How to Be a Perfect Girl

by Mary Williams

  “Oh, doesn’t it? That’s the golden rule, right? ‘Don’t do unto others what you wouldn’t like done unto you’?”

  Val wasn’t sure if he was being serious; no point in arguing it even if he is. She just shrugged, “Well, I don’t wanna be late to soccer tryouts. See you around!” She charted a course toward the locker room.

  “Have a nice Columbus Day!” Colin yelled after her.

  “It’s Columbus Day?”

  Colin laughed, “Nope, but I like to use unusual farewells. Helps people remember me.”

  The joke elicited a small laugh from Val as well, “Uh, okay then. Bye!”

  Avery wasn’t in the locker room by the time Val got there, but a few other girls were; Val didn’t know any of them. Some pulled on jerseys from past years, marking them as team members; the rest, like Val, only had their regular gym clothes to change into. Once she was finished changing, Val made her way towards the soccer fields, which were near the football field but a bit farther from the school.

  Once it was clear there were no more laggards still changing, Avery counted everyone there—excluding the girls wearing jerseys. “It looks like we have about ten girls trying out this year. And, as you can see, very few openings.” It was true; as Val looked at the returning players, it was obvious that they could field a full team without taking on any of the girls trying out.

  “Coach isn’t here today, so we’re going to be running practice,” Avery gestured to herself and a couple other older-looking girls. “Today will look like this: drills the first half, and then we’ll split up and play a short scrimmage. Now, just to get an idea of who’s trying out for what: how many of you want to be goalies?” One girl raised her hand. “Middies?” Half of the group raised their hands. “Strikers?” Val and a pair of other freshmen raised their hands. “And defenders?” the final girl nodded. “Well, you two can go home,” Avery said to the girl who wanted to be a goalie and the one who was trying out for defender.

  “B-but, why?” the goalie girl asked.

  Avery laughed, “Cause our goalie’s the best in state—at our level, anyway. And I’m perfectly happy with my defensive core, so there’s no need to add anyone to it.”

  “But don’t you at least want to see if we’re better than whoever you’ve already got?” the girl who was trying out to be a defender asked; she looked more like a sophomore or junior than a freshman.

  “Not really. I’m sure you won’t be, so why waste any of our time?”

  “That’s not fair,” a lot of the girls complained. Val kept quiet, not wanting to call Avery’s attention to her—for some reason it seemed like she’d already done enough to raise the older girl’s ire.

  Avery relented, “Alright, you can try out. But don’t forget, I warned you. Anyway, let’s warm up with some ladders.”

  Ladders—running from one end of the field to the other by running first to the penalty line and back, then to the midfield line and back, and so on—were not Val’s favorite exercise. Just the same, she went as fast as she could, and finished with the front pack of girls. A couple of the girls trying out beat her, along with nearly half of the returning players from last year. It became clear as Val turned to watch the other girls finish that at least a few were woefully out of shape.

  Next, Avery divided them into pairs for passing drills; she walked amongst them as they worked to complete a circuit of different passing types. Val cheered after successfully completing a back pass; her heel connected with the ball at the perfect angle and it trundled right into her partner’s waiting foot.

  “What are you doing?” Avery asked; she was almost a dozen feet away from Val, and the players between them stopped to listen in on the conversation.

  “Celebrating,” Val admitted, “I’ve always had trouble with that pass.”

  “Interesting,” Avery replied, “And you think you did it right that time?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I got it to Scarlett, didn’t I?”

  “Doesn’t mean it was a good pass,” Avery reprimanded. “You can continue; I just found it interesting that you would celebrate such a simple pass.”

  Val blushed. She turned back to Scarlett, her partner. They worked a bit longer on the back pass than everyone else, until Val reached the point of making more than she missed. She didn’t celebrate any successful passes after Avery called her out, and vowed to contain her enthusiasm for the rest of practice.

  For the scrimmage, Avery decided to pit the new players against the veterans; because that would have resulted in a few open spots, however, she was forced to shift some of the girls around. As a result, Val ended up on the veteran’s team.

  The game was lopsided from the beginning; Val thought she did well, despite the fact that Avery practically refused to pass her the ball. At one point the Senior girl crossed the ball over the entire field, right past Val, who was at least twice as close and undefended. That’s it, Val thought, I have to figure out why she hates me so much.

  After the scrimmage the team broke up as everyone headed for the locker rooms. “Hey Avery! Can we talk for a minute?” Val asked, figuring it was a request the team captain would be honor bound to agree to.

  Avery sighed violently, “I suppose.” She stopped, and the other girls passed them by.

  Now that she was speaking with Avery, Val wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to. “Why do you hate me?” she blurted out.

  “Hate you?” Avery smiled, “My dear, you’re not important enough for that.” She snorted, “No, you annoy me. That’s all.”

  “Oh. Well then why do I annoy you?”

  Avery shrugged, “Do I have to have a reason?”

  “I guess not. But I mean like you don’t get annoyed by any of the other freshman, so why—“ Val stared at some nearby stairs, “—I thought we could be friends.”

  A cynical laugh escaped Avery’s lips, “Friends? Me, friends with a freshman?” She laughed again, “That’s a good one.”

  “But that still—you haven’t said—what’s so annoying about me?”

  “Your voice, your personality, the fact you act like you’re queen of the school.”

  “What’s wrong with my voice?”

  “’What’s wrong with my voice?’” Avery imitated the question in a ridiculously high pitch, “You sound like Minnie Mouse. It’s seriously soooo annoying.”

  Val swallowed, “And my personality?”

  “You’re just too—energetic. Like you’re constantly on a caffeine high, or like you need to be the center of attention. And that just feeds into your whole queen-of-the-school act.”

  “I don’t have a queen-of-the-school act,” Val defended.

  “Puh-lease,” Avery drew the word out into two syllables, “If you want evidence, just look at that speech you gave in Student Gov yesterday.”

  Val flushed, “That wasn’t even my idea though. And besides, you act more like queen of the school than I do!”

  That drew another laugh from Avery, “That’s because I am, dear. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m student body president, captain of the soccer team—oh, and a national honor society scholar. And my boyfriend is the quarterback. So yeah, I think I have a bit more claim to the title than you.”

  “Porter?” Val clarified.

  A flick of anger crossed over Avery’s face, “Yes. Why, do you know him?”

  Val smiled sweetly; the same feeling that had filled her when she was arguing with Jenny compelled her to say, “Yeah, he complains about you all the time.”

  From the look on Avery’s face, Val knew the verbal barb had wounded her, “No he doesn’t.”

  Val realized it would cause Avery more distress if she simply walked away, without clarifying or arguing what Porter may or may not have said. So, satisfied that she had won the conversation, she left to head to the locker room; Avery took a few seconds before following her in.

  Chapter 13

  “But Coach, we can’t be on different teams!” Porter complained.

  “
Why not?” Mr. Sharp bemusedly looked from the blond boy to Val and back again.

  “Cause any team I’m on can take the hit; if you put her on another team, it just wouldn’t be fair to them,” Porter suggested.

  “Hey!” despite knowing she wasn’t the best football player in existence, Val still found Porter’s argument a little insulting.

  “You guys are on separate teams,” Mr. Sharp stated matter-of-factly, “And it’s staying that way. I’ve seen the way she distracts you, Young.”

  “But Coach, it’s only a class—it’s not like I’m asking if she can play on our actual football team.”

  “You can’t have it both ways, big guy,” the teacher replied, “If putting her on a team would be a bad choice because it would make the team less competitive, then you can’t go on to say that the competitive aspect of this class doesn’t matter.”

  Porter sighed, “How about if I asked you to do it as a personal favor?” Val wondered why he was trying so hard to ensure they’d be on the same team, but kept quiet.

  Mr. Sharp nodded, “Is it important to your mental well-being?”

  “Yes Coach.”

  “Then it’s done. Weathersby,” Mr. Sharp shouted at a gangly sophomore, “You’re on team five now! Blondie,” he turned to Val, “You’re fine with being on Young’s team, right?”

  “Yeah,” Val smiled, “I mean, I’ll end up having to carry whatever team I’m on, so—“

  The bald man laughed, “I can see why you like her Young. Good looks and a sense of humor, to boot.”

  Porter blushed, “I don’t like her—”

  “Then why’d you push so hard to have her on your team? Nevermind, you should get to know your other teammates.” He waved Val and Porter off; they joined the three boys who would make up their team for the rest of the class.

  “Hey, Young!” A stocky boy greeted Porter as they approached.

  “Josh!” Porter grinned, “Well that settles it. The rest of you can just kick back while we win all the games this class.”

  The stocky boy laughed, “Oh yeah. I think we’re the only serious football players signed up this semester.”

  “I dunno,” Porter said, “Do you count Weathersby?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Okay, then we’re the only serious ones in the class.”

  Josh’s eyes shifted to Val; “Oh, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” Porter motioned at Val, “Josh, this is Val. She’s here to fulfil our female quota.”

  “Nice. Very nice.” Josh looked Val up and down, making her feel very uncomfortable, “You’re the one that was having so much trouble figuring out how to throw a pass, right?”

  “Yup,” Val admitted; she could feel her face flush.

  Josh smiled, “Well I guess we couldn’t have a perfect team. That would have made things too easy.”

  “She’s gonna get better,” Porter promised on her behalf, “Plus, I convinced Coach to take Weathersby off our team so we could have her.”

  “She is an improvement over the runt,” Josh admitted, “If only because she smells nicer.” He gestured to a boy who looked to be about his age, “Young, this is my friend Alexzander. Alex, tell him how you spell your first name.”

  Josh’s friend—a sandy-blonde, pimple-faced boy—spoke up, “A-l-e-x-z-a-n-d-e-r. It’s not that strange, really.”

  Josh laughed and clapped his friend on the back, “What I can never get over, is why is the z in there? It’s just like his parents were all ‘let’s add a random letter just for fun.’” He looked around, obviously expecting to get a laugh.

  None came; “So, you wanna throw the ball around a little?” Porter asked.

  “Hang on,” Val interjected. She looked at the third, black-haired boy, “I don’t think we’ve been introduced to you yet. I’m Valentina, but everyone just calls me Val.”

  The boy blinked a couple of times before replying, “Mason.” He offered his hand.

  Val had to take a step to be close enough to shake it, “Nice to meet you Mason. Are you a freshman too?”

  “Yeah.” It was apparent the whole exchange was making him uncomfortable.

  A poke to her back made Val jump. She turned to see Porter pointing to the football bag, “I’m gonna go grab one so we can toss it around. Alright?”

  “Alright.”

  “Wanna come with?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” It was an odd request; the trip wasn’t that far.

  “So, what do you think of Josh?” Porter asked while they walked.

  Val shrugged, “I dunno, he’s ok. Not the best sense of humor.”

  “Yeah,” Porter laughed, “That’s Josh. He’s a good guy though, so you shouldn’t hold it against him. Here, catch.” He tossed a ball to Vall; she tried her best to catch it, but only succeeded in bobbling it twice before it landed on the ground.

  “By all that’s holy!” Mr. Sharp yelled, “Blondie, the object is to catch the ball, not juggle it!”

  Val looked at Porter, giving him her best I’m-gonna-fail-this-class expression. “Don’t worry about it,” he said as they returned to their team, “You just haven’t had a lot of practice.”

  “Or any practice at all.”

  They spent the rest of the hour passing the ball around; Porter gave Val several opportunities to embarrass herself even more. After she’d dropped her sixth catch in a row, the bell mercifully rang.

  “It’s a good thing you’re a soccer player,” Porter grinned as they all headed for the locker rooms.

  “Well I don’t know if I am yet. Tryouts aren’t through—and I’m not doing spectacularly,” Val confided.

  “You looked like you were doing pretty well.” When Val gave Porter a confused look, he explained, “Soccer’s the same time as our weight training for football. I saw you on the field yesterday as I was heading to my car.”

  “Oh, cool.” Val wasn’t quite sure what to do with the information; did he leave before I spoke with Avery?

  “Yeah. So anyways, I was thinking tomorrow we could go out to lunch, if you want to. With Derrick, obviously.”

  Val frowned, “But it’s ‘Philly cheesesteak Friday’, isn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t have to be. We can go wherever you want.”

  “Okay, then it’s a date!” Val smiled.

  “Not a date,” Porter quickly corrected; he held the door open for Val as they both reentered the school.

  “I know. It’s just an expression.” Val turned off and into the girls’ locker room.

  Dylan was almost unbearable in Homeroom; the Palm Lake government positions were announced over the loudspeaker, and he perked up when he heard Val’s name.

  “I guess it helps when you bully your only real competition into punching you so she gets suspended,” Dylan remarked loudly. From their position in the middle of class, Val, Carrie, and Aaliyah looked at him. Val decided to ignore the comment and continue studying for her Drawing class, which was set to have a quiz tomorrow.

  “Come on, Miss Class President, I’m talking to you.”

  Val didn’t say anything, Complementary colors are colors on opposite ends of the color wheel, she read.

  “Just ignore him,” Aaliyah cautioned, “He’ll get bored soon enough.” Her phone buzzed, “Oh yeah, that reminds me—“

  “Yeah?” Val prompted.

  “Do you want to go to a little soiree I’m hosting on Saturday? It’s not gonna be like a super formal deal, but if you wanted to come you could.”

  Val nodded, “Sure! Sounds fun.” She caught Aaliyah’s eyes and motioned to Carrie, who was still focusing on her work.

  Aaliyah caught the hint, “And you can come too, Carrie.”

  The brunette’s face twisted in surprise, “You want me to come?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Aaliyah smiled, “The more the merrier.”

  On the other side of the room, Dylan was still trying to make fun of Val, “I can just see her being the first female president. Or better yet, the next Monica Lewin
sky.”

  “Dylan!” Miss Hughes scolded, “That’s quite enough!”

  “Thank you,” Val said, loud enough Miss Hughes could hear. Dylan stopped making fun of her for the rest of Homeroom, although on their way out he whispered, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” in her ear.

  After a pair of long classes, Val was ready for lunch; even though the Trio was annoying, she was starting to get used to their conversation style. And without Jenny, they acted a lot nicer to her.

  Val started to take her usual seat next to Sophia, but stopped and frowned at the backpack occupying the space. She remembered seeing it somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it.

  “Jenny’s back,” Sophia said when she saw Val. That explains it; the backpack was Jenny’s. Val nodded and moved the backpack from its perch before taking her seat. “So, anything interesting happen today?” she asked the Trio.

  “A junior asked me out,” Ella bragged, “His name’s Alex. He’s in Student Gov with us.”

  “Oh, cool,” Val replied, vaguely curious if it was the same pimply Alex from her Flag Football class.

  A girl cleared her throat behind Val. Val turned around; it was Jenny. “Hello,” the pig-nosed girl said, “I was saving that seat.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Val tried to look contrite, “Jenny, I wanted to talk to you about—“

  “You’re not even welcome here,” Jenny interrupted, “Go eat lunch with someone else.”

  “No,” Val said simply, “I’m staying here.”

  “Fine. We’ll just go sit somewhere else. Come on, girls.” She left, only to stop dead in her tracks when none of the Trio followed her.

  “This is where we always sit,” Sophia’s eyes darted from Val to Jenny.

  “Yes,” Val agreed, “This is where we—“ she emphasized the we so it was clear the pronoun did not involve Jenny, “—always sit. Why don’t you go sit at one of the more open tables, like—oh, perfect! There’s one right next to Noah.” Why am I doing this? She wondered vaguely, it’s so mean!

  Jenny gulped, her gaze moving from each of her friends, and finally back to Val. Without another word, she grabbed her backpack and fled the cafeteria.