by Alex Morgan
The next day at school I tried not to think about how none of the eighth graders had texted me back. Instead I tried to concentrate on my schoolwork. But when I got to seventh-period World Civ class, I started thinking of something else: Steven. I hadn’t talked to him since he’d brushed me off after the play-off game. I twisted around in my seat, trying to catch a glimpse of him. Not only was he there, but he was staring right at me! I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, but Steven just smiled and waved. I did the same before turning around. Real smooth, Devin! I told myself.
After class he was waiting for me in the hallway.
“Hey,” he said. “I heard Coach Valentine has taken over until Coach Flores gets back. How’s that going?” he asked with a sly grin.
“Ugh!” I groaned. “I feel like I’m in boot camp with a drill sergeant who also moonlights as a comedian.”
Steven laughed. “Do you ever feel like you’re not sure if you should be saluting him or laughing at one of his jokes?”
“Oh my gosh, totally!” I said. We started walking down the hallway. “So how do you guys put up with him? Do you have any pointers?”
“Yeah, just always do what he says, and you’ll have no problem,” Steven said, and laughed. “But actually, he’s not all bad. He can be really nice, and once our team got into a rhythm with him, we started having a lot of fun at practices. Plus, my skills have improved a lot since I’ve had him as a coach.”
“Your lap running skills?” I joked.
“And my push-up skills.” Steven smiled back at me. We were both laughing as we walked into the classroom together.
I saw Cody leaning over Jessi’s desk. They were both smiling as Jessi looked up at me. She saw me and winked. The bell rang, and Cody took his seat next to Steven. I slid into the chair next to Jessi’s and returned her smile.
“Steven smile!” she whispered to me.
“Cody smile!” I whispered right back. We both laughed. It looked like Steven and Cody had both gotten over their disappointment at losing the play-off game. I was glad for them. Now if only the eighth graders could get over being mad at me!
CHAPTER NINE
Thinking about what Steven had said helped make practice a little more bearable that afternoon. I wanted to improve my soccer skills too, and if Coach Valentine could help me do that, then the hard work was worth it. And if the boys could do it, so could I, right?
Thinking about pizza helped me get through practice too. Even though only the seventh graders were going, I knew it would still be fun. (And also, I loved pizza!)
We ran back into the locker room to change when practice was over. Lately the eighth graders were all changing by the back row of lockers, and the seventh graders were all clumped together by the front door. It almost felt like we were two different teams!
“So, I was thinking, do we have to go to Vinnie’s?” Jessi asked as we got changed.
“What’s wrong with Vinnie’s?” I asked.
“Well, they don’t make pineapple pizza, and I’m totally craving that,” she answered.
“Mmm, pineapple!” Anna agreed.
I made a face. Back in Connecticut nobody put pineapple on pizza. But in California people put all kinds of strange stuff on it. I liked mine old-school—plain, pepperoni, or sometimes a veggie slice. But that was as crazy as I got.
“Well, where do you want to go?” I asked.
“How about Pizza Kitchen?” Emma suggested.
I shrugged. “That’s fine with me. Everybody else okay?”
All of the girls nodded. “Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s all meet at Pizza Kitchen.”
Jessi’s mom had agreed to drive me, Frida, Emma, and Zoe, so we all piled into her minivan once we got to the parking lot.
“Mom, we’re going to Pizza Kitchen instead,” Jessi informed her as she slid into the passenger seat.
Mrs. Dukes smiled. “Oh, good. I need to do some shopping, and that’s right next to the market.”
A few minutes later we arrived at Pizza Kitchen, a pretty normal-looking pizza parlor in the middle of a strip mall. Brianna, Sarah, Anna, and Olivia had gotten there first and were pushing two tables together so we could all sit in one place.
“Should we get slices or a couple of pizzas?” Brianna asked. “Pizzas are cheaper if we can all agree.”
“Pineapple!” yelled Jessi and Frida at the same time.
“Anything but pineapple!” I yelled, and we all started laughing. After we all weighed in, we finally agreed on getting one pineapple pizza and one plain (although Frida was disappointed about not getting her anchovies).
“I’ll go put in the order,” I said, heading for the counter.
Then the bell on the door jingled, and I turned my head. Grace and Megan were walking in the front door. Grace turned a little bit pink when she saw me, and she and Megan turned their heads and started to whisper. Then they both sat down at the table closest to the door.
Okay, I thought. So they didn’t want to have pizza with us. They’re still allowed to have pizza together, right?
I stepped up to the counter and placed our order, and when I turned around again, more girls were coming through the door. Eight more girls, in fact—the rest of the eighth-grade Kicks!
Maya got a look of shock on her face, and it looked like she was going to say something to me, but Megan quickly pulled her down onto the chair next to her. I went back to my table, where my friends were all talking.
“Can you believe it?” Jessi asked.
“They must have thought that we were going to Vinnie’s,” Frida guessed, “and they planned their own pizza thing here.”
Jessi turned and looked right at them. “We should say something.”
“No, we shouldn’t!” Emma looked anxious.
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Zoe asked. “Pretend like we don’t see them?”
“Of course not,” I said. “But Jessi’s right. I’m going to ask them about it.”
I marched over to their table with Jessi beside me.
“Hi,” Jessi said loudly.
“Hey,” Grace said with a toss of her blond hair, not looking either of us in the eyes. Next to her Megan just kind of glared at me. The rest of the girls started whispering to one another.
“Did any of you get my texts? About going for pizza as a team?” I asked.
Grace looked uncomfortable. “We planned our own pizza night,” she said without answering my question.
“I get that you guys are mad at me,” I said. “But why are you taking it out on the other seventh graders? That’s not fair.”
“Grace is a captain too,” Alandra piped up, her eyes flashing. “I don’t think you seventh graders get that.”
“Yeah, everyone on the team should listen to Grace as much as they do to you,” Anjali said.
“Does that mean listening when Grace tells them not to pass the ball to me? Because as a captain I would never tell anyone to do that.” I felt my cheeks turning red as I spoke.
“I told you, I never told anyone to do that,” Grace said, her voice rising.
“Maybe the eighth graders are the ones who need to listen to you more,” Jessi said, her arms crossed in front of her. “Because that’s what they’ve been telling the seventh graders to do. And they’re saying it’s what you want.”
Grace shrugged while Megan shook her head and stood up.
“Whatever,” she said. “We need to order our pizza.” She walked over to the counter, and Grace followed her.
Jessi and I walked back to our own table. “Unbelievable!” she hissed.
I shook my head. “This is bad. There’s no way we can play as a team if we’re divided like this.”
A server came by and put two pizzas on our table, along with plates, napkins, and pitchers of drinks. The eighth graders had almost ruined my appetite—almost. I couldn’t resist the smell of the hot pizza, so I grabbed a slice. Next to me Emma started shaking red pepper flakes on hers.
“Mmm, spicy!”
she said, taking a bite.
“What happened?” Frida demanded.
Jessi filled her in.
Anna shook her head. “If Grace wants us to listen to her as captain, she should talk to us as a team at practice. How are we to know what to believe with all these MyBook rumors flying around?”
I groaned. “If only Coach Flores were here. If she had planned this team building exercise, the eighth graders would have come, and maybe we could have put all of this behind us.”
Everyone nodded sadly as they chewed their pizza.
“This is a total bummer,” Brianna said. “Let’s change the subject.” She looked down the table at Zoe. “Zoe, I’m so psyched for your bat mitzvah. And I love your theme.”
Zoe grinned. “ ‘Fashion Week.’ Yeah, I had to do that one!”
“I think I found the cutest dress,” Olivia chimed in. “Did you find yours yet?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to two,” Zoe replied. She handed Olivia her phone. “The black one is so beautiful. But the pink one is more fun. What do you think?”
“I like the pink one,” Olivia said. She showed the phone to Sarah. “What do you think?”
“Pink,” Sarah agreed. “I think black is too harsh for you, Zoe.”
Then she scrolled through the photos. “Hey, what’s this black one with the fringe? That’s really cool.”
“I’m getting that one,” Frida said.
Zoe sighed and looked at me and Emma. “You know, we really need to get back to Debi’s so that you guys can get your dresses.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s just been so hard, with practice and everything, and we’ve got a game on Saturday. . . .”
Zoe frowned. “You know, I’m starting to wish that we had never made the play-offs,” she grumbled.
Nobody said anything right away, and there was an awkward silence at the table.
Emma spoke up first. “Zoe, we all wanted to make the play-offs. I know you don’t mean that.”
“I don’t. It’s just—it’s getting in the way,” she said, looking away from us. “I am totally stressed out. I’ve got to plan this bat mitzvah, practice soccer, and then there’s school besides. It’s too much.”
“Everything will be fine,” Emma promised. “You’re a great soccer player; you’re, like, an A student; and the party is going to be amazing. I’m even wearing a dress for you.”
Zoe smiled a little. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“And we’ll find a way to get to Debi’s and get our dresses,” I said. “I promise.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said. She sounded relieved, but her worried look returned when she glanced at the eighth graders. “You know, I invited the whole team to my party. Do you still think they’ll come?”
“I hope so,” I answered, even though I wasn’t sure if they would.
Her question made me upset. I slapped my half-eaten slice onto my plate. Now I had definitely lost my appetite.
Coach Flores was still gone. We weren’t working together as a team. And in two days we were facing our rivals, the Panthers, for the title of league champions. I didn’t think we had any chance at all of beating them now.
But I didn’t tell my teammates that. I was their co-captain, after all, and it was my job to help lead the team, no matter how I felt inside.
I picked up my water glass. “To the Kicks!” I said.
“To the Kicks!” everyone repeated, clicking glasses.
Across the room I could see the eighth graders looking at us. I raised my glass toward them, too, and Megan rolled her eyes.
I tried not to let it get to me. Maybe they weren’t going to be team players, but I still could be.
CHAPTER TEN
“Devin, pinch me!” Frida held out her arm to me. We were sitting in the back of my parents’ van with Maisie, on our way to the game.
I gave Frida a small pinch.
“Ouch!” she cried, rubbing her arm. “Okay, I’m not dreaming. We’re really on our way to the league championship game! But why does the game have to be at the Pinewood field?”
“Well, Pinewood had more wins than us this season, so they get to host the game,” I explained.
“You’re going to beat Pinewood, right?” Maisie asked.
“I hope so,” I replied, my heart beating faster at the thought. “We beat them once before. If we win today, we’ll get the division trophy.”
“Wow!” Maisie said, her eyes growing wide.
“And if we win this game, we’ll have a chance at being state champions,” I told her.
“We lost to the Panthers once too,” Frida reminded me as she nervously tapped her foot. “I’m really going to need to psych myself up today.”
“I was trying to think of a good character for you, but I can’t,” I said. “Maybe Emma has an idea.”
“What are you talking about?” my little sister asked.
“I like to pretend I’m someone else on the soccer field,” Frida said. “It’s fun. Plus it helps me not be nervous when I’m out there.”
Maisie’s eyes lit up. “How about a princess?”
“A soccer princess? I don’t think so,” I said. “Frida needs to be somebody strong and tough for this game.”
“But princesses are strong and tough,” Maisie protested. “Like Princess Fiona in Shrek.”
Frida nodded. “You know, that might work. I could be Princess Frida, and the opposing players could be . . . evil goblins!”
“And you’re helping Princess Emma to guard the treasure in the tower,” I said.
Frida laughed. “Perfect!”
“Can I help?” Maisie asked.
She looked at me with her big brown eyes, and it was one of those times when I remembered how cute she was.
“Sure,” I said. “You can be Princess Maisie, and you can send Princess Frida special princess energy from the stands.”
Maisie nodded. “I will send you lots of princess energy,” she said, her expression serious.
Then we pulled into the parking lot at the Panthers field. They had decorated their stands with purple and gold streamers, and there were big signs everywhere that read, GO PANTHERS! Players from both teams were starting to warm up on opposite sides of the field.
“Look, goblins!” Maisie yelled, pointing at the Panthers players.
Frida laughed. “Your little sister is awesome.”
“Yeah, I guess she is,” I admitted.
Frida and I ran to join the Kicks on the field. We jogged past a group of Panthers. One of them was a tall girl with her dark hair pulled back into a French braid.
“Hi, Mirabelle,” I said.
I guess you could have called Mirabelle a frenemy of mine. She was on the Kicks when I first joined, but now she played for the Panthers.
Mirabelle nodded. “Hey, Devin,” she said coolly, and then she and the Panthers jogged off.
“Well, that was surprisingly drama-free,” Frida said. “I was expecting some trash talk.”
“I think we have a truce with Mirabelle,” I said. “She sort of took our side when the Rams were trying to sabotage us.”
Frida nodded. “Well, the Rams were trying to frame Mirabelle for everything they did, so that makes sense.”
“Anyway, I’m glad she’s being cool,” I said. “That’s one less thing to worry about today.”
Coach Valentine had the girls dribbling around cones that he had set up, and Frida and I lined up behind Emma to wait for our turn.
“Oh my gosh!” Emma said. “Did you get that e-mail from Coach Flores last night?”
Frida and I nodded. Coach had sent a message to everyone on the team.
To all my Kicks:
I want to apologize for leaving so suddenly. My dad is in the hospital, and it was pretty serious for a while, but it looks like he’s doing better now. I won’t make it to tomorrow’s game, but I want you to know that I’m with you all in spirit. You guys have worked hard for this. Do your best, help one another out, and no matter what happens
, know that I am superproud of you.
Coach Flores
“I totally cried when I read it!” Emma said.
“Me too,” Frida admitted.
“I hope the eighth graders read that part about helping one another out,” I said, eyeing Grace as she dribbled through the cones.
“Of course they did,” Emma said. “Don’t worry, Devin. They’re not going to do anything to mess up the game for us.”
I wish I could say that Emma was right. But from the start of the game, it was clear that the eighth graders were still holding a grudge.
Coach Valentine had Grace in the midfield with Maya, Taylor, and Jessi—the only seventh grader on the line. He started me, Zoe, and Megan as forwards, just like Coach Flores usually did.
The Panthers won the toss and chose to receive first, but Megan quickly intercepted the ball from them. As she dribbled down the field, two Panthers charged her.
“Megan, over here!” I yelled. I was only about ten feet away, and she had a clear shot.
But Megan ignored me. She kicked the ball to Grace, who must have been fifty feet away. One of the Panthers swept in and kicked it before Grace could get to it. The Panthers player made a beeline for our goal, but our defensive line was ready for her.
“Princess power!” Frida yelled, kicking the ball away. One of the Panthers looked at Frida like she was nuts, and I had to laugh. If acting like this hadn’t made Frida a much better player, I would have been embarrassed. But now I was used to her tearing up the soccer field as a vampire, alien, and lots of other crazy characters. Whatever worked!
Taylor got the ball from Frida, and she could have easily passed it to Jessi. But she passed it to Maya instead, and one of the Panthers blocked it. That was how it went the whole first half. The eighth graders refused to pass to any of the seventh graders. Jessi started to get angry about it.
“Come on, over here!” she yelled at one point when Taylor had the ball. She could have easily passed to Jessi, but she just ignored her, and one of the Panthers kicked the ball right from under Taylor’s feet.
