BAM! She kicked the ball hard on the ground. It toppled end over end a short ten yards. Lucy ran behind it as her teammates ferociously blocked so that Lucy could pounce on it. And she did!
She hit the ground with the ball and curled around it protectively, holding onto it as if her life depended on it. Suddenly, WHAM! She felt as if a piano had been dropped on her . . . and then another piano . . . and then a concert grand piano, as Oakwood dogpiled on her at the forty-five-yard line, frantically trying to jar the ball loose from Lucy’s arms. At the moment the referee blew his whistle and signaled a recovered onside kick, the cleats of one of the Oakwood tacklers in the pile forcefully jammed into Lucy’s recently injured right ankle, sending a wave of searing pain and then nausea through her body.
Oh, please, God, she groaned to herself. Please don’t let me puke here. Puking was bad enough. Puking in public was beyond traumatizing.
On the sidelines, the team went crazy. In the stands, the fans stomped and clapped and cheered.The band blared and the cheerleaders bounced as the Oakwood guys were pulled off Lucy, one by one. Her own teammate,Aidan, helped her up, practically peeling her off the ground. She felt as if she’d been flattened by a Mack truck.As soon as she stood up and tried to put any weight on her reinjured ankle, her leg gave out. It hurt so badly she could barely stand it. Aidan helped her clear off the field and led her to the bench.
Coach Offredi rushed over. “Are you okay?” he asked. Lucy took off her helmet.
“Yeah . . . it just . . . it just really hurts,” she answered with tears in her eyes.
Coach Offredi beamed at her. “Nice job, kid.”
Lucy forced a smile. “Thanks.” If it hadn’t been for the searing pain, she would have been able to appreciate the magnitude of what she had just done. She looked up at the clock. It read :54.
As the Beachwood offense took the field for what would be their final possession, Coach Offredi shouted to Ryan. “We just need to get inside the thirty. Just inside the thirty. We need fifteen yards right now! Fifteen yards! Let’s go! Let’s go, Beachwood! Time is now!”
A handoff to Little Jimmy advanced Beachwood seven yards, and a lateral pass to Nick, who dove for the three yards, gave Beachwood a first down. The clock read :28.
The Beachwood team huddled on the field.This was it. Their last chance. They had to get close enough for Lucy to kick. But the question was, would she be able to? Her ankle had swelled so much, she’d just taken off her shoe. The trainer rushed over.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “You okay?”
“It’s just my ankle. . . .” Her voice wavered. “I think I need . . . I don’t know ... maybe to retape it?”The trainer grabbed his bag and frantically started retaping Lucy’s ankle.
On the field, Ryan called out the play. “Green light . . . green light . . . seventy-four.” The ball was snapped. Ryan took the snap and faked a handoff to Kevin, who ran off-tackle, drawing the attention of most of the Oakwood defense. Ryan then took one step to his right and sprang through the hole created when the Oakwood defensive tackle went after Kevin, diving for seven yards and another first down. They were within field goal range!
Hurriedly, the trainer finished taping Lucy. Coach Offredi ran over. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he asked, adamantly, his mustache twitching like mad. He looked at Lucy trying to pull her shoe over her swollen ankle. “No, NO!” he yelled. “What’s this?”
“I’m fine!” Lucy said, rushing to tie her laces.
“Fine? Your ankle’s swelled up to the size of Texas!”
Coach Offredi motioned to the ref for Beachwood’s last time-out.
One of the assistant coaches said, “Make the call. You want to put in Benji instead?”
Coach Offredi put his head in his hands. It wasn’t what he wanted, but he had no choice. Lucy spoke up.
“I can go in,” she said. “I want to go in. This one’s mine.”
Coach Offredi looked at her, amazed. “You sure?”
She nodded vigorously. She needed to finish this. She had something to prove. To her coaches, to her teammates . . . to herself.
She stood up. “Okay, let’s go.” Throbbing pain shot through her ankle, as if someone had just hit her anklebone with a hammer. Limping, she jogged out onto the field. She glanced at the clock. It read :14.
Beachwood took their positions for what would certainly be the last play of the game. Lucy said a quick prayer. Mom, please help me do this, she thought to herself. Please help me.
The crowd waited in breathless anticipation. Everything became still. Benji gave Caleb the signal. Caleb snapped the ball back . . . but it was off-line. So off-line that Benji had no chance to catch it cleanly.
Horrified, Lucy watched the ball tumble to the ground at her feet.
“Oh my God,” Lucy said aloud. She glanced around, panicked. She couldn’t let Oakwood get their hands on it. Without even thinking, she scooped it up and did the only thing she could do.
RUN!
Benji sprang up, blocking for her. His action allowed her to cut through an open hole. She was careful not to go over the line of scrimmage as she headed toward the sideline. She tucked the ball into her body and was so terrified she didn’t even notice the throbbing pain in her ankle.
She saw the Oakwood defensive end and two linebackers barreling toward her, and she knew she was never going to make it to the end zone. If they hit her, she might not even make it to tomorrow!
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she saw Kevin in the end zone in front of the goalpost. Seeing her frantic scramble, he cut across the end zone back toward the left sideline, trying to get open.
The clock ran down. Six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .
Lucy hurled the ball as hard as she could in Kevin’s direction.
He lunged for it, reaching out just as his body—WHAM!—hit the ground. For a moment, Lucy couldn’t tell what had happened . . . and then Kevin reached up, holding the football triumphantly in one hand! The referee raised both arms over his head! They had done it!
Lucy sank to her knees, collapsing with relief.
Beachwood had scored! They had won!!!!
On her hands and knees, Lucy tried to catch her breath. Pain shot through her ankle, but she didn’t care. She was in complete and utter shock. Had she really just done that? Had she really just won the game?
The entire team rushed onto the field in celebration. Caleb ran over, hitting Lucy so hard that she almost fell over. She stumbled to keep her balance. He grabbed her arm, steadying her.
“You saved it,” he gasped. “I can’t believe it. That play—it won the game.”
Suddenly, from the back, Ryan picked her up and spun her around.
“What?” he asked, still in shock from what had just happened. “You’re a quarterback now too? Unbelievable pass, Malone!”
Lucy beamed as her teammates hoisted her up on their shoulders. All the fans had rushed the field as well. As she balanced precariously, she felt like she would remember this moment for the rest of her life-the cheering, the fans, the light shining down on her. She watched as Cope and Sascha poured the huge plastic container of water over Coach Offredi. Even dripping wet, he had a tremendous smile across his face. Water droplets gleamed in his mustache as they caught the light. Lucy let out a loud “Go Beachwood!” Then looked around. Where was Benji? She scanned the crowd.
And from above everyone’s heads, she saw something that nearly made her topple off the shoulders she was perched upon.
“Put me down,” she said, tapping Tank’s shoulders. “Please, put me down.” The guys obliged.
She took off her helmet, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her dad was walking toward her. Lucy’s heart sank. After everything that had happened, was this really how her night would end? Getting yelled at and grounded for life? Again?
But then she saw something in his hand. Flowers. She realized he had a huge smile on his face.
“Dad?” she
asked hesitantly, as if this were too good to be true.
“Kid, you were amazing out there.” He smiled proudly.
Lucy was stunned. “You’re not . . . mad?”
Her dad shook his head. “I’m so proud of you, Luce.”
She couldn’t believe it. “How did you know I was playing?”
“Martie called,” he admitted. “She said there was something I needed to see.” He looked at the field, then had to ask. “Did you plan to pass the ball like that?”
“Not exactly,” Lucy admitted.
“I didn’t know you could throw like that.” He laughed, impressed.
“A pretty great guy taught me,” she reminded him.
Her dad smiled and pulled her into an enormous bear hug. “You were right, kid. About everything. And I’m—” He stopped. It was hard to get the words out.
She smiled. “I know.”
“Your mom would have been so proud of you tonight,” he told her. “You’re just like her. She never listened to me, either . . .and nine times out of ten, that was a good thing.” Lucy couldn’t help but laugh; then she hugged her dad tightly. He finally understood. He finally got it.
Suddenly, Coach Offredi’s voice boomed loudly above the noise.
“Gather around, everyone!” Everyone on the field—players, fans, and parents—stopped what they were doing. Dr. Cane, evidently a fixture at every game, quieted the crowd.
“Normally, we’d do this in the locker room,” Coach Offredi admitted. “But in the spirit of the night, of homecoming, of this great win . . . I’d like to congratulate the entire team on their victory and their heart . . . and announce tonight’s MVP.” He raised the football he was holding and fired a pass to Lucy, who miraculously caught it.
“Lucy Malone,” he announced. “MVP. You were tough out there tonight. As tough as any guy. I speak for everyone when I say we’re proud to call you a Beachwood player. I know you’ve had to overcome a lot to be a part of this team . . . but tonight, in front of everyone, I’m happy to say, you are a part of this team, Lucy. So here’s to you.”
Lucy felt her eyes well up with tears—this time, happy ones.
Part of her wanted to laugh. After all, the other players were considered “part of the team” simply by making the cut. She’d had to do so much for the same rank. It was ironic, really. But in the end she had proved herself—and it was worth it.
“Thank you.” Lucy nodded, choking back her emotions. “Thank you so much.” And she meant it, from the bottom of her heart.
As she accepted the applause of everyone around her, she reveled in this feeling. This was what it felt like to actually belong. She glanced around.
The only thing missing from the moment was Benji.
Saturday night was the homecoming dance.
Lucy’s dad waved as he dropped her off at school that night. “Call me when you’re ready to be picked up,” he instructed. “And kid?” He smiled. “Have fun.”
Lucy grinned. “I will.” She decided to leave her jacket in the car so she wouldn’t lose it. Now she hurried into the school, her bare arms covered in goose bumps. She walked into the gym and suddenly felt tentative. She told herself that plenty of people were probably going alone . . . but it didn’t make it easier to be alone. However, she quickly realized she wasn’t: Morbid was heading her way.
“Hey,” Morbid said, looking down at her shoes and keeping her voice low.
“Hi.” Lucy smiled.
Morbid looked around, as if she were worried about people seeing her. When she seemed satisfied that no one was looking, she admitted, “You were great last night. You know, at the game. I got some good shots of that pass. I could e-mail them to you if you wanted. You know, the pictures.”
Lucy smiled, grateful. This was only one of two times that Morbid had been in her vicinity without growling. “Thanks, that’d be cool,” she said.
Morbid shrugged, “You’re welcome. Anyway, okay . . . well, I’m going to go find my friends.” Lucy couldn’t help but be surprised—and envious. Wow. Even Morbid had friends.
“Hey, Lucy,” Cope said, walking by. “You look great.” She smiled and glanced down at her little black dress. “A step up from cleats and pads, huh?”
Cope laughed. “I’d say.” Then he pointed across the gym. “The guys are over there. Wanna come?”
Lucy nodded and followed Cope over. As she snaked her way through the gym, she passed by Regan, who was slow dancing with Kevin. She turned to get past Kendall, who was in the arms of . . .
. . . Ryan?
Lucy’s eyes widened. She blinked twice. Surely she was seeing things. What would Ryan be doing with Kendall?
Suddenly, Cope answered. “Oh! Those two? They’ve been hooking up on and off since eighth grade. He always likes other girls, but somehow Kendall pulls him back in every time.” Lucy realized she’d accidentally asked the question out loud.
She couldn’t believe it. Kendall and Ryan? KENDALL AND RYAN? Now everything made sense. No wonder Kendall hated her so much. And suddenly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Ryan.
“What makes sense?” Cope asked. Lucy realized she’d done it again.
“Never mind,” she muttered. She looked around and saw the soccer girls huddled together across the gym. Charlie was gesturing to Lucy and saying something to Pickle. Lucy sighed. They were talking about her. She wondered how she was ever going to make things right.
Suddenly, she was elbowed in the side. Hard. Lucy stumbled back.
“Oops,” Kendall said loudly as Cope patted Ryan on the back.
“Hey man,” Ryan said to Cope. “Who’re you here with?” The boys turned toward each other, caught up in their own conversation.
“Oh, I thought I hit someone,” Kendall remarked.“But all I see is a big, giant nothing, in desperate need of a new hairstyle.”
Next to her, Regan giggled loudly.
Lucy took a deep breath. This was going to be so satisfying.
“You know what, Kendall?” she said. “You’re a bitch. And Regan? You’re even worse than that. What you do to people—to me, to Charlie—all for the sake of what? Getting in with her?” Lucy pointed to Kendall. “As if that’s so great. What exactly do you love about it? Getting her drinks? Doing her dirty work? That’s not a friendship. It’s a dictatorship.”
Lucy shook her head. Regan looked as though she were about to cry, as if this were the first time these thoughts had dawned on her.
“I feel sorry for you,” Lucy continued. “You had Charlie as your best friend.You gave up a really good thing with a really great person. And here’s a news flash, Regan: Once you’re out of high school, no one gives a crap how popular you are. People care about what kind of person you’ve become. And next year? Kendall won’t be here. We will. So think about that.Think about where you’re gonna be then.” Lucy smiled, satisfied. “And enjoy.”
Lucy turned to go, but Ryan grabbed her arm. “Malone, wait—what about that dance?”
Lucy looked him in the eye. “I think you have your dance partner already.”
She hurried off, leaving Ryan. Kendall sidled up to him, threading her arm through his, but he just wiggled out of her grasp.
Meanwhile, Lucy headed for the door. She didn’t know where she was going. Just out of there. She liked Ryan. She really did. But if he could take a girl like Kendall to homecoming, a girl who thrived on humiliating other people . . . what did that say about him? She’d been so busy seeing all the things that he was, she hadn’t noticed what he wasn’t.
Playing With the Boys Page 23
