by Mike Lupica
“How’s the knee feel?” Sophie said to Gabe.
“I’ll handle that one,” Jabril said. “I asked him the same thing when my dad drove us over here.” He grinned. “It didn’t go well.”
“Um,” Gabe said. “It didn’t not go well.”
“Unless you were the one asking the question,” Jabril muttered under his breath.
“All I said was that if one more person asked me how I felt, my head was going to explode.”
“But Sophie just did,” Alex said, “and your head looks fine to me.”
Their pizzas arrived at the table. One medium cheese for Alex and Jabril. A large pepperoni for Gabe and Sophie, who both had appetites the size of the entire pizzeria.
“So,” Alex said now to Gabe, “how’s the knee?”
He laughed along with the rest of them, shaking his head.
As they ate, they discussed Lindsey’s idea about the girls raising money. At one point Jabril said to Alex, “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“What’s the difference who gives you the money?” he said. “Whether they’re your parents, or donations, or whatever. It’s all gravy as long as it comes from somewhere, right?”
Alex paused long enough to fork a piece of pepperoni from Gabe’s plate.
“I know this might not make sense,” Alex said, “but if we get the money from our parents or relatives, it’ll almost be like they’re buying us a team instead of us earning it ourselves.”
“She’s right,” Sophie said, biting into her second slice of pizza.
Jabril nodded, understanding Alex’s point of view now. “So all you have to do is come up with a better plan than Lindsey’s?”
He said it as though it were as easy as pie.
“It’s not like I’m trying to compete against Lindsey,” Alex clarified. “More that I think we can take her idea and make it even better.”
They ate in silence, each thinking of ways the soccer team might raise the money.
“I’ve got it!” Sophie said, once she’d cleared her plate. “A bake sale!”
They all stared at her, the way most of the people at Sam’s suddenly were.
“That’s it?” Jabril said. “That’s your idea? You’re gonna save the season with cookies?”
“Don’t be silly,” Sophie said. “Brownies too.” She playfully nudged Jabril in the side. “No, for real—the cheerleaders sometimes hold school-wide bake sales to raise money for championship entrance fees. We usually make a lot of dough . . . pun intended.”
“Sophie,” Alex said, “you know I love you. But we’d need to host like fifty bake sales to even come close to raising enough money.”
“That’s a lot of cookies . . .” Gabe said.
“I guess you’re right,” Sophie said, “but keep it in your back pocket.”
They kicked around some other ideas, but none of them amounted to much. Jabril eventually suggested a raffle, which didn’t sound like a terrible idea. But when Alex asked what they could raffle off—
“How about a car?” he said.
Now they all glared at him.
“Dude,” Gabe said. “Where do you plan on getting a free car?”
Jabril shrugged. “Perry Moses’s dad sells cars.”
Perry was one of their football teammates. His dad worked at the Ford dealership in Orville.
“They’re not just gonna donate a car,” Gabe said.
“Hey,” Jabril said, “crazier things have happened.”
When they had all chipped in to pay for the pizza, Sophie suggested they go for ice cream. Alex asked if she thought ice cream might help them come up with an idea.
“Well,” Sophie said, “it certainly couldn’t hurt.”
It was when they were outside, on their way to Bostwick’s, that they saw Chase Gwinn heading in their direction with Johnny Gallotta, one of his teammates on the boys’ seventh-grade soccer team.
Chase wasn’t just the best boys’ player their age in Orville, he was one of the best in this part of Pennsylvania. He played center middie. Johnny played on his right.
Alex hadn’t spent much time around Chase, but she loved watching him play when she checked out the boys’ games. But Sophie was always talking about how cocky he was. Alex didn’t know him well enough to know if he was or wasn’t. She’d always had a hard time knowing where confidence stopped and cockiness began.
She’d asked Gabe one time if he liked Chase, and he’d said, “Almost as much as he likes himself.”
In addition to playing for Orville Middle in the fall, Chase also played in a travel league. Sophie, who seemed to know everything that was happening with everybody at their school, said that playing on both teams meant he was practicing or competing almost every single day.
Alex hadn’t seen many of his games last fall because she was so busy with football. But when she had watched him play, she’d noticed that he was usually the fastest player on the field and always seemed to have the ball on a string. To top it off, he had the innate ability to know where everybody was on the field at once. Even the players behind him.
“Hey, you guys,” Chase said to them.
There was a lot of fist-bumping all around as they greeted each other.
“Sorry to hear about the soccer deal,” he said to Alex. “That totally stinks.”
“We’ve been trying to figure out a way to raise money to fund the season ourselves,” Alex said.
Chase shrugged. “Well,” he said, “you’re a football star now. You’ll be fine, right?”
He makes it seem like it’s no big deal.
“It’s not just about me,” she said. “It’s about every player on the team.”
“But spring soccer isn’t as important as fall soccer, right?” he said. “That’s what everybody considers the real season.”
“Is that how you feel about your team?” Sophie asked.
“Soccer’s never out of season for me,” he said, a little smugly.
Alex knew that Sophie couldn’t stop herself from being Sophie.
“Well,” she said to Chase, “think about how you’d feel if your season were canceled.”
“Luckily we don’t have to,” Johnny said. “Our season’s still happening.”
Alex had heard of people having ESP and could swear she felt Sophie’s anger coursing through her own body.
Then Chase turned to Alex and said, “I hear you’re pretty good. You know, it’s not too late for you to try out for our team.”
It was an underhanded compliment, and frankly, Alex didn’t care. She didn’t have time for playing games, unless they were soccer games.
“Happy where I am, thanks,” Alex replied, putting some snap into her voice.
She hadn’t expected their run-in with Chase and Johnny to turn so awkward so quickly. But it had. Probably because they failed to express any sympathy for the girls losing their season. So long as they had theirs, nothing else mattered.
“Alex’s team would’ve probably turned out even better than yours by the end of the season,” Jabril remarked.
Chase’s lips turned upward into a nasty grin. “Wait,” he said. “You’re serious?”
“I’ve watched them practice a few times,” Jabril said. “They look good enough to win a championship to me.”
“You seem to know a lot about soccer for a football player,” Chase said.
Jabril winked at Chase. “I know a lot of things about a lot of things.”
“Well,” Chase said, “if we need a practice scrimmage before the start of our actual season, I’ll tell our coach to call up Coach Cross.”
Is that his way of being nice? Alex wondered.
“We’ve got enough players to scrimmage every day,” Alex said. “But thanks for the idea.”
“If you’re not
going to have a season, why bother?” Johnny said.
“Love of the game?” Alex said, and then brushed them off, saying they needed to hurry if they were going to make it to Bostwick’s before their parents came to pick them up.
When they were halfway up the block, Jabril said, “What the heck was that all about?”
“I know,” Sophie said.
ESP, Alex thought.
20
Bostwick’s was all the way on the other side of downtown, on Elm Street, a walk of about six blocks. Alex asked Gabe if it was too long for him, and he said he was so glad to be off crutches, he was willing to walk all the way home. His only request was that they take it slow, and Jabril, Sophie, and Alex were happy to oblige.
“Chase’s sister is on the squad with me,” Sophie said. “She’s still only in sixth grade, but she’s really good.”
Gabe grinned. “Good as you?”
“I’ll ignore that,” Sophie said.
“Withdraw the question,” Gabe said, with his hands up in defense.
“Anyway,” Sophie continued, “she told me one time that Chase was peeved about Alex sucking up all the attention by playing football. He was having a banner season in soccer, but all anybody in town wanted to talk about was Alex playing quarterback.”
“I actually heard the same thing,” Jabril said, “but it sounded so silly I didn’t think it was worth talking about.”
“Well,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes, “apparently it was to Chase, God’s gift to soccer.”
Alex couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“You’re telling me that Chase was jealous? Of me?”
“Don’t act so surprised,” Jabril said with a laugh.
“But I never did anything to him,” Alex said, still confused. “I barely talk to him.”
“We know that,” Sophie said. “I’m just telling you he thinks you took the spotlight away from him.”
The whole thing sent Alex’s head whirling.
They had finally arrived at Bostwick’s. Gabe hadn’t complained about his knee during the walk, but he seemed relieved to finally sit down in a booth across from the counter.
“So Chase is gloating that our season is canceled because he’s got some kind of personal grudge against me?” Alex said. “That makes no sense.”
“I’m not totally sure, but it seems likely,” Sophie said. “Just given the facts.”
“It’s not like I’m in some kind of competition with him,” Alex said.
“He decided you were last fall,” Sophie said, “whether you were aware of it or not. He thought he should be the star of everything, and then you were.”
Jabril had gone up to the counter to pick up their orders. Sophie called over and told him not to forget extra sprinkles for hers.
“You know what I think,” Gabe said. “Maybe you guys should take him up on his offer to scrimmage. I’d pay to see you on the same field, taking them down in person.”
Jabril walked slowly back to their table, carrying a tray with their orders. It was then that they dropped the Chase conversation and concentrated on their ice cream instead.
But when Alex was home an hour later, she did something she’d never done in her life.
She called Lindsey Stiles.
Though that wasn’t the only surprise of the afternoon.
The second was that when Alex asked if she could come over, Lindsey didn’t say no.
“I’ll explain when I get there,” Alex said, and hung up.
21
Lindsey lived close enough that Alex could ride her bike to her house. Her parents used to host get-togethers for the soccer team last year, so Alex had been there several times and knew the way.
Jack told her not to stay too long, reminding Alex that her mom was coming over for dinner.
“You’re actually going to see Lindsey?” he said. “Your nemesis?”
“My teammate,” Alex said, throwing on her coat.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got that look,” he said.
“What look?” Alex said, trying to sound innocent.
“The one you get when you’re on a mission.”
When she got to the Stileses’ house, she rang the bell and Mrs. Stiles answered the door.
“Alex!” she said. “So nice to see you again. I never got the chance to tell you in person how proud I was of what you did on that football team last season.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Stiles,” Alex said, pleasantly surprised that while both her daughter and nephew were less pleased about Alex’s showing on the football team, at least Mrs. Stiles was supportive.
Alex looked past Mrs. Stiles then and saw Lindsey on her way down the steps from the second floor. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t scowling either. It was a neutral expression. Probably to appease her mom until she was out of the room.
Then it occurred to Alex: I’m at Lindsey Stiles’s house. Lindsey. Stiles’s. House.
Suddenly, a feeling of panic overwhelmed her, but it was too late to back out now.
Talk about Hail Mary passes.
“Hey, Alex,” Lindsey said.
“Hey,” Alex replied.
They just stood there, Lindsey on the stairwell, Alex at the front door, looking at each other until Mrs. Stiles made some excuse to leave and scurried into the kitchen.
Could this be any more awkward? Alex thought.
But she had come this far.
“Come in,” Lindsey said. “I’ll grab my jacket and we can sit on the back patio. There’s still enough sun left.”
Lindsey led Alex through the ground floor of the house, and together, they walked into the expansive backyard, which Alex noticed was about three times the size of her own.
But what she also noticed was that Lindsey had the same soccer goal as Alex set up in the grass, with a few balls scattered about.
Same sport. Same team. Same grade at school.
We’ve got so much in common, Alex thought. So how did we end up this far apart?
They sat down on wicker chairs. The furniture looked like what Alex thought someone might find in one of those swanky catalogs.
“So what’s up?” Lindsey said. “It must be important for you to show up here.”
Alex wasted no time. “I think I might have come up with something.”
Then she told Lindsey about running into Chase and what he’d said.
“If it’s not about Chase and how many goals he’s scoring,” Lindsey said, “he tends to lose interest in the conversation.”
Some common ground, Alex thought.
“Not a fan, then?” Alex asked.
“Just of his skills,” Lindsey said. “Not gonna lie. I wish I could play like that.”
Alex nodded.
“Did you come over here to talk about Chase?” she said, as if Alex were already wasting her time.
Alex smiled. “It’s related to Chase.”
“I don’t understand,” Lindsey said.
“It’s about an idea he had. About us scrimmaging against the boys’ team,” Alex said. “They can’t play eleven-on-eleven because they don’t have as many players as we do.”
Lindsey made a snorting noise. “Yeah,” she said, “they don’t have every guy in the seventh grade on their team.”
Alex knew enough to let that go. She wasn’t here to debate Lindsey. She was trying to get them on the same side, and not just on the field.
“It was what Gabe said to me after Chase walked away. Something like, I’d like to see you on the field with that guy,” Alex said.
“Oh my god!” Lindsey said. “Now you want to play on another boys’ team! That’s what you came over here to tell me?”
Alex put her hands up in surrender.
“No!” she said. She couldn’t even stop a laugh from coming out o
f her. “That is absolutely not why I’m here.”
“So why are you?”
“What if there was a way for our team to play theirs for real? Get to do some real playing this season?” Alex said.
“They’d crush us,” Lindsey said, as if it were a no-brainer. “They went undefeated last fall, if you remember. What would even be the point of a game like that?”
“I’m not sure they would,” Alex said. “Crush us, I mean. We’ve got so much talent on our team—”
“You mean now that you’re back with us?” Lindsey said.
That one Alex couldn’t let go.
“Lindsey,” she said, “come on. This isn’t about the two of us. This is about all of us. And if we can’t find a way to work together, starting with you and me, then we’re not going to get to play this spring. At least not the way we want.”
Lindsey stood up then and faced the goal in her yard, arms crossed in front of her, as if deciding what she wanted to say next. In that moment, Alex started to think she had wasted her time. And wondered if anything would ever really change between them.
But here was the real wonder:
When Lindsey turned around, she was grinning ear to ear.
“Genius,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“My mom always tells me that the thing about a really good idea,” Lindsey said, “is that once one gets inside your head, it’s impossible to get it out.”
Alex waited.
“You’re saying it’s genius to get on the field with those guys?” Alex asked her. “I thought it was just something we could kick around.”
“Kick around, Alex?” Lindsey said. “Really?”
“Just slipped out,” she said. “Okay, so can you explain how, exactly, this is a genius plan? I mean, I thought it was decent at best—”
“We’re going to challenge them to a game,” Lindsey said. “And we’re going to get the school and the town behind it. And we’re going to sell tickets and get sponsors.”
Now Alex smiled, following Lindsey’s train of thought. “And raise enough money to have a season . . .”
