by Coco Simon
“I’m here,” I said.
Mom frowned. “Did you have a bad day?”
“No,” I said, not really wanting to get into it.
Mom looked at me for a second, paused, then gave me a quick kiss on the head. Then she went over to Lindsay and gave her a quick kiss too.
“How was your day, honey?” she asked.
Lindsay smiled. “It was okay,” she said, “but we have tons of homework over the weekend!”
“That’s middle school for you,” said Mom. “Hey, did Nans talk to you about starting piano lessons?”
Lindsay shook her head.
“Okay,” said Mom. “Because your dad said you were interested, so I’m trying to find a teacher who can come to the house.”
“Cool,” said Lindsay. “Thanks, Aunt Melissa.”
I wondered why Mom was busy trying to find a piano teacher for Lindsay.
Nans and Grandpa were always around, so they could help out. So that meant that Lindsay and her brother, Skylar, had three people looking after them, plus Mom. Jenna, Molly, and I only had Mom and Dad, and they were barely hanging on with how busy they were.
“Okay, girls, have a good shift,” said Mom. “I’ve got to get back to work. Wait…” She turned around. “Did you girls have a snack after school?”
“Nans packed me some peanut butter crackers,” said Lindsay.
Mom looked at me. “Did Dad give you anything?”
“Well, all we had were graham crackers, since no one had time to go to the supermarket this week,” I pouted.
Mom looked a little annoyed at my pout. “Well, luckily you work in a restaurant with a pretty extensive menu. What do you want?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”
I knew I was acting a little snotty and I didn’t even really know why, but I still couldn’t help myself.
Mom sighed and I could tell she was about to say something, but then she changed her mind.
“Okay, well, I’m here if you need me,” she said, and then headed back to her office.
Lindsay and I wiped the shelves down in silence, then swept the floor behind the counter. Then we ran out of things to do, so we just tried to look busy.
The after-school crowd comes in various waves. Grandpa usually shuffles some people around and has one of the waitresses work the donut counter to serve some of the kids before Lindsay and I get there.
“I didn’t know you wanted to take piano lessons,” I finally said.
Lindsay shrugged. “Yeah, well, Dad keeps telling me I need more activities. And I don’t really like any sports, so we figured music might be good. Hey, speaking of sports, do you have field hockey tryouts tomorrow?”
“No tryouts yet,” I said, “Practice starts tomorrow, and we scrimmage so they can watch everyone. Then they do the observations and decide who makes the team.”
I heard the bell ring when the front door to the restaurant opened, and a pack of kids came swarming in and made a beeline for the Donut Dreams counter.
“Brace yourself,” I said.
“Oh boy,” said Lindsay. “Here come the East twins.”
For the next half hour we were slammed, with kids whining, “That one… no, no, that one,” as our hands hovered over exactly which donut they wanted.
Freddy Benson had a fit, claiming that his sister got a bigger donut than he did, even though they were exactly the same.
One mom came in with two little girls. They had enormous blue eyes and hair so blond it almost looked white. They looked like two tiny angels—sweet and innocent.
One of the girls asked me for a chocolate glazed donut, “with extra sprinkles, please.” The second girl wanted a jelly donut. Their mom looked exhausted and just ordered a coffee.
I handed the first girl her chocolate donut, heaped with sprinkles.
She thanked me politely and then promptly smashed the donut into her sister’s hair and face. “That’s for losing my Barbie,” she yelled.
Her sister screamed and then threw her donut at her sister, before anyone could stop her.
Grandpa was there immediately to help clean up.
“That’s a waste of two delicious donuts, young ladies,” he said to the girls.
He was trying to look stern, but I saw he was trying really hard not to laugh.
Their mom was mortified and kept apologizing.
Grandpa waved his hand as if to say, Don’t worry about it, and then gave the mom an old-fashioned donut on the house.
Another mother was leaving the restaurant area when both of her kids (a boy and a girl) spotted the Donut Dreams counter and started chanting, “Donuts! Donuts! Dooo-nuts!”
The mom sighed heavily and said, “Donuts aren’t really good for you.”
“They are good for the soul,” Lindsay said seriously.
“And for your tummy!” I said, laughing.
“You know what they say,” Grandpa said, joining the conversation. “You can be sad before you eat a donut. And you can be sad after you eat a donut. But nobody is ever sad while they are eating a donut!”
The mom laughed and said to her children, “All right. Just this once!”
The kids whooped and cheered as they picked out their treats.
“Oh, they’ll be back,” Grandpa said with a smile.
Lindsay and I looked at each other after the line finally died down and said, “Whoa” at the same time.
I started sweeping up all the sprinkle crumbs on the floor, and she was wiping down the small tables and chairs that we have right next to the counter.
We almost had everything back to normal when Uncle Mike, Lindsay’s dad, came over.
“Hey, girls,” he said. “Listen, Skylar has an earache and I need to run him over to the doctor.” He looked a little worried. “Nans is with him in the car out front but he doesn’t want Nans to take him, so she’ll come here and will step in if anything comes up for you.”
“Poor Sky,” said Lindsay.
Skylar can be an enormous pain, but he’s also really cute. I flinched because I used to get earaches all the time and they were really painful.
Lindsay and I watched as Uncle Mike switched spots with Nans in the car outside, and Nans headed into the restaurant.
I almost said, Poor kid probably just wants his mom, which is what I want when I get sick, but I caught myself just in time.
“How are my girls?” asked Nans.
“Selling lots of donuts today!” said Lindsay.
“Excellent!” said Nans. She came over and gave me a little hug. “Always happy to see my girls hard at work.”
She went over to talk to Grandpa, then headed into the kitchen.
At the end of the day’s shift, we need to use the iPad and enter in all the sales. That automatically adds up how many donuts we sold and how much money we should have in the cash drawer. If the cash drawer doesn’t match the receipts, there can be a big problem.
Then we pack up all the extra donuts. Every night Grandpa drops them off at the police station, the firehouse, and the senior center, so we divide them into three boxes. If there aren’t enough to fill three boxes, then Grandpa puts in some cake or pie so everyone still gets some goodies. As we packed up the boxes at the end of our shift, I started to relax a little bit from the week.
We have something called Family of Five Fridays. Every Friday all five of us are home for an early dinner together, and after dinner we all either watch a movie or play a game. We’ve been doing it ever since I can remember. Jenna tried to get out of it a few times to go out with her friends, but Mom and Dad put their foot down, and she stopped trying. Sometimes we can hang out with friends after school, but we can’t miss dinner.
We were just about done with the boxes when Mom came over with her keys in her hand. “When you’re done closing, just let Nans know,” she said. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Is Nans taking me home?” asked Lindsay.
“Oh!” said Mom. “Didn’t Mike tell you? You’re coming home for dinne
r with us tonight. That way your dad can get Sky in bed and we can try to make sure you don’t get sick too. We’ll run you home after we’re done with game night.”
“Oh,” said Lindsay, and she didn’t seem sad exactly, just kind of uncertain.
So now Lindsay was barging in on Family of Five Friday. I knew it wasn’t nice, but that made me even more crabby. Family of Five Fridays was about our family of five. It wasn’t about “additional guests.” Like I said, I don’t deal well with change.
I sighed.
Why couldn’t anything just stay the same?
Chapter Five Not a Team Player
I got up early on Saturday like I usually do. Jenna is the only one in our family who sleeps in on weekends.
The rest of us are early risers, and when I got downstairs, Mom and Dad had already gone for their run and Molly was sitting at the table reading a book, dressed in her soccer outfit.
“Does anyone know I have field hockey today?” I asked, and Molly looked up.
“Is it on the board?” she asked.
I looked. “Yeah.”
“Then they know. Or at least Mom does.”
I sighed, poured myself a glass of orange juice, and sat down.
On Saturdays Mom doesn’t have to be in the office, so she and Dad go for their run, and then we have a big breakfast.
“Why were you in such a bad mood last night?” Molly asked.
“I wasn’t,” I lied.
“You were,” said Molly matter-of-factly.
She turned the page of her book. Molly was always able to do more than one thing at a time.
“And honestly, I’m not sure you were too friendly to Lindsay,” she added
“I don’t think I was unfriendly,” I said.
I just kind of ignored Lindsay. Which you could say wasn’t very friendly. I was just so mad to have her crash our Family Friday night.
“So what’s up?” Molly asked.
I decided not to answer her and went upstairs to get dressed for field hockey. I had played last year, but it was basically just for fun. I wasn’t sure what to expect with something more competitive.
I texted Sophia to see what she was wearing, then settled on shorts, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt, since it was getting a little chilly this time of year. I put my hair in a ponytail and looked at my face in the mirror.
Jenna started wearing a little makeup in high school, but Mom was really strict about what she could wear.
I noticed that some of the girls in my class were wearing makeup this year. It was weird: the day before school started, nobody was wearing any makeup when we were at the lake, and then the next day at school, a lot of girls just showed up with lip gloss and mascara and even, in the case of Marina Miles, blush.
I didn’t think I could push it, and it was just field hockey practice, so I brushed my hair out, put on a little bit of the pink lip gloss Jenna had given me, and went downstairs.
“Are you wearing lip gloss to hockey practice?” asked Molly. My sister does not miss a thing.
“No,” I said sarcastically. “My lips are naturally this shiny and pink.”
She scowled at me.
Mom and Dad came through the side door, panting and laughing.
“I was not that slow today,” said Dad.
Mom shook her head. “Your pace was off,” she said. “It was like running with a turtle.”
Everyone in my family was active, which was great, but they were also competitive. Mom and Dad didn’t just go on a weekly run together, they actually raced each other.
Molly was a little nuts about soccer and always played in the competitive league, and Jenna is one of the stars on the tennis team and is always talking about her form. She’s a great player, but she can be a little annoying when she talks about tennis.
Me, well, I like sports and I like to play, but I don’t always care who wins the game. So I wasn’t really nervous about field hockey, just more curious about what it would be like.
Dad took a quick shower and drove me to the town field where everybody goes to practice.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked as I opened the car door.
“You don’t have to,” I said. “But it ends at noon, so can you pick me up then?”
“I’ll be here!” said Dad.
He waited until I trotted over to the field and then waved and drove off.
Sophia was waiting for me on the field, as planned. Hannah was already there talking to her, and I spotted Olivia walking toward them. I could also see Michelle already snapping tons of photos from the sidelines. It was an all-middle-school team, so there were also a lot of older girls who were hanging out together.
Hannah waved to Olivia, and Olivia walked over to us.
“Hi,” she said shyly. “Anyone else a little nervous?”
Hannah looked around. “Well, if it’s just the four of us and they need representation from every class, it looks like we’re in without even having to show them we know how to hold a stick!”
We all laughed.
“Oh, speaking of representation,” said Olivia. “I nominated you, Kelsey, for the class representative.”
“You did?” I said, surprised.
“Yeah, I asked Casey, and she said she and Lindsay were suggesting you to everyone because you’re such a good listener. And Lindsay said you were really supportive, too.”
“She’s the best listener,” said Sophia, flinging her arm around me. “I’d vote for her for anything!”
“Oh speaking of voting,” I said. “Olivia, I hear you’re running for student council with Hannah.”
“Yes! Vote for us!” said Hannah, smiling.
“Well, the two of you have my vote too,” I said.
“Thanks!” said Olivia. “That means a lot.”
She said it really warmly, and I realized that maybe she was nice. Maybe it was just that I didn’t know her well enough before.
“Hey, we should post pictures of our practice on our campaign page,” suggested Hannah.
She took out her phone, and she and Olivia grinned for a selfie.
“I’ll caption this, ‘We’re on the team and we are a team!’ ” Hannah said.
“Oh, that’s good!” said Olivia. “But we’re not on the team yet.”
Coach Wickstead blew her whistle. “Okay, girls!” she shouted.
She called us over, then split us into teams of six so we could play three on three. Then she divided the field and assigned us our spot.
I was paired with two older girls, Amanda and Tracey. Amanda took charge and dropped the ball and we started to play.
I noticed that she grunted a lot and would mutter, “Pass, pass,” or “Defense,” either to herself or to one of us, I wasn’t even sure. It was kind of annoying.
We took a water break and all sat on the side of the field. It was one of those perfect fall days where it was warm and sunny but there was a little bit of a breeze.
Say what you will about being stuck in a small town, like Jenna and Lindsay do, but we were stuck in a beautiful town, that’s for sure. The old oak trees around the field were thick and tall, and you could hear the brook behind them actually bubbling. There was blue sky forever. If you leaned back and looked up, it felt like you were inside a big, blue snow globe.
The whistle blew again and we finished our last scrimmage. Coach Wickstead had us log our stats at the end of the practice.
Amanda wrote ours down. “Don’t worry,” she said to me. “This is just the first practice.”
I was surprised, because I hadn’t really been worried. I mean, I hadn’t scored, but I didn’t think I’d played badly.
As we were walking to the parking lot, I told Sophia what Amanda had said.
“Oh, she’s the star player,” she said. “She lives and breathes field hockey. Don’t mind her.”
Dad was waiting by the car, watching my cousin Rich practice lacrosse on the field next to us. He waved to Rich, then turned to me.
“How�
�d it go, kiddo?” he asked.
“It was okay,” I said. “Next practice is Monday.”
“I didn’t want to hover,” said Dad, “or make you nervous.”
“Why would I be nervous?” I asked. “It was just a practice! Plus, it was fun!”
“Well,” said Dad. “You know the coaches are still watching to see where the strengths are and who might play each position. Plus, Jenna…”
“Oh, well, Jenna is kind of nuts about that stuff,” I said.
“Yes, she is,” said Dad. “But she’s conditioned us!”
Jenna is insanely superstitious about who comes to her matches, where we sit, and even, one year, what Mom wears.
Jenna had won a really tough match one time when Mom was wearing a sweatshirt, and Jenna made Mom wear that same sweatshirt to every match she had for the rest of the season. By the last match we called it the “stinky sweatshirt,” even though Mom swore she washed it after each wear. It’s totally bonkers.
We drove over to Molly’s soccer practice, and Dad and I sat on the bleachers, watching. Molly liked Dad to watch her practices and games, and they always talked about them afterward.
I spotted Riley and Isabella on the field. Riley was right; she was really good, and pretty confident on the field. She and Molly were passing the ball back and forth, smiling at each other and nodding.
Then she and Isabella passed the ball back and forth. Isabella wasn’t as fast or as great with her foot skills, which for some reason made me just a little happy. Maybe she wouldn’t make the team.
“Wow, I didn’t know Riley was playing soccer instead of hockey with you,” Dad said.
“Yeah,” I said, and stopped. I didn’t know if I felt like getting into it.
“So some of the peas in the pod split?” Dad asked, clearly wanting to know more.
“We didn’t split,” I said testily. “Riley just thinks she’s better at soccer, that’s all.”
Dad looked at me closely but didn’t push it. Instead he said, “I was just making a little joke. Split peas… get it?”
I groaned.
“Hiya!” Riley waved to us as the practice ended. “How was hockey?”
“It was okay,” I said. “You looked good.”
“Did I?” Riley asked, and grinned. “That’s good to hear. Your sister is a real monster out there. I hope I can keep up with her.”