by Alex Morgan
Emma groaned. “Oh no! Does this mean she’s going to be even snobbier now?”
“At least this time we won’t show up all covered in mud,” I said. We had gone dress shopping together as a group once at Debi’s store before. We’d been looking for dresses to wear to Zoe’s bat mitzvah. When we’d showed up after a practice covered in mud (and cheese puff dust, long story), Debi hadn’t been very happy. “Give us enough time to go home and shower and change, Frida.”
“Seven o’clock?” Frida asked. “Everyone check with your parents. If there’s a problem, let me know ASAP!”
Zoe nodded as she stood up. “See you Thursday!” she said as she darted away, so fast it reminded me of how she moved on the soccer field. She sat down once again with her fellow Gators, and I could see the relief on her face.
“Zoe really is taking this competition hard,” Emma said. She looked sad. “She just hasn’t been herself. I’ve barely seen her the last few weeks.”
“I tried to warn you all that this game would cause drama,” Frida said.
“Once the game is over, Zoe should be back to her old self,” Jessi said. Then she added: “I hope.”
“I hope so too,” Emma echoed, her eyes sad. “And we’ve got to figure out how we’re going to cheer them on this time, Frida. Should we switch signs again?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m really not a Gators fan at the moment,” Frida said. “Zoe has barely been talking to me, and she won’t even reply when I text her. Yesterday I sent her some pictures of some updos I was thinking about for my hair. No answer!”
She frowned. “Since soccer is about sides, I’ll root for the Griffons. You can root for the Gators if you want to, Emma.”
Oh great, I thought as the butterflies began to do their dance in my stomach. Zoe had been acting really strange already. With Frida taking sides, things were going to be even more awkward, if that were even possible.
Emma grimaced. “Oh, I don’t know what to do! I still want to root for both teams. Are you serious, Frida? You won’t root for the Gators at all?”
Frida crossed her arms and shook her head. “No way.”
“Maybe I can make a two-sided sign.” Emma sounded lost in thought. “And then I can turn it around at the half? Or maybe . . .”
I let out a big sigh. I was lost in my own thoughts. What I was thinking was that while I loved soccer, I didn’t love how it was tearing my friends apart!
“How do I look?” Jessi asked me. “Any spaghetti sauce stains?”
“No, you’re good,” I said. “How about me?”
“Good,” Jessi replied.
It was Thursday night. Jessi and I were standing under the spotlight in front of Debi’s Designs. Frida had been very clear with us during lunchtime today.
“Debi almost didn’t let me book this appointment,” she’d said. “Apparently she has our names and photos on file somewhere. So please, make sure you clean up after practice, okay? And no food residue.” She’d looked at Emma when she’d said this.
Emma had held up her hands. “I will tell my mom to lock away the cheese puffs, I promise.”
“All right, then,” Frida had said. “I’ll see everyone there at seven o’clock sharp.”
It was 6:57 now, and Jessi and I were too nervous to go in just yet. Then a car pulled up, and Emma and Zoe spilled out.
“Good! We’re not late,” Emma said. “I shudder to think what Frida would do to us if we were.”
“Is she here yet?” Zoe asked.
“I think she’s inside,” Jessi replied, and then we all took a deep breath and went into the shop.
We stepped into a brightly lit space with white marble floors and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. On the wall, displayed in chrome frames, were large photos of models wearing fancy dresses.
“Whoa, did it get bigger in here?” Emma wondered, looking around.
“I think the pizza place next door went out of business, and she expanded,” Zoe replied. “It definitely looks cleaner and brighter.”
“Definitely cleaner,” Jessi said with a giggle.
Then Frida came through a door in the back, followed by her mom—Mrs. Rivera—and Debi. I noticed right away that Debi had dyed her jet-black hair platinum white to match her décor. She wore it in a short, perfectly styled, glossy bob. Her outfit looked clean and perfect too: a white sleeveless dress with a black belt around the waist, and black pumps to match.
“Girls,” Debi said, her voice flat. “Nice to see you again.”
“Debi has picked out some amazing dresses for me,” Frida said quickly. She pronounced Debi’s name the way Debi did—de-Bee, with the last syllable emphasized.
“I’ll come help you,” Mrs. Rivera told her.
Debi turned to us, eyeing us closely. “Follow me to the salon,” she said.
“We’re clean this time,” Emma blurted out. She held up her hands. “See?”
“Lovely,” said Debi, in that flat tone again. “Now please, follow me.”
We followed Debi through a doorway into a small room with two white love seats facing a three-way mirror.
“Please have a seat while you wait for Ms. Rivera,” Debi said. “And please, no eating.”
Emma spun around quickly. “We didn’t bring any food this time, I swear!” she said earnestly, and in her speed she accidentally fell backward over the arm of the love seat! At that exact moment Zoe had been about to sit down, and Emma bumped into her. Zoe tumbled back onto the white fluffy rug, bumping into Jessi, who bumped into me. In seconds the four of us were tangled in a Kicks pileup!
Debi rolled her eyes and left the room, shaking her head. We waited until she was gone before we all burst out laughing.
“Oh my gosh, did you see the look on her face?” Zoe asked as we tried to untangle ourselves.
Frida came rushing in, still wearing her regular clothes.
“What are you guys doing? Debi is—” she began, and then her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no! What is going on?”
The four of us managed to stand.
“Well, Emma was trying to show that she didn’t have cheese puff dust on her hands—” I said.
“And she was really excited about it,” Jessi finished. “As you can see.”
We all started laughing again.
“Oh my gosh, I’ve missed you guys!” Zoe said, giving Emma a hug.
“Well, maybe you wouldn’t miss us if you wouldn’t spend all your time with the Gators,” Jessi teased.
“Hey, I can’t help it if I got put on another team all by myself,” Zoe said. “And it’s sooooo weird that we’re playing one another, and I hate it!”
It was such a relief to hear Zoe say what we were all feeling.
“It’s definitely weird,” I said. “I don’t want it to be weird.”
“And I know I’ve been acting weird,” Zoe admitted. “I don’t know. It’s like, maybe I think if I distance myself from you, then I can be more neutral on the field. You know what I mean?”
“Exactly!” Jessi cried, nodding. “But that shouldn’t mean we stop being friends.”
“It’s just a game!” Frida interrupted. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along. But you guys have all been too soccer-obsessed to help me with the most important night of my life, and now Debi’s going to kick us out!”
“Oh, Frida!” Zoe cried, and she ran and squeezed Frida in a hug. “I’m sorry for ignoring your texts and not being there for you.”
Frida softened. “Thanks for apologizing,” she said. “And I guess I’m sorry for not being more understanding about your soccer obsession. As insane as it is.”
Zoe clapped her hands. “Come on, let’s do this! Let’s get you ready for the red carpet!”
Debi walked in at that moment, and the look of annoyance on her face immediately disappeared. “Did you say ‘red carpet’?”
Frida turned to look at her. “Yes, that’s the whole reason I’m here. I’m sure I told you. My TV movie is premiering, an
d I’m walking the red carpet.”
“And Brady McCoy is the star,” added Emma, always the loyal fan.
Debi raised an eyebrow. “Brady McCoy? Why didn’t you say so?” She clapped her hands. “Come, Frida. We shall get you red carpet ready.”
Then she marched out, and I could swear she was humming Brady’s hit “Beat of My Heart” under her breath.
We all looked at one another, grateful and a little surprised by how things had turned out.
“It’s the power of Brady McCoy,” Emma said solemnly.
“Do you think the power of Brady McCoy can get you onto that couch without you falling on your face?” Jessi asked, and Emma gave her a playful punch in the arm.
We settled into the couches, and a few minutes later Frida came out, wearing a short silver dress that went straight across her shoulders. Her mother followed behind her.
“Gorgeous!” announced Debi.
“Too grown-up,” said Mrs. Rivera, and that was that. Frida frowned but didn’t complain.
Frida tried on a few more dresses, and there was a problem with each one. She didn’t like one. Zoe said the next one was “too last year.” (And the look on Debi’s face when she said that was priceless.) Mrs. Rivera said one was too short.
Finally she came out in the most incredible, unique dress. The top part was solid back, sleek, and sleeveless. The skirt was made of this puffy white material. It was shorter in the front and longer in the back, and there were colorful stripes going across it.
“That. Is. Fabulous!” Zoe announced, and she gave the dress a standing ovation.
“So cute!” said Emma.
“Awesome,” added Jessi.
“You will look amazing on the red carpet in that dress,” I promised Frida.
“Thanks so much, Debi, and thanks, guys,” Frida said. “This is perfect!”
Debi smiled, pleased. “I’m glad I could help you find the right dress.”
Frida went to get changed, leaving the four of us in Debi’s salon.
“I’m glad we talked things out,” I told Zoe.
“Me too,” Zoe said. “How about we make a pact? No matter what happens on Saturday, friendship comes first.”
“Friendship first!” Jessi and I repeated, and we each extended a hand for a cheer.
“Hey, I know I’m not playing, but can I do this too?” Emma asked.
“Of course!” Zoe said with a laugh, and at that moment Frida came out and figured out what we were up to. She placed her hand on the pile, and then we all lifted our hands into the air.
“Friendship first!”
Friday Night Friendship First Yogurt Fest! 7:30 Yum Yum Yogurt!
That was the text I had sent out to Jessi, Emma, Zoe, and Frida after I’d gotten back from Debi’s Designs. Our hug fest had given me an idea—a pretty crazy idea, but one that I thought was worth a try.
That was why, on the way to the yogurt place, my dad made a stop in front of a white ranch house in Riverdale.
“Thanks, Mr. Burke,” Jamie said as she slipped into the backseat next to me. “My dad says he’ll definitely be able to pick me up.”
“No problem, Jamie,” my dad said, smiling into the rearview mirror.
Yes, that’s right. I was bringing Jamie with me to hang out with my friends. My friends, the Kicks, most of whom were still hurt by what Jamie had done to our team.
I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I still felt like I had to try. There was no way I could change Jamie’s family. But I also knew that when you had good friends, they could feel like your family.
When Dad pulled up to Yum Yum Yogurt, I could see my friends inside.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll text you when we’re done,” I said, and then Jamie and I went into the shop.
“Hey, guys!” I said, and my friends turned. Jessi looked curious. Emma looked confused and sad. Zoe looked shocked, and Frida looked kind of angry.
“Uh, hey, Jamie,” Jessi said. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Then she shot me a look that clearly asked, What are you doing?
“Yeah, well, it was kind of a last-minute thing,” I said quickly.
“You know, if you guys don’t want me here, I’ll just leave,” Jamie said coldly.
“No, please don’t!” I said. “Come on. Let’s get some yogurt.”
I had to give my friends credit for being pretty cool about the surprise I had pulled on them. Nobody gave Jamie any attitude, but everyone was quiet as we lined up—me first, followed by Jamie, Jessi, Emma, Zoe, and Frida.
Yum Yum Yogurt was a top-it-yourself frozen yogurt bar. You picked what size cup you wanted, and then you filled it with one or more flavors of yogurt and topped it with anything you wanted from the toppings bar. Behind the glass were metal bins filled with all kinds of sweet toppings, everything from mini marshmallows to sugary cereal to chopped-up strawberries.
I squeezed out a small cup of vanilla yogurt from the machine and then moved to the toppings station. I knew exactly what I wanted. Chocolate chips, shredded coconut, and a cherry on top.
Jamie just stood there, watching me.
“Is that all you’re getting?” she asked.
“Well, yeah,” I replied.
Jamie shook her head. “Oh, Devin. Do you ever let loose?”
“What do you mean?” I asked. Then I looked down at my yogurt. “Oh, well, my mom is a health-food nut, so this is pretty loose for me, I guess. Her idea of a yogurt topping is more yogurt.”
Jamie grabbed the biggest yogurt cup they had.
“Let me show you how it’s done,” she said. She filled her container with orange, banana, and vanilla yogurt. Then she moved to the toppings.
“You’ve gotta get at least one item from every yogurt food group,” Jamie said. “Chocolate. Fruit. Nuts. Cereal. Candy.”
She piled on toppings as she moved down the row of topping bins. I watched in awe as she added chocolate sprinkles, banana slices, peanuts, fruit cereal, and sour candies to her yogurt.
“Everywhere else, you get only one cherry on top,” she said. “But here you can do whatever you want. Why not two? Or three? Or four?”
She added a whole bunch of cherries to the top of her yogurt, and then she held it up. “Perfection.”
Emma started to giggle. “Oh my gosh! That must weigh, like, fifteen pounds!”
“It does look pretty impressive,” Zoe admitted.
“I like your strategy,” said Jessi. “One from every category.”
“And you’re right about the cherries,” added Frida. “I always want more than one cherry!”
I wasn’t about to create a monster yogurt feast like Jamie had, but I did grab one more cherry with the tongs and placed it on top of my yogurt sundae.
“Better?” I asked Jamie.
Jamie just shook her head. “You are hopeless!”
Jessi, Emma, Zoe, and Frida finished topping their yogurt, and then we got them all weighed and paid for. We found a round table by the front window of the shop and pulled over an extra chair so we could all fit.
Jamie’s yogurt sundae was clearly the biggest one at the table.
“Jamie, how can you eat all that?” Zoe asked as Jamie dug in her spoon.
“We’ve been practicing like crazy all week,” Jamie answered. “I’ve been dreaming about a sundae like this one. That’s why when Devin asked me to come, I said yes.”
An awkward silence fell for a moment as we all remembered that nobody else had really wanted Jamie there except for me. I was searching for the right words to say to clear the air, when Jamie spoke up.
“Listen, I can understand why you guys wouldn’t want to hang out with me,” she said. “I’m sorry for what I did to you . . . before.”
I saw my friends look at one another, a little surprised.
“Thanks,” said Jessi simply, and everyone else nodded, and that was when I knew that my plan might actually work.
“Enough talking, more eating!” Emma cried out, and just as we started to d
ig in, Jamie’s cell phone rang. She picked it up, and her face fell.
“What? But I just got here!” she said, her voice rising. “Yes, I know Tristan has a game. Fine. Whatever. Good-bye.”
Jamie stood up. “My dad’s in the parking lot. I have to go.”
“But my dad can drive you back!” I said. I didn’t want her to go, and I didn’t think my friends did either.
“I have to see my stupid brother’s basketball game,” she said.
“You can get a lid for your yogurt,” Emma said sweetly.
But Jamie picked up the yogurt, dumped it into the garbage on the way out, and left without another word.
“Wow,” Jessi said when she was gone.
“So her parents never come to her games, but she has to go to her brother’s game?” Zoe asked. “That is so unfair.”
“Way unfair,” echoed Emma.
“I knew things were bad, and this really proves it,” I said. “Which is why I brought Jamie here tonight. I think I know a way we can help her. . . .”
“Go get ’em, Griffons!” Kara cheered, holding up a sign that said the same thing.
I laughed. “I wish I could fly you out here!”
“I wish you could too,” Kara said. “Frida actually texted me and invited me to her party. That sounds like it’s going to be fun.”
“I’m sure it will be, but I can’t even imagine being at a party right now,” I said. “I am so hyped up for this game!”
Kara grinned. “It’s so good to see you back in your soccer groove, Devin,” she said. “You got your school mojo back too, right?”
I nodded. “A plus on my last World Civ quiz.”
“It’s a sign!” Kara said. “You aced the quiz, and you will ace this game!”
“I hope so!” I said. Then I took a deep breath. “I’ve got to get going. Thanks for cheering me on.”
“Knock ’em dead, Devin!” Kara cheered me before signing off.
I turned off my video screen and took a deep breath. This was it. I was suited up for the game. My hair was tied back in the tightest ponytail I could make. I wasn’t about to risk any stray hairs flying into my eyes. My lucky pink headband was firmly in place. I took one last look in the mirror and then bounded down the stairs.