insulting my team, and my coach. But before I could say anything, Grace, Megan, and Taylor were suddenly all over him.
“Back off, Trey,” Megan said.
Trey shrugged. “It’s true. Coach Valentine is the only reason you guys won.”
“Oh, yeah?” Taylor asked. “Then why didn’t you guys win?”
That shut Trey up—for a second. “Yeah, well, Devin can’t kick anyway. Did you see her out there? She tripped over her own feet.” Then he did an impression that was supposed to be me tripping, but he looked totally stupid (and I know my mom and dad taught me never to use that word, but trust me, it was the best word to describe Trey at that moment).
“Devin’s a great player,” Grace said in her usual chill voice. “And I’m pretty sure she’s better than you.”
Trey looked like he was going to say something, but then Cody tapped him on the shoulder. “Um, I think Coach wants to talk to you.”
Trey looked over at Coach Valentine, who looked pretty mad. I swear that Trey turned a little pale as he slipped off to face his coach.
I looked at Grace. “Hey, thanks,” I said.
Grace smiled at me. “No problem. He’s such a jerk sometimes.”
That was the moment when I knew that things were okay with me and Grace. Like, really okay. I knew one more thing for sure: if we lost to the Bolts the next day, it wouldn’t be because we weren’t working as a team.
If Grace would stick up for me to Trey, I knew she’d have my back on the soccer field. And if Megan and Taylor would too, I knew they’d treat the other seventh graders the same. The Kicks had the skills. Now all we needed was the teamwork, and the state championships would be within our reach!
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My stomach did flip-flops during the whole drive to Brightville the next morning. I was excited and nervous at the same time. I was confident that we were going to
win, and terrified that we were going to lose. It reminded me of when my mom would tell me, “Your emotions are all over the place!”
Part of it was that I hadn’t been able to talk to Kara that morning, because she had play practice. It also didn’t help that Maisie insisted on singing along with the radio station. I put my earbuds in so that I could listen to my own music, but Maisie was so loud that I could still hear her.
I took out one earbud. “Mom, could you please ask her to stop?” I asked.
Mom sighed. “You can ask her yourself, Devin.”
“But she won’t listen to me,” I protested. Maisie was singing that whole time, so she could have stopped then if she’d wanted to. But of course she didn’t.
“You two need to learn how to communicate with each other,” Mom said. “This family is a team too, you know.”
When she put it like that, I couldn’t argue. So I gave it my best shot.
I turned to my little sister. “Maisie, can you please stop singing?”
She stopped long enough to answer. “But it’s my favorite song!”
Mom was watching in the rearview mirror, and I rolled my eyes at her, but she didn’t say anything.
I tried another tactic. “Maisie, here’s the thing. I’m really nervous about the game, okay? And it would really help if you stopped singing now. I swear you can sing the whole way back and I won’t say anything.”
Maisie stopped. “Promise?”
“Promise,” I said, nodding solemnly.
“Okay,” Maisie said. Then she started silently mouthing the words to the song, and I gratefully put my earbuds back in. Mom grinned into the mirror.
“See what a little teamwork can do?” she asked.
I turned my music back on and stared out the window. Would teamwork be enough for the Kicks to beat the Bolts? I would find out soon enough.
It was a familiar scene when we pulled into the parking lot—lots of balloons and signs in yellow and white, the Bolts’ colors, and fans wearing Bolts yellow. I wasn’t intimidated by that anymore, but then I saw the Bolts warming up on the field.
Their coach had them dribbling through cones, and they were sailing through the course really fast, and really smoothly. I stood at the edge of the field for a few seconds, watching. Not one of them lost control of the ball, even for a second.
Frida and Zoe stepped up next to me.
“They’re really tall,” Zoe remarked anxiously. Since she only came up to about my shoulders, I could understand why she was worried.
“And fast,” Frida added. She looked a little pale.
I couldn’t let my teammates get psyched out. “Remember, the Panthers looked pretty impressive the first time we saw them, too. And we ended up beating them twice.”
Zoe nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “But I’m starting to feel stage fright again.”
“You’re going to do great,” Frida assured her.
“Do you have a character yet for the game?” I asked Frida.
“Well, I was thinking of one,” she said, still staring at the Bolts. “But now I’m thinking I might be Invisible Girl.”
Then Emma and Jessi joined us.
“No way should you be invisible!” Jessi said.
“Yeah,” Emma agreed.
“But I’m scared of those Bolts,” Frida said with a shiver.
“Then go big,” Jessi urged. “Like . . . Godzilla.”
“Mega-Godzilla!” Emma added.
A slow grin came over Frida’s face. “Yeah, being a giant monster might be just the thing. . . .”
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s warm up.”
We joined the rest of the team, and Coach Flores led us in warm-ups. We did our sock swap, as always, and then it was almost game time. My butterflies came back big-time.
Then I heard a call from the stands. “Devin!”
I turned and saw Steven there, sitting next to Cody. I couldn’t believe it! They had come all the way to Brightville for the game. I tapped Jessi on the shoulder, and her face lit up as she looked into the stands.
Then I saw my mom come running up to the sidelines, motioning to me. I jogged up to her.
“What is it?” I asked.
She held out her phone. “Somebody wants to wish you luck.”
I looked down and saw Kara’s face on the screen and let out a scream.
“Kara!”
“I just got back,” she said. “I know your game’s about to start. I’ll be thinking of you the whole time, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, and then I heard Coach Flores calling the team onto the field. “Gotta run!”
My butterflies disappeared as I ran out to take my place on the field. Seeing Steven and Kara had given me the extra boost that I needed. When the starting whistle blew, I was ready for anything.
After a few seconds I found out that the Bolts lived up to their name. They had control of the ball and they tore down the field like lightning.
But we were ready for them. Our midfielders kept pace with their offense, keeping close to them. Grace even stole the ball right out from under one of the Bolts forwards, but another player swept up and got it right back from her. The Bolts player charged the goal and lobbed a kick, but Emma caught it before it could go in.
That’s how it went for most of the first half. Anytime we got control of the ball, one of the Bolts ran up in a blur and stole it from us. Emma did a great job of protecting the goal, but on the Bolts’ fifth attempt one of their strikers kicked a ball that whizzed right over her head, and the Bolts were up, 1–0.
“Sorry!” Emma called out.
“Don’t worry. You’re doing great!” I called back—and Grace yelled the same thing at the same time. We looked at each other and smiled.
No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t score at all in the first half—and the Bolts got another one past Emma, bringing the score to 2–0. Coach Flores gave us a pep talk at halftime.
“Listen, I know those Bolts are fast, but you girls are doing your best out there, and I’m proud of you,” she said. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I can’t ask for any more.”
I knew coach wasn’t just being nice—she was right. Everybody was playing their heart out. But I was starting to worry that our best wasn’t going to be good enough.
Coach switched out some players and put Zarine in for Emma on goal. I had my hopes up when the second half started and Zoe got control of the ball. She was the fastest on our team, and her lightning moves had never failed to confuse our opposition.
But the Bolts defense was just as fast. Zoe made her way down the field, turning left, then right, then faking a left and going straight. She tried every trick she knew, but she couldn’t shake the Bolts defense.
Finally we got a break. One of the Bolts got the ball away from Zoe, but the kick went a little wild. Grace rescued it and sent it soaring toward the goal. The goalie dove for it but missed. We had scored!
I high-fived Grace and got ready for the throw-in. The score was Bolts 2, Kicks 1. That was something we could work with.
But Grace’s goal seemed to light the Bolts on fire too. The goalie threw the ball to one of the Bolts players, and she rocketed down the side of the field. We chased after her but couldn’t catch up.
“Roooooooaaar!” Frida raced up and kicked the ball away from her, growling like some kind of crazed beast.
“All right, Frida!” I yelled as Maya ran up to the ball—but one of the Bolts, who had been keeping pace with her teammate, swooped in and stole it. She took it right up to the goal and kicked it past Zarine. The Bolts had scored again!
I ran up to Grace.
“What are we going to do?” I asked. “We’ve got to confuse them somehow.”
“I’m not sure,” Grace admitted. “Let’s stick together and keep passing.”
I nodded. It was worth a try anyway, so Grace and I quickly passed the word on to the other players. Jade got control of the ball first, and we all kind of stuck with her as she dr
ibbled up the middle. Then she passed it to Maya, who passed it to Taylor, who passed it to Grace—short, fast passes. The Bolts were all over us, but we managed to keep control of the ball.
When we got close to the goal, Jessi passed it to me. I quickly scanned the field for my options. Megan and Alandra were close by, but they were swarmed by defenders—and I had a clear shot at the goal.
I took it, aiming the ball a little to the left in the hopes of confusing the goalie a bit. The ball skidded across the grass, and for a second I worried that it would be too easy to stop. I held my breath as the goalie dove . . . and watched the ball slip right under her.
The Kicks fans went wild! We had scored again. Now it was Bolts 3, Kicks 2. I high-fived with a bunch of teammates and then tried to refocus for the rest of the game.
Just as they had when Grace had scored, the Bolts came back with a vengeance. They forged down the field at superspeed, blasting past our defenders, and one of their strikers made another goal.
Now the score was 4–2, Bolts, and I suddenly got that feeling that you can get in a game, like there’s no hope. It’s a terrible feeling, and one that can’t ever lead anywhere good. But it’s a hard one to shake off, and I think my teammates had it as well.
Not that we gave up—we didn’t. But we just couldn’t get past their defenders again. Coach put Emma in the goal for the last stretch, and she stopped two more goal attempts.
I wish I could say that we scored two more goals, and then at the last second I scored the winning goal and we won by one point. But what happened was a lot more boring—and a lot sadder—than that. I was running down the field, getting ready to accept a pass from Taylor, when the ref’s whistle blew.
Somebody went offsides, I thought, but then I saw the Bolts jumping up and hugging one another and cheering, followed by a deafening sound from the Bolts’ stands. That’s when it hit me—the Bolts had won, and we had lost.
We hadn’t lost a game in weeks, and it was almost like I’d forgotten what it felt like. It was awful. Terrible. Not only had we lost the game, but we’d lost our chance to win the state championship—and this meant that our season was over too.