by Alex Morgan
• • •
I looked out the car window as Jessi’s mom pulled up to 123 Lavender Drive at 5:43 p.m. The long, L-shaped building was set back from the road, and pink and purple flowers grew along the brick walkway leading to the front door. The sign over the door read, WELCOME TO LAVENDER HILLS.
“I still don’t get what we’re doing,” I said as Jessi and I walked up to the door.
“Well, we’re about to find out,” said Jessi.
We rang the doorbell. Then there was a buzzing sound, and a voice said, “Come in.” We pushed open the door and found ourselves in a lobby with gleaming white floors. Tracey, Katie, Kristin, and Kelly were standing in front of a desk.
“What’s going on?” I asked them.
“Coach Darby said to wait here until everyone gets here,” Kristin said with a shrug.
I looked around and pretty quickly figured out where we were, at least. I could see an open doorway with a sign that read COMMUNITY ROOM over the top, and when I peeked inside, I saw a bunch of elderly people sitting at tables and talking. Coach Darby was talking to a white-haired woman in a wheelchair. So Lavender Hills was some kind of retirement home or nursing home. But what were we doing here?
The rest of the Griffons started pouring through the front door. Nobody wanted to be late for Coach Darby’s five forty-five start time. I was surprised to see Jamie there, and she noticed the look on my face.
“Yeah, well, Coach Darby asked us to come,” she explained, and I knew that meant, “I wouldn’t have come if you had asked me.”
Then Coach Darby marched into the lobby. “Thanks for coming, ladies!” she said. “Tonight is game night here at Lavender Hills. These folks could use some fresh competition. Follow me.”
Jessi and I exchanged glances, surprised.
“A game night with old people?” Jessi whispered. “That seems very un-Darby-like.”
The other girls were whispering too, and I knew we were all wondering why Coach Darby had chosen this for our activity.
Coach led us into the community room and started barking orders just like she did when we were on the field.
“Sasha, Zarine, Amanda, you’re playing dominoes with Mr. Santos and Mrs. Bellworth,” she said, pointing to two of the residents. “Jamie, Devin, Jessi, you’re playing Scrabble with Mrs. Darby. Kelly, Lauren . . .”
Coach Darby kept calling out assignments as Jamie, Jessi, and I headed toward the white-haired woman in the wheelchair whom Coach Darby had pointed to. As soon as we got there, Jessi blurted out the question rolling around in my mind.
“Hi, Mrs. Darby! Are you Coach Darby’s mom?” Jessi asked, taking a seat next to her.
The woman grinned. “I sure am. Don’t know why she didn’t tell you. Barb’s a good girl, but she never did learn her manners correctly,” she said.
I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. No manners! Yup, that sounded like Coach Darby. But that wasn’t the best thing Mrs. Darby had said.
Jamie caught on right away. “Wait a minute. Her name is Barb? Short for Barbara? Or Barbie?”
“She always hated being called Barbie,” Mrs. Darby said. “You know, Barbie Darby. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that when I named her. She never let me live that down.”
Jamie looked at me and smiled. Barbie Darby! This was hilarious.
Mrs. Darby started setting up the Scrabble board and passing out letter tiles. Her hair was white from age, not from hair dye, but it was basically the same color as her daughter’s. And they both had the same piercing blue eyes.
“I hope you girls have good vocabularies,” she said. “I can’t find anyone around here who can put together anything bigger than a six-letter word. It’s just no fun.”
“I got a ninety-five on my last vocabulary test,” Jessi offered.
Mrs. Darby nodded. “Then you won’t disappoint me. Now, everyone pick a letter so we can see who goes first.”
Jamie ended up with the first turn, and she made the word “festive” right off the bat. “Seven letters. There you go,” she said proudly.
Mrs. Darby nodded. “Nicely done. Barb said she had a good group of girls on this team.”
We had a good time playing the game, but the most fun was that Jamie and Jessi kept asking Mrs. Darby questions about Coach Darby. Like, what food did she refuse to eat when she was a kid? (Broccoli.) And did she sleep with any stuffed animals? (Mr. Stompers, an elephant.) Mrs. Darby was telling us a funny story about how Coach Darby had gotten lost on the way home from school one day, when Jamie’s cell phone rang.
“It’s my dad,” she said apologetically, and answered it. “Yeah. But it’s not seven yet.”
Then she sighed. “I have to go now. We have to get my sister from dance practice,” she said. “Sorry.”
Mrs. Darby looked at the score sheet. “That’s a shame, dear. You’re winning.”
Jamie didn’t reply; she just nodded good-bye and then hurried out of the room. I felt really bad for her, watching her go.
We’d been having fun. And getting along. Which was exactly what a team building exercise was supposed to do. And then Jamie had had to leave.
Mrs. Darby was right. That was a real shame!
“Mirabelle!”
“Jamie!”
“Sasha!”
“Kelly!”
It was a sunny Saturday morning on the Rancho Verdes Middle School field, and the Griffons were performing their pregame cartwheel ritual. I had started it off, and as my teammates took their turns, I gazed at the scene.
There were no bleachers on the Rancho Verdes field, so spectators had to bring their own chairs and blankets, and some had even brought umbrellas. The brown-and-white-wearing Grizzlies fans had gathered on one side of the field, and the pink, blue, and white Griffons fans were on the other side.
I looked through the crowd and saw Mom, Dad, and Maisie, and Jessi’s parents. Emma and Frida were there, and I knew that they planned to leave at halftime to go see the end of Zoe’s game. I wondered if either of Jamie’s parents had showed up, but I realized I didn’t even know what they looked like.
Coach Darby blew her whistle. “Okay, girls, gather round!”
Jamie sidled up to me as we huddled together. “I wonder what kind of speech Barbie Darby’s going to give us,” she whispered, and I tried not to laugh. “Demolition Darby” was a great nickname for our coach, but I would never get tired of saying “Barbie Darby.”
“The Grizzlies have been defeated only once before,” Coach Darby began. “And that was by us! But don’t think they’re going to go down without a fight. I want to see a lot of energy out there. Look for passing opportunities, and don’t be afraid to score. Got it?”
“Yes, Coach!” we yelled, and then we all clapped our hands. It was game time.
Coach Darby’s faith in me had returned, and she put me in as forward along with Jessi and Jamie. It was exactly where I wanted to be. Everyone on the Griffons had one goal: to win. But I had a second one: to redeem myself. My last game against the Grizzlies had been a personal disaster. I’d started off by making a goal that didn’t count because I was offsides, and after that I had kept missing easy passes. Our team had won the game, but I wanted to do better this time.
The first quarter of this game started off with a bang, with Jamie getting possession and passing it to Mirabelle, who passed it to Jessi, who passed it to Kelly, who passed it to me. I passed it back to Jamie, who lobbed it at the goal, but the Grizzlies goalie made a spectacular save, jumping up like she had springs in her cleats, and catching the ball.
The Grizzlies made a drive to our goal, but one of our defenders, Katie, intercepted it before they could attempt to score. That started another passing chain down the field. Katie to Kelly, Kelly to Mirabelle, Mirabelle to Jessi.
Jessi took the ball down to the goal line, and I traveled with her in case she needed to pass. When she was close enough, she kicked it high toward the goal, but I could see that it was veering too sharply to the r
ight. That was when I took a cue from the Grizzlies goalie and jumped up as high as I could.
I stopped the ball with my chest. It bounced at my feet, and I quickly kicked it.
Wham! It flew into the goal, past the shocked goalie.
Redemption!
Jessi and I high-fived.
“Spectacular!” Coach Darby called out, and I beamed with pride as I jogged back down the field. I’d redeemed myself.
Now I just had to keep the momentum going.
Despite the fact that Jamie and I had been getting along, she was supercompetitive with me on the field. And that was fine, as long as she didn’t elbow me or hog the ball. Determined not to be outdone, Jamie made a long drive down the field, twisting and turning to avoid the Grizzlies defenders. When she got close to the goal, she kicked the ball so low and fast that it was a white blur as it skidded across the grass, past the goalie, and into the net.
At the end of the first quarter, the score was Griffons 2, Grizzlies 0. But the Grizzlies came back in the second quarter to score, so we started the half with Griffons up, 2–1.
At the halftime break I was chugging water when Emma and Frida walked up.
“Hey, Devin, look who we found!” Emma said.
I looked up to see a woman wearing a Kangaroos T-shirt, her brown hair tied back in a messy ponytail.
“Coach Flores!” I cried, and I tackled her with a hug. “Oh, sorry. Sweaty.”
Coach Flores was the coach of the Kicks during the regular season. She was the kindest, nicest coach I’d ever had, and I missed her now that the Kicks season was over. I still got to see her in school, but it just wasn’t the same.
Jessi ran up as soon as she saw Coach Flores and gave her a hug too.
“You guys are looking great out there,” Coach Flores said. “When Emma and Frida told me that your team and Zoe’s team were both in the semifinals, I knew I had to come see you.”
“She’s our ride,” Emma explained. “We’re going to Zoe’s game next.”
“And she’s coming to my premiere party,” Frida announced.
“Of course I am! How often do I get to celebrate with a real-life movie star?” Coach Flores said, and Frida beamed at the remark.
“I’m so glad you came,” I told Coach Flores. “That means a lot.”
“And I’ll be at the finals game next week,” Coach Flores said. “I hope I’ll see both of your teams there!”
Coach Flores must have noticed the worried look that crossed my face when she said that. I know I said it before, but Coach Flores was way different from Coach Darby. She was kind and understanding and always seemed to know how we were feeling.
“Just remember, Devin, that when you boil it all down, soccer is just a game. And friendship is stronger than any game,” she said.
I nodded. “Thanks for saying that.”
She turned to Emma and Frida. “We’d better get going.” We said our good-byes, and then it was time for the second half.
“The Grizzlies are on our heels!” Coach Darby warned. “Jamie, that was a great drive in the first quarter, but you were lucky. I want you girls to pass, pass, pass.”
Coach kept me, Jessi, and Jamie in as forwards. I had so much energy inside me as we ran back onto the field for the second half, I thought I might explode.
For a second I had a Frida moment.
I am a warrior beast! No Grizzly shall stand in my way! I thought, eyeing the opposition as we took our places on the field.
Bam! We were on fire. Jessi to Jamie. Jamie to me. Me to Kelly. Kelly to Jamie. Jamie to Jessi . . . and then Jessi took it right up to the goal and slammed it in.
3–1! Just seconds into the second half, and we had bolstered our lead. I knew the rest of my teammates were channeling the same energy that I was. I could feel it.
The rest of the game was a blur. Jamie scored again right before the end of the third quarter. The Grizzlies came back with another goal, bringing the score to 4–2. Then in the fourth quarter I got into a flow with Mirabelle as we passed the ball back and forth to each other, sending the Grizzlies defense into a scramble. Then Mirabelle sent the ball flying over the goalie’s head.
Griffons 5, Grizzlies 2. Then the final whistle blew, and all of the Griffons went wild. We jumped up and down and screamed and hugged one another.
“We’re going to the finals!” Kelly screamed.
In anticipation of the coming game, Jessi launched us into our team cheer.
“I believe!” she shouted.
“I believe!” we repeated.
“I believe that we . . . ,” Jessi continued.
“I believe that we . . . ,” we echoed.
“I believe that we can win . . . ,” Jessi cried.
“I believe that we can win . . .”
“I believe that we can win THE FINALS!” Jessie yelled, and we all started chanting with her.
“I believe that we can win the finals! I believe that we can win the finals!”
When we all said it together like that, our voices ringing across the field, I felt in my bones that we would!
“We’ve got to celebrate!” Jessi said after we had finished shaking hands with the Grizzlies, who all looked really sad. I couldn’t blame them. Their season was over. The Griffons were the ones going to the championships. For us that was a reason to party!
“I’m starving,” I said as my stomach growled. I had burned off the yogurt fruit smoothie I’d had for breakfast, and then some!
Kristin overheard me. “Seriously, can we do something else besides pizza?” she asked.
“How about the Burrito Bowl?” Jessi suggested, practically drooling. “I could devour a Fat Sam’s Superspicy Stuffed Burrito right now!”
All the burritos at the Burrito Bowl had funny names. My favorite was the Cluck-cluck-tacular Chicken Burrito Bowl. Although, sometimes I felt a little silly ordering it.
“Hey, who wants to celebrate at the Burrito Bowl?” I yelled to the rest of my teammates, who all still had smiles plastered onto their faces. Of course they were smiling. I was too. We had a shot at being the winter league champions!
Everyone liked the idea of the Burrito Bowl, and they went to talk to their families to coordinate rides to the restaurant. As I was speaking with my mom, I noticed Jamie walking to the parking lot, alone, as usual.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Mom as I darted after Jamie.
Jamie had been a big part of our team’s win today, and she deserved to be with us as we celebrated. Although I pretty much expected a snarky response in return to the invitation, I was going to give it a try anyway.
“Hey, Jamie,” I said as I caught up to her. “We’re going to the Burrito Bowl to celebrate. You should be there. Want to come?”
I held my breath, waiting for a sarcastic comment, but instead Jamie looked at the ground and shrugged.
“I would if I had a ride.” She sounded embarrassed. “But I don’t. My brother has practice, so I’ve got to leave with my dad now.” She gestured to a jeep parked in the lot. I saw an older man sitting in it, talking on his cell phone. I guessed that was Jamie’s father.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I told her. “In fact, come with me.”
I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to my mother. “But, Devin, my dad is waiting,” Jamie protested.
“This will take only a second,” I insisted. I spotted my dad and Maisie talking with Jessi and her mom while my mother was packing up the camp chairs.
“Hey, Mom,” I said. “Jamie needs a ride to the Burrito Bowl. Can we give her one? Please?” The words came out in a rush.
Jamie pulled her arm away from me. “It’s okay, Devin,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Of course we can give Jamie a ride,” my mom answered, ignoring Jamie’s eye roll. “Do you need a ride home too?”
Jamie nodded. “I live in Riverdale,” she said.
“That’s only one town over,” Mom said. “No problem, Jamie. You’re welcome to ride with us.”
“Like I said, no problem!” Mom answered cheerfully. “So it’s settled then?” She smiled at Jamie. I couldn’t believe it, but Jamie actually smiled back.
“Thanks, Mrs. Burke. I’m just going to go tell my dad,” Jamie said as she raced off to the parking lot.
Before I knew it, my mom was wrapping her arms around me, giving me a big hug. “You know, sweetie, I am so proud of you as a soccer player. But I’m also so proud of the person you are too.”
Mom knew everything that Jamie had put me and the Kicks through during the regular season, so she understood how reaching out to Jamie now was, well, complex, to say the least.
“Aw, Mom,” I said. Now it was my turn to feel embarrassed, with Mom getting all mushy with me on the soccer field. But it felt really nice to hear her say that.
Jamie came running back and said she could come with us, and minutes later we were in the Marshmallow, heading to the Burrito Bowl.
“Devin, Dad said we could have lunch at the Burger Hut while you’re eating burritos,” Maisie called from the front of the van. “Burritos are gross!”
Jamie and I were sitting in the very back row. It was actually hard to get back there; you really had to worm your way into those seats, but whenever I had a friend in the car with me, we always sat there. At least that way we could get a little privacy to talk, without Maisie being right next to us. Usually it was Jessi and me crammed next to each other. Today Jessi had caught a ride with Mirabelle.
“Good for you!” I called back. I looked at Jamie and shrugged. “Maisie’s a picky eater,” I explained.
“Not my little sister,” Jamie said. “She’ll eat anything that doesn’t eat her first!”
I laughed. That was funny. And not like the Jamie I knew.
“Hey, wait,” I said. “Isn’t your sister a ballerina? I thought most dancers just nibble on lettuce and stuff like that.”
Jamie laughed. “Not Jodi. She’s like a human garbage can. She’ll devour whatever you put in front of her.” Suddenly Jamie’s eyes narrowed as she glared at me, all traces of a smile gone from her face. “Wait a second. How did you know my sister is a dancer? Have you been talking to Mirabelle?”