PrettyTOUGH

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PrettyTOUGH Page 17

by Nicole Leigh Shepherd


  Charlie turned the other way. Noah stopped short.

  “Whatever,” he said, giving up. “If Martie’s story about her sister didn’t get through to you, my little pep talk probably isn’t.”

  Charlie looked up, confused. “Martie and her sister? What’re you talking about?”

  Noah gave her a funny look. “The accident? And the settlement money?” Suddenly, he stopped. “Didn’t she tell you… ?”

  Charlie had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

  “Well, if she didn’t tell you, I’m not sure I should.” He studied her for a moment. “Oh, what the hell. It’s important, and you need to hear it.” He took a deep breath. “Martie had a sister who also went to Beachwood. They played here together. Martie went on to play, you know, for the National team. Her sister got a scholarship to UCLA and played there. Martie was out of the country, at a World Cup competition, when she got a call. Her sister had been in an accident—nothing to do with soccer—it was a drunk driver.”

  Charlie gasped. “Her sister…”

  She couldn’t even say it. It was too horrible.

  “She died,” Noah confirmed. “That’s where the money came from. For the endowment. It was the settlement money from the lawsuit.”

  “Wait a minute,” Charlie said slowly. “Martie’s the anonymous benefactor? She’s the one who donated all the money to rebuild the program?”

  Noah nodded. “Beachwood soccer was something that really mattered to Martie and Corrine. That was her sister’s name, Corrine. She said it was what brought them together. Even if Martie was the better player, she always looked to Corrine on the field. She was still her big sister, Martie said.”

  Charlie sat stunned. She’d had no idea. She doubted any of the girls did.

  For one brief, awful moment, Charlie thought about what she would do if anything happened to Krista.

  “Does Krista know?” she asked Noah. “About Corrine?”

  Noah shook his head. “Just you. Martie didn’t want anyone to know, but… she told me she was going to tell you, so… I just thought…”

  Charlie knew why Martie hadn’t told her story. Because of what Charlie had said about not knowing what it was like to have a sister. She felt sick to her stomach, like the biggest jerk in the world.

  She owed Martie a huge apology. “I’m sorry” wasn’t even enough. She had to find another way. She realized she needed to start something she’d promised to finish.

  “Could you excuse me?” Charlie asked Noah. “I have a lot of reading to do before our game tomorrow.”

  It was almost four in the morning when Krista felt a sensation that she hadn’t in years. Her eyelids were being lifted up one by one.

  “Are you awake?” a voice asked.

  Krista opened her eyes. Charlie was sitting on her bed.

  When they were little, every Saturday morning and every day in the summers, Charlie would rise early—way before Krista—and the rule from her parents was that Charlie couldn’t wake her.

  So instead, she would sneak into Krista’s room and peel back her eyelids one at a time, asking that same question, “Are you awake?”

  It always worked—even now.

  Krista sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re sleeping, but there’s something—there’s something I need to say,” Charlie whispered.

  “Can’t it wait until morning?” Krista asked.

  “No,” Charlie insisted. “It can’t.”

  Krista frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, what is it?”

  Charlie swallowed hard, then grew silent. She opened her mouth, closed it. Opened her mouth, closed it again.

  Seconds ticked by. Krista sighed. Maybe her sister was psycho.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said. “I’m going back to sleep.” She grabbed her covers and began to roll over.

  “No, wait!” Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Krista turned back and stared at her.

  “I wanted to say something… about a book I just read,” Charlie started over. “The book is called To Kill a Mockingbird. Martie lent me her copy earlier. There’s a line in it that she underlined—she even put a star next to it in the margin. The line says: Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I’d have the facts.”

  Krista scowled, genuinely puzzled. “Charlie, what is this? It’s four in the morning!”

  But Charlie plowed on. “I thought about what that meant and why that one line was so important. Then I thought about deleting the extra words between us—all the things we’ve said to each other that were hurtful or spiteful—things that didn’t amount to anything—until I got to the facts. And when I thought of all the words I could and threw them all out, there was just one I couldn’t let go of. Sister. Because that’s what we are, and that’s the fact.”

  “So?” Krista asked.

  “So, maybe you’ve done things that hurt me or disappointed me. I know I’ve done things that hurt you. But I wanted to tell you—” Charlie swallowed. Her eyes grew shiny with tears. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry—for all of it.”

  Krista stared at her little sister. A lump formed in her throat. “Charlie, why are you saying all of this?”

  “Because I realized something tonight: you’re the reason I pushed myself so hard. You’re the reason I discovered how much I love this team. I know we’ve fought, but without you, I wouldn’t be here. Honestly, I don’t know where I’d be.”

  “Charlie—” Krista started.

  “I thought I wanted to be better than you,” Charlie admitted, “but really, I just wanted to be more like you, So I’m hoping—I’m hoping that we can start over. I want us to be what we really are—deep down, beyond anything else. I want us to be sisters.”

  Krista gazed at her sister in amazement. “Oh, Charlie. You don’t want to be like me. I think—I think I should be more like you. You’re not afraid to speak your mind. You stand up to people. You know who you are, and you don’t pretend to be something you’re not. You’re tough, you’re fearless. And you’re strong—you’re so strong, Charlie.”

  She paused for a moment, the words stuck in her throat. “If it had been me with Regan that day in the cafeteria—if it had been me instead of you—you wouldn’t have cared what anyone else thought. You would have defended me.”

  Charlie looked down at her hands.

  “I let you down,” Krista admitted, “but I promise you, it will never, ever happen again.” She felt a single tear spill down her face.

  Charlie looked up. Krista saw that she was crying too. She grabbed her sister in her arms and squeezed. It was the first hug they’d shared in… Krista couldn’t even remember how long.

  “Kris?” Charlie whispered after a while.

  “Yeah,” she answered.

  “Hug… too tight,” Charlie gasped. “Can’t breathe.”

  Krista laughed and let her sister go.

  Charlie smiled back at her. “So,” she said, “which one of us is going to tell Martie we’re playing today?”

  Krista shrugged. “I will. It seems like a big sister thing to do.”

  As Krista got up and slipped on her sweatshirt and grabbed her key off the dresser, Charlie made her way over to the bed to get some sleep. She climbed in next to Carla, who tapped her on the arm.

  Charlie jumped, startled that Carla was awake.

  “I’m proud of you, Charlie,” she said.

  Charlie snuggled down under the covers and smiled.

  When Charlie woke up just a few hours later, she felt amazingly well rested, considering she’d had only a few hours sleep. Today was a clean slate. With the game yesterday being rained out, it was as if their tournament was actually beginning today. It was a rare opportunity for a second chance. Charlie was determined to make the most of it.

  Sitting at breakfast between Carla and Jamie, she was nervous. There was a free continental breakfast at the Marriott, and Charlie had taken
advantage, eating both a bowl of Raisin Bran and a bagel. She couldn’t help but laugh when she saw Martie grab two bananas.

  Not all the girls were as happy to have Charlie and Krista back. Plenty of them stared and whispered, understandably hesitant. No one wanted a repeat of yesterday on the field. Charlie and Krista knew they had to make sure everyone knew that there wouldn’t be.

  The girls boarded the bus by nine o’clock and were at the field exactly twelve minutes later. The locker room buzzed with excitement as the team raced around, changing into their uniforms.

  When the entire team gathered, Martie gave a pep talk.

  “Okay, you guys,” she said excitedly. “We get another chance today. Another chance to be warriors on that field. Whatever you do, don’t let down and don’t give up. Just relax and play like you’ve practiced. Don’t let yourself get frazzled. Play with your head and your heart out there. Okay—hands in—”

  “Wait,” Charlie interrupted. “I—I mean, um—we have something we want to say.”

  Martie looked taken aback. Noah gave Krista an uneasy look.

  Krista smiled reassuringly and stepped forward. “B-dub, we’ve been through a lot this season,” she said. “So much that we’re more than teammates. We’re sisters. All of us.”

  “We overcame the odds and have already put Beachwood soccer back on top,” Charlie continued. “That’s because of one person—one person who believed we could do it: Martie Reese. So Krista and I want to thank her for reminding us… how important our sisters are.” She draped an arm around Krista’s shoulders and squeezed.

  Martie put a hand to her lips. Her eyebrows knit together, like she was trying to hold something in.

  “That’s how we have to go out there and play today.” Krista picked up the thread. “As one unit—as sisters. If we listen to each other and treat each other with respect, there’s no way we can lose.”

  Charlie saw a tear roll down Martie’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

  Martie walked across the locker room to Charlie and Krista. She put an arm around each of them.

  “Girls, I want you to know I am proud of each and every one of you,” she said. “Now let’s go. Everyone. Hands in.”

  All the girls piled their hands in the center. This time when Krista put her hand in, Charlie made sure to put her hand right on top. Noah put his in last to finish out the pile. And together everyone chanted, “Let’s go, B-dub. LET’S GO, BANANAS.”

  “Senior Krista Brown,” the announcer boomed. Charlie clapped from the sidelines. The B-dub team had made it all the way to Saturday night, to the semifinal game.

  The cheers for Krista were the loudest that Charlie had ever heard in her life. Fans tended to cheer most for the seniors because now, in play-offs, each game could be their last.

  The announcer continued introducing the team. “Julie Theiser.” “Zaida Wincelowicz.” Charlie jumped in place to stay warm.

  “Sophomore Charlie Brown.” She sprinted onto the field. The cheers were deafening as she low-fived the other players. But when she jogged even with Krista, Krista gave her a hug.

  “Good game,” Krista said.

  Charlie smiled. “You too.” She took her place back at the end of the line beside Zaida.

  “Carla Hernandez.” Carla ran out to take her place. Once in line, Charlie saw Carla’s mom and brother going crazy in the stands. Nate had offered to give them a ride out so they could see Carla play for the first time. Charlie knew Carla had been extremely nervous about what her mother would think. Charlie smiled. Mrs. Hernandez looked extremely proud.

  On Mrs. Hernandez’s left sat Bryan. He waved to her. She gave a little half wave back, trying hard to conceal her smile. In front of him were Pickle and Benji, who had driven up as well. The two of them were going crazy!

  “Go, Charlie! Go, Carla!” they screamed in unison.

  As the national anthem played and the lights shone down, Charlie took a deep breath and whispered, “Please let tonight be my lucky night.”

  Fifteen minutes later, as her body slid along the grass and dirt, Charlie knew luck was going to have nothing to do with this victory. Her foot tipped the ball and knocked it out-of-bounds, ending Andover’s run for the goal.

  “Nice try, Charlie.” Martie clapped from the sidelines.

  Andover headed the ball in and Darcy jumped up to grab it. No goal.

  “Charlie!” Darcy yelled.

  Charlie responded quickly. She went for the ball and was the first one to it. She cut back, avoiding an Andover defender, successfully dribbling around her.

  “You got my back,” Krista yelled as Charlie raced toward their eighteen, the other players descending on her.

  “She’s on, she’s on!” Krista warned, letting Charlie know the player marking her was right on her heels.

  Charlie shot the ball back to Krista, who knocked it to Jen. Jen quickly trapped it and gestured to Ruthie and Charlie to get open. Charlie cut in front of the Andover stopper and Jen passed the ball. Charlie jumped and kicked while still in the air, her shoe making contact with the ball. It was a beautiful shot, perfectly placed… the kind of goal that would be replayed again and again… except the Andover goalie caught it.

  Charlie ran back toward Krista, who slapped her on the back.

  “Good try,” she said. Charlie nodded. She couldn’t believe how great it felt to have her sister behind her, encouraging her. All this time she thought she had to succeed despite her sister; she never thought she could succeed because of her. Working with Krista was so much easier than working against her. And working with her because she wanted to was a totally different feeling.

  When Beachwood got a corner kick a few minutes later, Jamie was called up to take it. Charlie knew Krista got nervous for corner kicks because everyone was crowded in. It felt like twenty players, ten from each team, going for the ball once it was put into play.

  “Stay strong, Krista,” Charlie shouted encouragingly, getting into her position in the middle of the pack. “We’ve got this.” Her spot was right in the thick of things with Buffi, Ruthie, Heather, and Jen, who were heavily marked by the Andover defenders. They were all so close, so on top of each other, Charlie could feel the heat coming off the other players’ bodies.

  When Jamie booted the ball, Charlie watched in awe as Krista charged the goal line. Jumping up without hesitation, she beat the Andover defender to the ball and headed it right past their goalie and into the upper-right corner of the net. It was one of the hardest, coolest goals possible. The crowd erupted, and Krista was tackled by her teammates. It was the first goal of the night.

  “You did it!” Charlie shrieked. “You did it! You took the header!”

  Krista pumped her fists victoriously as her parents cheered wildly from the crowd. Even she seemed surprised.

  Beachwood’s celebratory mood, however, was cut short. Just a few minutes into the second half, Andover was inside Beachwood’s eighteen. They managed to rebound the ball off the goalpost—right into the box. Darcy was devastated that she’d let a ball in. Carla took the blame, saying it was her fault. She’d lost track of her mark. Jamie gathered the defenders into a circle as Krista took the offense. Each had her own job to do on the field.

  “You guys,” Krista said. “We can do this. Let’s go! Make their keeper work. We gotta take more shots.”

  Jamie brought the defenders over. “You guys, they can predict a lot of our plays. Let’s switch it up more, okay? Don’t be afraid to switch fields, switch positions…. Just make sure everyone is marked.”

  Krista nodded. Charlie looked between both of them. Krista and Jamie were great at strategy. They were going to get the ball up the field. Then it would be up to Charlie to put it into the net.

  The next time the ball got down near Beachwood’s net, Carla fought to get it out of there. She beat Andover to the ball and knocked it back to Erica.“Switch fields,” Jamie yelled, and Erica booted a long ball clear across to Julie on the other side of the field, wh
o quickly knocked it up to Karen.

  Charlie felt her whole body tingling as she wiped the sweat out of her eyes. This was it. She knew what play was coming.

  Karen passed to Krista, who dove in front of an Andover midfielder to get it. The midfielder tripped over Krista, ending up next to her on the ground. Carla grabbed the ball as Krista popped up.

  “Move back,” Carla yelled to Krista.

  Krista moved back on defense, covering Carla’s position and mark. As Carla ran upfield, Charlie moved to get open, elbowing an Andover defender out of her way.

  As another defender bore down on Carla, she passed so she wouldn’t lose the ball. Charlie sprinted to get the ball in time, colliding with an Andover defender but still managing to tap the ball to Ruthie. Ruthie knocked it to Carla, who had charged into Andover’s eighteen. The crowd went wild, anticipating what was next.

  Andover’s stopper got to the ball first. She tried booting it out, but Charlie jumped to block her kick. WHACK! The ball pelted Charlie on the leg—so hard she was sure she would have a honeycomb imprint there permanently. It rebounded off her and Carla ran for it. She slid and knocked it right past the Andover goalie into the net.

  The crowd erupted. Beachwood had scored!

  Charlie jumped on Carla as their teammates crowded around them. Beachwood was now up two–one. Winning the game seemed not only possible, but likely…

  … until a hand ball was called on Julie inside the eighteen.

  “I didn’t touch it!” Julie yelled to the ref. “I swear.”

  Martie protested the call. They were overruled.

  “Andover,” the ref indicated. “Shot on goal.” The Beachwood section booed loudly.

  “C’mon, guys,” Krista encouraged. “Defense. No shoots, no scores.”

  The girls formed a human wall between Andover’s kicker and Darcy. Charlie and Krista moved into the center.

 

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