Saving the Team

by Alex Morgan

  “Bye, Dad.” I gave him a quick hug and ushered him away.

  Once I was inside, Emma appeared. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “Zoe and Jessi are here already. They’re out back. Take your shoes off and come on in.”

  Emma led me from the foyer into a gigantic kitchen, where a group of ladies was preparing food. “These are my mom’s friends and some of my aunts,” Emma said, introducing me around. Then we picked our way through another room filled with people, this time a living room outfitted with a huge flat screen television.

  “Move, move!” they screamed at us.

  Emma attempted to duck and ended up tripping over someone’s sneakers. She landed on her rear end on the floor, laughing as the room broke into applause. I helped her up, and she took a bow as everyone laughed.

  Emma gigged before explaining, “My brothers and our cousins all come here on the weekends. My family is obsessed with sports—especially soccer. We watch everything.” Just then someone on the TV scored, and the room exploded in cheers. “KO-RE-A, KO-RE-A!” they chanted as we were caught in a celebratory tornado. It was high fives and fist bumps all around.

  I totally understood now where Emma got all her enthusiasm from. It was obviously built into her DNA! We managed to make our way through the noisy television room. Emma slid open a glass door leading outside.

  “You brought your swimsuit, right?” Emma asked, taking us into her backyard. I couldn’t even answer her because the sight of her pool made me speechless. It was humongous, and edged in dark stones instead of the usual concrete curbing. Over at the far end of the pool, a water slide curled upward, all the way toward the roof of the house. Once, when our family went on vacation, the resort we stayed at had a pool like that. To live here would be like being on vacation all the time. But I couldn’t help wondering whether it was safe to have a giant slide in your backyard when your daughter was as clumsy as Emma.

  Zoe was next to the pool, lounging like a mini-model. Her strawberry-blond hair had been cut into a super-stylish pixie cut, the bangs long and swept across the front from left to right. She was flipping through a magazine and wearing sunglasses that were half the size of her face, even though she was in the shade.

  My power of speech returned to me. “When did you do that to your hair?” I exclaimed, making my way over to get a closer look. “It looks incredible!”

  “Thanks! My mom took me this morning,” she said. “I’m still getting used to it.” It must have taken Zoe a lot of inner confidence to pull off some of her looks, which was surprising, given how shy she was.

  “Where’s Jessi?” Emma asked.

  From above us we heard Jessi’s kamikaze yell as she barreled down the slide and flew off the edge, cannonballing into the water. She landed with a huge splash.

  She climbed out of the water and gave me a big, wet hug.

  “Hey!” I exclaimed, laughing as I looked down at my now wet clothes. “I don’t even have to bother changing into my suit now!”

  But I did change, in a fancy cabana next to the pool. After I had my suit on, I raced over to the pool and jumped in. Zoe had gotten off her lounge chair and was floating around on a raft, obviously trying to keep her new hairdo dry. Emma was floating on her back next to her.

  “You’ve got to try the slide!” Jessi said, and we both raced up the stairs. As we stood at the top, I felt my tummy start to churn. It was really high.

  “Come on!” Jessi yelled, and she slid down again, screaming the entire way. I heard a loud splash as she hit the water.

  Here goes nothing, I thought as I sat down at the top of the slide. I pushed off, and my body went whoosh! I careened into the water next to Jessi.

  “Isn’t that awesome?” she asked, her brown eyes shining.

  “Yes, but I think my stomach is still up there.” I pointed to the top of the slide. “Wow, Emma has a really cool house.”

  “It’s the best. We have lots of sleepovers here,” Jessi said. “I hope I’ll be able to come to more.”

  “Why?” I asked as I saw the smile fade from her face.

  “My parents almost didn’t let me come today,” Jessi explained. “They’re worried about my schoolwork. If I don’t get my grades up, this might be my last sleepover party for a while.”

  “If you ever need any help, just ask me,” I said. “My friend Kara and I used to study together all the time.”

  Jessi smiled. “Thanks.”

  Then Mrs. Kim called us inside for some food. There was a long table filled with ribs, potato salad, and cold noodles. There were also delicious-looking cupcakes.

  “Let’s take our plates to the game room. They’ll be screaming over that soccer game for hours,” Emma said, leading us to another part of the house. When she slid open the door, I could see that behind it was yet another gigantic television, plus a pool table, a foosball table, and a wall of DVDs and board games.

  We settled into the big, comfy couches, eating Mrs. Kim’s delicious Korean food.

  “Ugh, food coma,” Zoe said as she finished up her plate.

  “That always happens when we come here,” Jessi said happily. “Mrs. Kim always has the best snacks!”

  I made a mental note to myself to make sure my mom had something other than kale chips and green smoothies if my friends ever came over to my house for a sleepover.

  We all sat comfortably together for a while before the conversation turned to the team.

  “So, what do you guys think of Coach Flores?” I asked, curious. “I’ve never had a coach like her before!”

  “She’s so nice,” Emma said. “But sometimes I think she treats us like we’re a bunch of babies. Did you see my loud family? I can handle a little healthy competition.”

  “The team is so disorganized,” Jessi complained. “It’s like a free-for-all whenever we hit the field.”

  Zoe frowned. “I wish I was more of a help on the team.”

  Emma laughed. “You can’t help it!” she said to Zoe. Then Emma turned to us and said, “You should have seen her last year before our group presentation for Spanish class. She threw up in the girls’ bathroom.”

  “Hey!” Zoe said with a laugh. “That’s not funny! Okay, maybe it was a little.”

  “Did that really happen?” I asked, astonished.

  “Yeah,” she said. “People watching me does that to me sometimes, when there’s a lot of pressure. Stage fright, I guess.” She shrugged.

  I felt bad for Zoe. I couldn’t imagine getting that nervous about playing. The soccer field had always been where I felt the most confident. Plus, Zoe had real talent when she felt like no one was watching her. It seemed like a shame, really.

  “All you need to do is stop worrying,” Emma said encouragingly. “Then you’ll be great!”

  Zoe let out a big sigh. “Maybe.”

  “We’ve got lots of problems as a team, not just Zoe’s nerves,” I said sadly. “There’s no structure. It’s all chaos when we hit the field. I know I’m a co-captain, but really it’s up to Coach Flores to step up and whip us into shape.”

  Jessi got a mischievous grin on her face. “How about you and your fellow co-captain have a talk with her?”

  I shuddered at the thought of doing anything with Mirabelle.

  “I’m still surprised the eighth graders voted her as captain,” I said.

  “I think it’s a combination of respect and fear,” Zoe said. “She is an awesome player.”

  “But not all of them seemed happy about it,” Jessi reminded her.

  “You know what I was also wondering about?” I said. “We’ve got a game coming up with Pinewood. Didn’t you say that Mirabelle is friends with some of the girls on that team?”

  Jessi nodded. “Yep, they are her bffs!”

  “Do you think she would try to sabotage us, so Pinewood would win?” I wondered.

  Jessi, Emma, and Zoe all started laughing. “Um, the way we’re playing, no sabotage is needed,” Jessi said.

  I chuckled too. “I guess
you’re right.”

  “And Pinewood is the best team around,” Emma added. “They don’t need much help.”

  Jessi rolled her eyes. “Knowing Mirabelle, she wants to show off in front of her friends. She’d be, like, sooooo embarrassed if our team was a total disaster.”

  The team’s troubles seemed like too much. I was tired of thinking about it. I eyed the foosball table. “Want to play some foosball to work off some of that food?”

  “I’ll play with Devin. Jessi, you and Zoe can pair up,” Emma chimed in.

  It turned out Emma was a foosball queen. She defended our goal like it was nobody’s business.

  When we were winning 10–0, Jessi and Zoe finally forfeited.

  “We give up!” said Zoe. “Have mercy!”

  We were doubled over laughing when Mrs. Kim came downstairs. “You girls hungry for s’mores?” she asked.

  We all looked around at one another questioningly, smiles slowly dawning on our faces. Could we actually manage to stuff down more delicious food? Of course we could.

  “You bet!” Emma called out to her mom.

  Emma took us out by the pool again, where her mom had set up a small fire in their wrought-iron fire pit for us to make s’mores. The sky was clear and there were stars everywhere.

  “Do you know about the dance next Friday night? We should all meet here. We can get dressed together,” Emma suggested. “And one of my brothers can drive us.”

  “There’s a dance?” Zoe asked.

  “Yup,” said Jessi. “The theme is Neon Nights. Sounds pretty cool, right?” She got a dreamy look in her eyes. “I wonder if Cody will be there.”

  I was kind of wondering if Steven would be there too, but I didn’t say anything out loud. Instead I looked up at the sky. “Look, a shooting star!” I pointed.

  “Make a wish!” Emma cried out. We all squeezed our eyes shut, wishing with all our might.

  I wished that the Kicks would start playing better. I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one who made that wish. We all wanted the team to be good. With everything such a mess, wishing seemed like the only thing we could do now.

  When it was almost eleven and time to go to sleep, Mrs. Kim brought out some hot chocolate, four sleeping bags, and some pillows. We fell asleep with the whole galaxy above us, and Jessi’s soft snoring as a sound track.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Wishing didn’t work. Things weren’t getting any better for the Kangaroos. In the locker room before our home game against the Newton Tigers that very next Monday, Mirabelle gave her version of a pep talk.

  “You guys stink!” she yelled. “Get it together this game. You got to want to win! Got it?” she said threateningly. Some captain. What was she going to do, beat us all up if we lost? Jessi slammed her locker shut loudly and shot Mirabelle a glance that could have melted an ice cube. Mirabelle took the hint and shut up before stalking out of the locker room.

  The trouble we were having off the field spilled onto it. There was no sense of teamwork. At the game only the seventh graders participated in the sock swap, while Mirabelle glowered in anger. Coach Flores started all the eighth graders again, filling in with the seventh graders as needed. Once again the strategy didn’t work.

  Zoe still hadn’t gotten over her soccer stage fright, and Frida hardly paid any attention to the game at all. As a Tiger came in with a low, fast kick to the side of the goal, Frida stood to the side, her eyes closed while her lips were moving. What was she doing? Not watching the game, obviously. The ball flew in without our goalie even noticing.

  Mirabelle’s screams could be heard across the entire field. “Frida, pay attention!” she hollered, her face turning red with anger.

  Emma had a good run going with the ball, but once again tripped and went splat on the field, leaving the ball wide open for an interception. Grace and Anjali, two of the eighth graders, played a great game. Grace’s quiet intensity was an asset on the field. For the seventh grade, Jessi, Brianna, Sarah, and Anna were solid, good players, and I tried my best. But we just weren’t connecting. Once again we couldn’t overcome the chaos. The game was a total disaster. The Kentville Kangaroos were now 0–2 to start the season.

  “What were you doing out there?” Mirabelle asked Frida after the game, exasperated.

  “I was practicing my Academy Awards acceptance speech,” Frida said defiantly. She wasn’t afraid of Mirabelle. “It seemed like a better way to spend my time.”

  Mirabelle rolled her eyes. “Useless,” she muttered under her breath. There was nothing she could do. We were stuck with Frida as goalie. Nobody wanted the job, and since Frida didn’t even want to play, she didn’t care what position she was in.

  Mirabelle turned her intense gaze on me. “Devin, we captains need to talk.” She stalked off to the side of the field. Not knowing what else to do, I followed her.

  “We can’t afford to keep losing,” Mirabelle told me. “We’re not going to make the end-of-season tournament like this,” she continued. “I want us to put on a good showing, especially for the Pinewood game.”

  “I heard you had some friends on the Pinewood team,” I said innocently.

  Mirabelle stared at me. “Jessi tell you that?”

  I nodded. Oops. I hoped I hadn’t stirred something up.

  She glared at me. “Don’t listen to everything Jessi says. But it is true, I do have some friends at Pinewood, and I have to make a good impression at that game. Devin, you want to win too, right?” Mirabelle stared at me intensely.

  “Of course I want to win,” I replied. But you need strategy to win, I wanted to add. And as far as strategy went, we had none.

  “Good. It’s obvious Coach doesn’t care much about making the team better, so as captains it’s our responsibility.” Mirabelle had a look on her face that would stop a rampaging bull in its steps.

  “I know,” I said. Mirabelle definitely wasn’t my favorite person, but I had to agree with her. “I don’t get it.”

  “You know she used to play college soccer, right?” Mirabelle asked.

  “She did?” That totally surprised me. “No way! You’d never know. She doesn’t teach us much of anything.”

  Mirabelle shrugged. “I know. Anyway, maybe the better players, like you and me, should play more minutes.” It was flattering that Mirabelle thought I was on her level. Or close to it.

  “And I think Jessi and Brianna have been great too,” I offered.

  “Jessi? Oh, come on,” Mirabelle said dismissively. “She doesn’t try hard enough. Trust me, I know her. We used to be friends.”

  “She told me you guys grew up together,” I said cautiously.

  “Jessi used to be better than me at soccer. I mean, sports always came super-easy to her. But when I started getting better and joined the travel team, she got jealous.” Mirabelle shrugged.

  That didn’t sound like the story I’d heard, but I kept my mouth shut.

  “Anyway, we should talk to Coach about this playing-time stuff,” Mirabelle said. “You gotta back me up when I say the better players deserve to play more.”

  “Okay,” I said hesitantly. “Isn’t that unfair to everyone else on the team, though?” I was thinking about what Mirabelle’s solution would mean for the rest of the team—for players like Emma, in particular, who loved the game but weren’t necessarily stars in the making.

  “Look, you’re a captain,” Mirabelle said. “This is what captains do. We help the team make decisions,” Mirabelle continued, her voice rising. “It’s for the good of the team.”

  “All right, all right, I understand,” I said, backing down. It would be nice to try to win a game or two. But was it worth the price of fairness?

  After the next practice Mirabelle and I went to go talk to Coach Flores. Jessi raised her eyebrows as she saw us walking off together. I shrugged helplessly. Mirabelle kept lecturing me all the way to Coach’s office. “Remember, we have a goal here. We’ll make it happen if we stick together. Got it?”

  �
�Sure,” I said, rushing to keep up with her as she speed-walked down the hall. Something about this didn’t feel right.

  When we arrived at Coach Flores’s door, Mirabelle breezed right in without knocking.

  “Hello there, girls,” Coach Flores said, her usual grin plastered on her face. “Take a seat.”

  “That’s okay,” Mirabelle said. “This will just take a minute. Devin and I, as co-captains, thought that it would be better for our next game if we got to choose the positions and substitutions,” she said, her voice sugary sweet. “Just for one game, to try it out. I think it would really help us learn responsibility and teamwork.” I did a mental eye roll. Puh-leaze! Coach might be too nice, but even she wouldn’t buy Mirabelle’s sugar-and-spice act. Or would she?

  Coach hesitated. For a second I was sure she wouldn’t go for it. I mean, she was all about equal playing time for everyone. “You guys decided this?” she asked, looking at both of us. We nodded together.

  “Well, if you girls want to try doing the lineups, I’m not against it. Just make sure everyone agrees to it and people are enjoying themselves. And above all, be fair.” She emphasized the last word.

  “Taken care of! We already asked them. They’re all very excited about it,” Mirabelle said with a winning smile. It was a flat-out lie. My jaw dropped open, but I couldn’t get the words to come out of my mouth to contradict Mirabelle.

  Coach raised her eyebrows, looking surprised. “If everyone agreed,” she said, “then I’m all for it. It’s nice to see you two captains being proactive.”

  I felt a little sick inside. This wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what to do. To tell the truth, I was afraid to stand up to Mirabelle.

  When we left Coach Flores’s office, Mirabelle was crowing. “See how easy that was? Now we have a shot at winning. I’ll tell you who I think we should play. Then we’ll tell them before our next game.”

  So much for being co-captains.

  I was starting to get the idea that Mirabelle was very good at getting what she wanted—no matter what the cost. I felt guilty that I hadn’t stood up to her. I should have said something to Coach Flores! Would all my new friends be mad at me?