by Mike Lupica
“No,” he said. “Coach wants you to make a throw.”
She quieted her mind, telling herself not to think about what might go wrong.
Make a throw.
Win the game, like Coach had told her to.
This time it was Gabe who quietly said, “We got this.”
The Bears blitzed. They came up the middle and from both sides of the line. Alex had no time to get the ball to Gabe, no choice but to run out of the pocket, away from the pressure. There was space to her left. If she could find Gabe, it was going to be harder to make a throw as a right-hander running on the left. Alex knew she could do it, though. If she could get it to him.
Before the defense got to her.
She caught a glimpse of Gabe running back in her direction from where he’d been in the middle of the field.
Truth or dare, Alex thought.
Run or pass.
The girl her dad had dubbed a triple threat decided she had to run for the first down. The pass was too risky, and she was nearly out of time.
Get around the corner, get to the first-down marker.
Win the game.
She faked a throw and pulled the ball down, looking ahead to see one Bears player between her and the marker. It was one of their linebackers. No. 53. He’d been in her face plenty of times today. Now there he was again.
Until he wasn’t.
Gabe had flown in from the guy’s left, clearing him out with a perfect, clean, and legal block.
Alex not only got past the marker, she wasn’t even forced to run out of bounds as more defenders came for her. She simply went into her slide.
First down.
Ball game.
Football.
Yeah.
This was why.
She was going to enjoy it for as long as she possibly could.
27
Alex and Sophie made a plan to meet for ice cream that afternoon. Sophie’s grandparents were in town, so she was eating lunch at home.
“Leave room for ice cream,” Alex said.
“There’s always room for ice cream,” Sophie said.
Alex’s dad took her to lunch at their local diner. He planned to drop her in town to meet Sophie while he went to the hardware store to pick up a few things.
“What kind of things?” Alex said.
“Fix-it-type things,” he said.
“Dad,” she said. “I thought we agreed that fix-it-type things weren’t really your thing.”
“It’s Saturday,” he said. “I just feel like the hardware store is somewhere I should be.”
Alex laughed. “Just don’t try to fix anything in my room,” she said. “Remember what happened last time?”
They both knew she meant the time he hammered his own finger trying to hang a shelf on her wall. His nail never grew back the same.
Now he smiled at her across the table.
“You were great today,” he said.
She shook her head.
“No?” he said.
“I wasn’t great,” she said. “But I was very good.”
“Fun, right?” he said.
“Sophie told me I better start having fun again,” she said. “Or it won’t be worth it.”
“Maybe that’s a sort of fix-it project for you,” her dad said.
“Unfortunately, nothing at the hardware store can help with that.”
“You sure you don’t want to come and hang with me before you meet Sophie?”
Alex shrugged. “Kind of going to make that my last pass of the day,” she said.
* * *
• • •
Jack parked at the hardware store. It was a pretty small town, so Alex’s dad let her roam by herself, within reason. Taylor Books was adjacent to the hardware store, and Bostwick’s was across the street. Alex told her dad she was going to stop at the bookstore before meeting Sophie. Being surrounded by books made her feel smarter, somehow, even without having to open them. Though, of course, she did open them. Especially books about football. Right now, she was reading a nonfiction book about Jim Thorpe, a Native American athlete.
Jim Thorpe inspired her because he was the first Native American to win a gold medal for the United States. The first. She knew she wasn’t the first girl to ever join a football team. There were other women she’d read about. High school and college-age players who fought to play. But reading and hearing about their stories seemed so far away from Orville, Pennsylvania, and the Owls football team. Though they did encourage her to keep going and keep fighting.
She was still on cloud nine. She’d made a play to win the game. It wasn’t the only play that had helped the Owls come out on top, and it wasn’t the one Coach called. When it was all on the line, Alex had called her own number.
But the high she felt wasn’t just from the game. It was also from what Coach Mencken said to her afterward.
He’d pulled her aside, walking away from her teammates.
“Something I need to tell you,” he said.
Alex’s stomach coiled in knots. She thought she’d just done something good for her team. But it was like she was trained to expect bad news. She looked up at Coach, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ll be the first to admit, I didn’t think you could do this.” He paused. “But you can.”
Alex’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”
“And I hate to say it, but I didn’t want you on this team,” he said.
“Had a feeling,” she said, “even if you didn’t come right out and say it like the other guys.”
“You deserve an apology,” he said. “I was wrong. Dead wrong. And I’m sorry. I hope the guys on the team come around, and I’ll do whatever I can to help make that happen.”
“Thanks, Coach,” Alex said. There was nothing else she could say. It was more than she could have hoped for. Having Coach in her corner was all she needed. Even if the others never grew to accept her.
A permanent smile had been plastered on her face ever since. But it began to fall when Alex spotted Annie Burgess coming into the bookstore, still dressed in her soccer uniform. Alex knew the girls’ soccer team had a game this morning against Valley Falls.
Last season, Annie, a center back on defense and one of the team captains, had been Alex’s best friend on the team. But so far at school, they’d hardly spoken. Alex just assumed she was on Team Jeff.
Alex thought the whole idea of there being a Team Jeff vs. Team Alex was as dumb as a bag of hammers, to borrow a phrase from her dad.
There was, she knew, no way to avoid Annie.
Or vice versa.
“Hey,” Alex said.
“Hey,” was Annie’s abrupt reply.
Already it was awkward, but nothing Alex wasn’t accustomed to. Other than Jabril and Sophie, there wasn’t anyone in the entire seventh grade who wasn’t awkward toward her these days.
“You guys win?” Alex said.
“Yeah,” Annie said. “What about you?”
“Squeaked one out.”
“Did you get to play?”
“Played most of the game,” Alex said. “Surprisingly.”
They were keeping to small talk. But at least they were talking.
“Did you play well?” Annie asked.
Alex wasn’t sure how to answer that, especially with so many of her classmates thinking she was stuck on herself. But she had played well. And she was allowed to say that.
“I did,” she said. “Got lucky and made a big run at the end to kind of clinch things for us. What about you?”
Annie didn’t hesitate.
“I moved up and scored a goal,” she said, a grin forming. “First one since last season.”
“Annie, that’s amazing!” Alex said. “I always thought you’d be one of our best scorers if yo
u played up front. Coach kept you back because you’re the best defender we have.”
“Sounds like you’re still on the team,” Annie said, her expression transitioning to one that was both sad and annoyed. “Only you’re not.”
“C’mon, Annie,” Alex said. “You know me. You know I’m still rooting for you guys.”
“Then why did you quit?” It was the question she was expecting, but it still felt like a punch to the gut.
The question hung in the air between them. Suddenly, Alex felt as if Annie was back on offense.
“I quit to try something else,” Alex said, a little tired of having to explain herself.
“What’s wrong with soccer?” Annie said.
“Nothing!” said Alex. “But haven’t you ever wanted to see if you could be great at something else?”
Annie shuffled uncomfortably, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
“I didn’t do anything to the team,” Alex continued. “I just did this for myself. Can’t anybody understand that?”
“We—I mean, the other girls and I—think we could have won the regional championship if you’d stayed on the team. Now we might not.”
“I wasn’t that good!” Alex said, surprised at how hot the words came out.
“You made us better,” Annie said. It was a compliment, but it didn’t come out like one.
“You guys are still good enough without me,” Alex said. “I know that, and I haven’t even seen you play yet.”
Annie glanced past Alex, as if looking for a way out of the conversation. But she didn’t walk away.
“There’s just been a lot of talk about you,” she said.
“Let me guess,” Alex said. “Most of it is from Lindsey Stiles.”
Annie said, “Well, yeah. She and Jeff are stirring the pot.”
“Why Lindsey cares, I have no idea,” Alex said. “It’s not like she and I had much to do with each other even when I was on the team.”
“She just thinks it’s wrong that you’re trying to take Jeff’s job,” Annie said. “And that you didn’t even have to do this.”
Doing more than trying, Alex thought. It gave her a brief rush of optimism.
“All I’m doing is what you did today in soccer: competing. You were given a chance at another position today, and you were great. Why shouldn’t I have that same opportunity?”
Annie shook her head. “Not the same.”
“It’s exactly the same,” Alex said. “And as soon as you all accept that, we can finally move on with our lives.”
All the frustration had finally come to a head, and Alex was relieved to say out loud what she’d been thinking all along. It was time everyone got over themselves.
“I have to go,” Annie said.
“So that’s it?” Alex said. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” Annie said. “Just not right now.”
Alex shook her head. “Being somebody’s friend isn’t a part-time job.”
Annie started past her, but Alex took a step to block her way.
“Do me a favor,” Alex said. “When you see Lindsey, tell her she was wrong. I did have to do this.”
Then Annie was past her and gone, out the front door and walking quickly up Main Street, away from Alex. The center back on Team Jeff.
28
The Owls won their next two games. In the first one, Jeff got more snaps than Alex and managed to complete more passes than he had in any game all season.
He kept telling kids at school, spreading the word that he deserved to be the quarterback. Alex thought that for once he’d lived up to all his big talk.
In the second game, against the Camden Heights Vikings, Jeff had a terrible first quarter and Coach took him out early. At least the game was still scoreless when he did. Jabril was to thank for that, along with the rest of the defensive line.
Just like when they’d played the Bears, the game took a turn for the Owls’ offense as soon as Alex took the field. Whatever the guys thought about her being on the team, whatever they were saying behind her back, it was clear they responded to her presence behind center. Jabril told her that a lot of the guys privately admitted they knew she was better than Jeff. Why they couldn’t say it out loud was a mystery to Alex. It’s not like Jeff was the king of England.
“Which guys think that?” Alex had asked, curious who among them might be turning a corner.
“Can’t tell you,” he said. “Promised I wouldn’t.” He shot Alex a prize-winning grin. It was like Sophie’s, in that seeing it suddenly made Alex feel better about everything. “I know how to be a good teammate even if some of my brothers still haven’t figured that out.”
“I’m a good teammate, right?” Alex said, elbowing him in the side.
“As good as you are a QB,” he said.
She showed how good a QB she was against the Vikings right away. The team went on a long drive that resulted in a touchdown run from Tariq, followed by an even longer drive in the third quarter that ended with Alex completing a pass to Lewis Healey for his first touchdown of the season. She didn’t say anything to him after his catch and run, and he didn’t say anything to her. Not even when they got back to the sideline. By then, he was trying to disguise his happiness in front of his pal Jeff.
But Alex knew the truth about the wide receivers, even the ones who didn’t like her: they really didn’t care who was getting them the ball as long as somebody was.
The Owls won, 13–0, extending their record to 4-1. As usual, Jabril was everywhere on defense, making tackles, forcing turnovers, making the Vikings’ quarterback probably wish he’d chosen another fall sport.
Coach pulled her aside for another private chat once the game ended. Their chats never lasted long, but he seemed to enjoy them. So did Alex. It was just another way football was surprising her recently.
It seemed to Alex that Coach Mencken had gone from tolerating, to accepting, to actually favoring her as a player.
“Between us?” he said.
Alex nodded.
“I know you want to start,” he said, “just because who wouldn’t?”
“My dad always said it doesn’t matter who’s out there to start the game as much as who’s out there to finish it,” she said.
“Maybe so,” he said. “But I feel it’s my responsibility to explain why you’re not starting. Our team is going good with the way we’re doing things. We seem to have found our stride. I just don’t want to mess with success.”
“I don’t want to either,” Alex said.
He nodded. Might even have smiled. Alex wasn’t sure.
“Good game today,” he said. “But you’re a smart kid, so you probably knew that already.”
To Alex’s disappointment, Jabril and his dad had already left. He was the only teammate who usually stuck around to celebrate with Alex while the rest of the team drifted off to the locker room. She searched for Gabe, thinking maybe they could talk about the game now that no one was around. But he was gone, too.
Sophie, though, was waiting for her near the bleachers with Jack Carlisle, both with looks on their faces that said they knew something she didn’t.
“What?” she said, her eyes flitting from Sophie to her dad.
At which point her goofball dad struck one of Sophie’s cheerleader poses, arms straight down at his sides, before going into the clasp.
“Oh god,” Alex said. “Stop before somebody else sees.”
“Sophie taught me the vault. Wanna see?”
“Please don’t,” Alex said, shielding her eyes.
“You know, he’s actually not bad,” Sophie said.
“I’m begging you both,” Alex said, this time backing up, like the embarrassment was too much.
“I’ll go get the car,” her dad said, to Alex’s relief.
Sophie s
idled up to Alex and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“Hey, girl,” she said. “How we lookin’?”
“Still a long way to go,” Alex said.
“You’re allowed to celebrate the wins, you know.”
“Well, the wins won’t matter unless we make it to the championship,” Alex said.
“Not talking about games,” said Sophie. “You’ve come a long way since tryouts. Take some time to recognize that.”
Alex knew she was right. Just like she knew how lucky she was to have a friend like Sophie.
“Good point,” she said.
With that, they walked off the field together.
* * *
• • •
The Steelers had been on the road the past couple of Sundays. But they were back at Heinz Field this week to play the Baltimore Ravens.
This time Alex had more reason to be excited than she usually was for a season game. Despite the fact that he didn’t play for the Steelers, Lamar Jackson, the quarterback for the Ravens, was her favorite player on the planet. The only reason she didn’t have a poster of him on her bedroom wall was because she thought it would be disloyal to her team.
Because the Steelers and Ravens were in the same division, she got to see Lamar Jackson in person once a year. This was the Sunday she always circled on her Steelers calendar. Now it was here.
She loved watching Lamar play. Alex’s dad said he was the fastest guy to ever play quarterback in the NFL, and Alex was sure he was right. She couldn’t imagine anybody being faster. But it was more than that. Alex had followed him in college and knew that while he’d won the Heisman Trophy, people wondered if he could throw well enough to be the same kind of star in the pros that he’d been when he played for Louisville. Alex remembered one guy on ESPN saying that the Ravens should think about turning him into a wide receiver. She immediately changed the channel. She didn’t think he was just going to be good for the Ravens.
She thought he was going to be great. And once he got his chance to get on the field, during his rookie season, he proved her right. He made all the throws and made up plays when being chased. The way he played made it seem effortless.
