Text copyright © 2013 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.
Darby Creek
A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.
241 First Avenue North
Minneapolis, MN 55401 U.S.A.
Website address: www.lernerbooks.com
The images in this book are used with the permission of:
Front cover: © Chris Crisman/CORBIS. iStockphoto.com/
Ermin Gutenberger, (stadium lights).
Main body text set in Janson Text 12/17.5.
Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publications Data
Higgins, M. G.
Blow out / by M.G. Higgins.
p. cm. — (Counterattack)
ISBN: 978–1–4677–0302–4 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper)
[1. Soccer—Fiction. 2. Knee—Wounds and injuries—Fiction. 3. Sports injuries—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.H5349554BI 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2012025221
Manufactured in the United States of America
1 – BP – 12/31/12
eISBN: 978-1-4677-0957-6 (pdf)
eISBN: 978-1-4677-3119-5 (ePub)
eISBN: 978-1-4677-3118-8 (mobi)
. . .
FOR MOM AND DAD.
W
ith a minute to go in the regional final, Lacy Sheridan was running full out. Ahead, to Lacy’s right, Nita Ortiz dribbled past an opposing defender. Another defender was closing in. Lacy was in the open. If she could just get closer to the net, she’d be in position to score. That would put the Copperheads ahead 2–1. Lacy’s lungs and thighs burned, but she didn’t care. She felt alive, completely charged.
“Nita!” she shouted, getting her teammate’s attention.
Nita gave Lacy a quick glance and then a knowing grin. She faked a shot, throwing the second defender off-balance. At the last moment, she turned her foot, making an instep pass. It was a great play—except Lacy wasn’t in position yet. With the ball scooting past her toward the sideline, Lacy sprinted after it. She got there just in time, twisting on her right leg as she kicked the ball inbounds.
She heard her knee pop. Then she felt a hot, agonizing pain shoot through skin and muscle and bone, and crumpled to the grass.
. . .
“Lacy!”
Lacy woke up with a start, her scream still ringing in her ears.
Carrie stood next to her bed. “Hey.”
Lacy propped herself upright with an elbow. “I had a nightmare.”
“Yeah, I heard you all the way in my room. The same one?”
Lacy nodded.
“I can’t believe you’re still having that dream.” Understanding crossed Carrie’s face. “Spring semester starts tomorrow, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Lacy fell back onto her pillow. It would be the first time since her accident that she hadn’t worn the brace to school, and soccer practice would be starting in a few weeks. She took a deep breath.
“Want to talk about it?” Carrie asked.
Lacy glanced at the worried crease between her big sister’s eyes. She did want to talk about it—about the weeks of bed rest, the months of physical therapy, the wondering about whether she would play soccer again. But she wasn’t sure how she felt. Terrified? Excited? Anyway, Carrie had enough on her plate with returning to Connecticut the following week for her second term of college.
“Thanks for waking me,” Lacy said. “You’re going to make a good psychologist someday.”
Carrie snickered. “First, I have to get through freshman year.” She crossed the room to the door.
“Carrie,” Lacy called. Her sister turned back around. Lacy wanted to ask Carrie if she’d maybe thought about transferring close by to Wake Forest or the University of North Carolina next year instead of returning to Yale. But that was impossible, not to mention unfair. So she said, “Nothing. I just … miss you.”
“Yeah … I miss you too, Lacy Lou.”
The phone on Lacy’s desk rang. Lacy rolled her eyes. Her parents still had a landline.
She looked at her clock. It was 4:30 A.M.
“Mom and Dad?” Lacy guessed.
“Probably. I wish they’d pay more attention to the time difference.” Carrie picked up the phone and handed it to Lacy.
“No.” Lacy pulled her comforter up to her chin. “You talk to them.”
Carrie shook Lacy’s shoulder. “Stop being such a baby. I’m not around to run interference anymore. You’ve got to learn how to talk with them.”
Lacy sat up. “I am not a baby. But she’s probably calling for you anyway.” She grabbed the phone and pressed the Talk button. “Hello?”
Her mother answered with “Bonjour!”
“Hello, Mother. How was New Year’s in Paris?”
“Cold, but lovely. Are you behaving yourself? Silly question. Of course, you are. Where’s your sister? Can I talk to her, please?”
Lacy handed the phone to Carrie and whispered, “See?”
Carrie pretended to gag. “Hi…” she said into the receiver. “Fine … Yeah … Okay… Bye.” She set the phone back in its cradle. “She just wanted to wish me luck on my second semester at ‘that Yankee school.’ Told me to hurry up and pledge the right sorority.”
“When are they getting back?” Lacy asked.
“In a week. Unless the Hawthornes convince them to go to Monaco.” Carrie switched to her snooty English accent. “You know how Mum and Da get sidetracked when they’re on the Continent.”
Lacy couldn’t help laughing. Her sister always knew how to cheer her up.
“Go back to sleep, okay?” Carrie winked at Lacy and closed the door.
Instead of sleeping, Lacy lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She bit her lip as she thought about returning to school. Was her leg completely healed? Her surgeon—the top orthopedic specialist on the East Coast—told her she’d had a full recovery. She prayed he was right. If he wasn’t, she couldn’t play soccer. Lacy knew it was pathetic, but besides Carrie, her teammates were her real family. She couldn’t imagine a future without them.
T
he next morning, Lacy drove her blue T Mini Cooper into the Fraser High School parking lot. The car was a gift for her sixteenth birthday. Her dad had wanted to buy her a Lexus, but Carrie helped talk him out of it. Lacy felt uncomfortable flaunting their wealth. Plus, the Mini was seriously cute.
In order to get a good parking spot, Lacy arrived at school ten minutes earlier than usual. Then she took her time walking through the parking lot. She gripped the railing as she climbed the ten steps up to the school building. Her leg felt bare without the brace. She kept feeling for twinges and pangs in her knee. If she noticed anything out of the ordinary, she was driving home and getting her brace.
Lacy took a deep breath. You are such a wimp. Dr. Sinjaya said you don’t need the brace anymore. But her doctor’s opinion didn’t lessen her fear. The pain—both after the injury and after the surgery—had been agonizing. Pain pills had helped, but she hated the drugged-out way they made her feel. She had hobbled on crutches for five weeks, dependent on her mom, Carrie, and their housekeeper, Mrs. Langley, for even the smallest things. Physical therapy was frustrating too. It was like learning to walk all over again.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Dr. Sinjaya had said that her injury was one of the worst he’d ever seen. The day he told her she migh
t never play soccer again was one of the most devastating of her life.
But she hadn’t let that happen. She’d proved him wrong.
Lacy let go of the railing for the last three steps. As she reached the top landing, she heard, “Lace!” Someone grabbed her from behind in a huge hug.
She panicked as her right leg twisted awkwardly. “Nita!” she cried. She pushed her best friend away. “My knee! Be careful!”
Nita pressed her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “I’m sorry! You’re not wearing your brace, so I thought—”
“No, it’s okay,” Lacy said. “You just scared me.” She gave Nita a quick hug and grinned. “I’m okay, see?” She held out her arms and turned in a slow circle.
“Yay! I don’t know what I’d do without you making me look good for the scouts.”
“Um, thanks?” Lacy laughed and glanced at Nita’s hair. “Touch up?”
The tips of Nita’s hair were a vibrant blue. She had dyed the ends in honor of the University of North Carolina, where she hoped to attend on a soccer scholarship after graduation. As always, Lacy felt a little pang of envy. She wished she had cool parents like Nita’s, parents who didn’t care so much about appearances.
Nita flipped her hair with her fingers and batted her eyelashes. “U-N-C!”
Lacy smiled. “Come on, or I’ll be late for chemistry.”
Nita sighed. “Are you aware you have the worst first period ever?”
“Uh, yes.”
As they walked through the entrance, Nita asked, “Want to run this afternoon?”
Lacy hesitated.
“I mean, if you want to wait a few more days….”
A few more days, Lacy thought. How about a few more months? But she said, “No. I mean yes. I’m ready.” She had to be. Team practice would start in a few weeks. If she didn’t get in shape soon, she’d never be up to speed with teammates who’d played on club teams during the off-season. Who knew what soccer phenoms were trying out for this year’s team? The thought sent a nervous shiver through Lacy.
“Actually,” Lacy said, unlocking her locker and grabbing her chemistry book, “running after school is a great idea.”
“Good!” Nita said. “See you at lunch.” She trotted off to her locker at the end of the next hallway.
Lacy closed her locker door. Fraser High seemed more crowded than usual. The clamor of friends greeting each other reminded her of stampeding buffalo. She took a deep breath and stepped into the throng. Without Nita to distract her, she was suddenly aware of every enormous foot and every broad shoulder. She wished she wore a sign that read, “FRAGILE! DO NOT TOUCH!”
You’re okay, Lacy told herself. It’s only first-day jitters. She turned left. The sciences hallway beckoned, looking a little less crowded. Lacy sped up. She just wanted to reach her classroom and sit down.
“Hi, Lacy!”
Lacy glanced over her left shoulder to see who’d called. At the same moment, someone’s foot struck her right ankle. If she hadn’t been in a school hallway, she would have thought it was a soccer tackle. Her right leg swung out behind her. It happened so fast, she wasn’t able to catch herself before she sprawled onto the hard floor.
A scream lodged itself in Lacy’s throat. My knee. My knee! She sat up, her legs folded under her. Kids swarmed around her like gawkers at a car wreck.
“Back off!” she cried, terrified they’d step on her. “Please!”
“Lacy!” Alyssa Duncan, Fraser High’s goalkeeper, crouched and touched Lacy’s arm. “You just went down. What happened?”
“I … I’m not sure.”
“Are you okay?”
“Um … yes. I think so.” So far, she didn’t feel any pain. She stretched her legs out in front of her and gently pressed her fingers around her knee. No tenderness.
“Want me to get the school nurse?” Alyssa asked.
Lacy shook her head. “No. I’m okay.” She realized she was crying and brushed the tears off her face. “But can you help me up?”
“Sure.” Alyssa took Lacy’s hand as someone else said, “Here.”
A girl Lacy didn’t recognize extended her hand. Lacy hesitated, then grabbed it, grateful for the help.
“Thanks,” Lacy said, brushing herself off.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alyssa asked.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“I’ve got first period upstairs, so…”
Lacy nodded. “You’d better go.”
“You are playing soccer this season, aren’t you?” Alyssa asked.
“I hope so.”
“Great! We really need you.” Alyssa gave Lacy a warm smile and a thumbs-up before she headed down the hall.
The other girl hovered nearby. She was the same height as Lacy, about five foot seven. Her blonde hair was cut short, with slanted bangs, and she wore a nose ring. Lacy could make out the tip of a tattoo on the side of her neck—it looked like a scorpion.
“Nasty fall,” the girl said.
Lacy still felt shaken, but the fear was turning into embarrassment. Her cheeks felt hot. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“For real. Some kids sure have big feet.” She smiled and waved. “Well, see ya.”
“Sure. Thanks again.”
“Anytime.”
Lacy took a shuddering breath and headed to the restroom. At least the hallway had almost emptied out. As she splashed water on her face and waited for the redness in her eyes to fade, she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. Lacy could hear her mother’s lecture on manners.
It hit her as the bell rang. How did the girl know it was a foot that made me fall?
Lacy shook her head and walked to class. What else would it have been? A gust of wind?
L
acy inhaled as she stepped onto the field and began to grin. Nothing reminded her of a new soccer season like the scent of freshly mown grass. She felt like she was home.
After her tumble in the hall the first day of the semester, life had settled into a pretty dull routine: classes, then running after school with Nita. Then homework and a delicious, if lonely, meal cooked by Sam, her family’s chef. Just as Carrie had predicted, “Mum and Da” decided to stay in Europe an extra two weeks.
Her parents had offered to hire one of their former nannies while they were away, but Lacy was seventeen. She didn’t need a nanny. Even so, Mrs. Langley had agreed to stay on weekends until Lacy’s parents returned. That meant Lacy wasn’t completely alone in that big house.
Coach Berg looked up from where he was setting cones on the grass. “Hey, Sheridan. How’s the knee?”
Coach Berg was a little younger than her dad, maybe in his late thirties. He was in much better shape, though.
“It’s good, Coach.” Lacy answered, trying to sound confident. Coach didn’t take pity on players he thought were coddling injuries.
“Great,” he said, pacing off to set another cone. “We need you healthy and scoring.”
As Lacy greeted her returning teammates, she once again felt at home. Madison Wong, Dayton Frey, Elise Heisel, Addie Williams—she’d been playing on clubs with these girls since third grade. They didn’t always get along perfectly, but that didn’t bother Lacy. It just made them feel more like sisters.
Suddenly, Lacy realized that jogging across the field hadn’t bothered her leg. Sprinting was okay. She and Nita had even practiced a little dribbling, passing, and shooting at the soccer park. But Lacy hadn’t attempted the sort of sharp turns she’d need to make during a real game. And the thought of tackling drills made her heart race.
“Okay, get stretching!” Coach yelled.
Lacy sat on the grass and began toe stretches. After extending one leg in front of her, she breathed out slowly and leaned forward. One-one thousand, two-one thousand…
Her physical therapist had told her the right warm-ups were critical to keep from reinjuring her leg. She’d been doing these exercises for months. Sometimes she still expected to feel a painful twinge.
> “Hey, Lace.” Nita plopped down next to her and let out a satisfied grunt as she stretched. “I can’t believe how good this feels! Another season. Finally here.” She glanced over at Lacy. “Nervous?”
“As nervous as I was on the first day of school without my brace.”
“Hey, guys!” Dayton, who played right forward, sat down across from them and whispered, “So what do you think of the new crop of Copperhead wannabes?”
It was a subject Lacy had wanted to avoid. Even without the players who had graduated last year, the team still had a full load of forwards. And Fraser, North Carolina, had an overabundance of soccer talent on club teams. Plenty of sophomore girls would be eyeing all of their positions. Just what Lacy needed—more pressure.
She counted seven girls scattered across the field who hadn’t been on the team last year. They were stretching alone or in small groups. One of the loners—a girl with short, blonde hair—sat up from a low stretch. She looked at Lacy and gave her a smirking smile and a two-fingered wave.
Lacy smiled back, then quickly lowered her eyes. After falling in the hallway, Lacy hadn’t seen the girl again. In fact, she’d pretty much forgotten about her. But seeing her at practice brought all of the embarrassment rushing back.
“Nita,” Lacy whispered. “That’s the girl. The one in the hallway, right after I fell.”
Nita raised her eyes. “The fake blonde with the nose ring and tattoo?” She turned in a sideways twist toward Lacy. “Well, ya know what I think?”
“What?”
Nita lowered her voice. “I bet she did it. I bet she tripped you.”
“Are you kidding?”
“You said it felt like a tackle.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Lace. Even with your sheltered upbringing, you’ve got to admit she has a delinquent vibe. And she’s a soccer player, so she knows how to use her feet.”
“But you’ve never even met her. I’ve never met her. Why would she do something like that?”
“What are you guys talking about?” Dayton asked.
“Nothing,” Lacy said, looking at Nita. “I’m going to withhold judgment on the newbies until we watch them play.”
Blow Out Page 1
