So Jelly!

by Coco Simon

  “Thanks, girls,” said Mrs. Ellis.

  After Mrs. Ellis there was a steady stream of customers picking up treats for after school or after practice.

  “Welcome to Donut Dreams,” I said, spinning around, ready to help the next customer.

  I looked up and Ms. Castro, the town librarian, was smiling at me. “Hello, dear!” she said. “I was hoping you’d be here!”

  “I’m usually here on Fridays and Sundays,” I said. “But we had to change the schedule this week due to Fall Fest.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen much of you since school started,” she said. “I know the start of the year can be stressful, and I’m hoping you still have some time to stop by.”

  “You usually have trouble keeping me away!” I said. “I’ve been a little busy, but I’ve been meaning to come in. I heard about a book by P. J. Night that I really want to read.”

  “Oh, I know just the one you are talking about!” said Ms. Castro. “I’ll put it on the reserve shelf for you!”

  “Thank you!” I said.

  I had been telling Ms. Castro that I wanted to do her job ever since I was really little and Dad would take me there for the story-time hour.

  Dad and Mom would smile when I said I wanted to be the Bellgrove librarian and say, We’ll see. You can be anything, so let’s see what you really love. But I loved books and I loved to read. And I loved that library. I didn’t see why I would have to look any further.

  I packed up Ms. Castro’s order and we finally had a break.

  “Hi, there,” Lindsay said. “Whew, that was a rush.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess busy is better than not.”

  “True,” she said.

  Then I remembered I had field hockey after work today. “This is such a long Monday,” I moaned.

  “Since when is there a short Monday?” asked Lindsay. “I’m starving. Nans forgot to pack me a snack. Want a donut?”

  I shook my head no. “It’s slow now. Go ahead and just sneak it,” I said. “I’ll be lookout.”

  Lindsay looked around, then pinched a jelly donut from the case. She bit into it.

  “Mmm, these are so good,” she said. “Want a bite?”

  I nodded and leaned over, but when I bit into the donut, I must have hit a pocket of jelly, because it spurted out and a big blob landed on my nose.

  “Ugh!” I said.

  You never knew what was going to hit you in the face on a Monday.

  Chapter Eight I’m a Lot Like Dad

  My Monday continued at field hockey practice. It was a really nice evening and after the day I’d had, I didn’t mind having a chance to run with the fall air filling my lungs.

  But every time I started to relax, Amanda would yell, “Pass, pass, pass,” or “Downfield, faster!” She was barking orders at me and it really annoyed me.

  Coach Wickstead called us over. “Okay, girls, I’ve seen some tremendous talent and some good hustle. This year we’re going to have a starting team and what I’m calling the supporting team. If you’re on the starting team, that means you start all games. The supporting team will sub in and rotate as I feel is right for each game.”

  Naturally, Amanda made the starting team. So did Sophia! Isabella, Olivia, and I were part of the supporting team, which was okay with me.

  I gave Sophia a big hug. “Hey, A-lister!” I said.

  “Are you disappointed?” she asked.

  “I’m kind of relieved,” I said. “I like the game, but I’m not sure I like the pressure.”

  “I get that,” said Sophia. “And we still get to practice together! But that one makes me nervous.”

  She motioned toward Amanda.

  Amanda came over. “Congratulations, Sophia,” she said. “Kelsey, you’re a good player. You gave me a run for my money during some of those drills!”

  I was surprised, but I couldn’t help smiling. I gave Amanda a run for her money?

  That night at dinner Mom told us about the conference she’d been asked to present at. It was all about how small businesses managed their finances and grew.

  To be honest, it sounded a little boring, but it was still pretty cool to have a mom who spoke at conferences.

  Dad raised his glass and said, “Let’s all toast your awesome mother!”

  Then he marked the weekend she’d be away on the calendar to “make it official.”

  For some of the trips Mom or Dad made to St. Louis, we took turns going with them. Molly had gone with Dad over the summer when he went for a certification course. Jenna went with Mom a few weeks ago for back-to-school shopping. So this meant it was my turn.

  “Hey, I’m supposed to go with you to the city next!” I said. “Just the two of us.”

  “Well,” said Mom, “I need to check the school calendar and see if it will work. Plus, this time I’m not just attending a conference. I have to speak there, so it might be different. But yes, you are up in the batting order.”

  I was excited. A trip with Mom would be lots of fun, and I couldn’t even remember the last time it was just me with Mom. She’d be all mine. I was almost hopping up and down in my chair just thinking about it.

  “How was everyone’s day?” asked Dad. “Besides Big Shot Mom’s?”

  “Everyone is getting ready for Fall Fest,” Jenna said. “The tennis team has a booth where we’ll be doing face painting. It’s going to be a lot of fun.”

  “The soccer team is working at the balloon booth. But no one knows how to make balloon animals,” said Molly.

  “Did you hear Mike’s latest plan?” asked Mom. “He wants to do red donuts. Or at least jelly donuts, because they’re red inside.”

  “Red donuts don’t sound too great,” said Dad, making a face.

  “What about red velvet? Red velvet donuts could be very tasty,” Mom said.

  “Oh. Okay, I didn’t think of that,” Dad said. “I’m building a new stand for the Park this year that has a red awning. It’s going to look fantastic.”

  “The field hockey team is helping the Park,” I said.

  “Ooh, that’s great!” said Mom. “We could use the help.”

  “Yep, that was my idea,” I said. “We can help serve.”

  “So when will they announce the final team?” asked Dad.

  “Oh, they already did!” I said. “I made the supporting team, but not the starting team.”

  Everyone looked up.

  “Good job, Kels!” said Jenna.

  “Way to go!” said Molly.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Mom.

  “It’s not really a big deal,” I said. “As I predicted, because there were only four girls from my grade, we all made it. I’m not playing on the A team, but it’s okay. I still get to practice, and maybe next year I’ll start.”

  Dad nodded. “That’s right. You can play and have fun and see if you want to play more competitively next year.”

  “Do you think Riley will make the soccer team?” I asked Molly.

  Molly nodded. “She’s really good. I’m not sure about Isabella, though. She hasn’t played as much.”

  Ha ha, I thought, then stopped myself because I wasn’t sure exactly why I wouldn’t want Isabella to make the team. I wondered how Riley would feel playing alone.

  Later that night I was finishing homework and Dad came into my room, holding a piece of paper.

  “Hi, Kelsey,” he said. “So I have the hockey schedule, and I marked the games I think I can make.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Dad, I don’t think I’ll even be playing.”

  “Well, that’s okay,” he said. “You’re still part of the team, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “And it turns out I like being part of a team. It’s fun. But I don’t love the pressure of game day. I get too stressed out.”

  “That’s how I was!” said Dad.

  “You were?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yep. When I played soccer, I loved the game, but I hated game day. I was always too nervous th
at I’d do something stupid and everyone would be there watching me.”

  “So what did you do?” I asked.

  “Well, I realized it really was about being a good teammate and just playing my best,” said Dad. “Winning or losing didn’t change the game for me, and that was always my mantra.”

  “That sounds fun,” I said. “And not complicated. Like just show up and have fun and don’t worry about standings or playoffs or stats.”

  “Exactly,” said Dad. “Even when people around you are getting a little crazy or excited, you just need to remember to listen to your own voice and stay centered. Even if someone is yelling that you made a dumb play, you just act like you have a colander in your brain.”

  “A colander in my brain?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Dad. “A colander, like the kind we use when we drain the pasta water in the sink. But a colander in your brain means that you hear the good stuff and the positive stuff and you drain out all the bad stuff.”

  “Well, sometimes it’s important to hear bad stuff,” I said, thinking about how Mom would tell us that we had to be called out on our bad behavior so we’d recognize it.

  “Of course,” said Dad. “Constructive criticism is great and it can be very useful. But I’m talking about how nuts people can get in the heat of a game. That kind of stuff you just need to let go.”

  I nodded. I sort of understood.

  “You know, Kelsey, if you don’t want to play at all you don’t have to, but once the season starts, you need to commit. So as of tomorrow you’re in or out.”

  “I know,” I said. I also knew that Dad was giving me a way out. I could just come home after school and not play on the team and not even have to worry about Amanda.Was that what I wanted?

  All of a sudden, I was really tired.

  “You know what I think you need?” asked Dad. “A good night’s sleep.”

  “Yeah,” I said, yawning. “And you know what else I really need? I really need Monday to be over.”

  I hoped that when I went to bed later, I wouldn’t just lie there thinking about everything. Tonight, more than anything, I needed a deep, dreamless sleep. And a fresh start in the morning.

  Chapter Nine Team Spirit At Last

  Olivia was waving to me at the lunch table, and I groaned a little inside because I really just wanted to hang with Sophia, Michelle, and Riley so I could talk to them about my hockey doubts.

  “Addition is better than subtraction,” I repeated to myself.

  “Hello, teammate!” Olivia chirped.

  “Hi, B squad teammate!” I said.

  She laughed. “Go B team, go B team! Hey, here’s another B-lister!” she said as Hannah sat next to Olivia, setting her tray down carefully so she didn’t spill her chili.

  “Hey, I can live with B-list hockey, but I hope I’ll be in A-list student council,” Hannah said. “We have so much work to do. I also have a lot of ideas.”

  “Can I help?” asked Isabella, as she sat down and spread out her lunch.

  “Sure!” said Olivia. “But I thought you thought it was a dumb idea to run for student council.”

  Hmm, I thought. So maybe that’s why Olivia and Isabella weren’t BFFs anymore. Because Olivia decided to run for student council with Hannah?

  “I didn’t say it was a dumb idea,” said Isabella. “I said I wasn’t as interested in it. And that’s okay. We can do different things and still be friends. Plus, I said I’d help you with your campaign.”

  “Well, it hurt my feelings,” said Olivia.

  “Olivia, I’m just not a student council person,” said Isabella. “I don’t have the patience to listen to people, and getting up in front of the school and speaking… ugh.”

  I was surprised. Isabella was an outgoing person. “I get that,” I said.

  “Right?” said Isabella, turning to me. “Can you imagine getting up at that podium?” She shivered.

  “It’s not a big deal,” said Olivia. “We’ve known all these people for years!”

  “It’s totes a big deal,” said Isabella. “Trust me.”

  “Okay,” said Olivia. “Then if you don’t mind and you still want to, I need help. We need a whole strategy and a plan for what we want the council to act on in the next year.”

  Isabella took out her phone. “Of course I want to help. That’s what friends do. I’ve got my list maker here. Let’s start.”

  Sophia sat down. “The line in the cafeteria is so long and so slow that now I have about three seconds to eat lunch!” she said.

  “Well, there’s one,” said Olivia. “Make the cafeteria more efficient.”

  “Or give students a longer lunch period,” said Michelle as she wheeled over next to me.

  “Oh, that’s a good one,” said Olivia.

  Sophia turned to me. “You can work with student council when you become our class representative,” she said.

  “I’m not even sure what the class rep does,” I said.

  “You heard Principal Clarke,” said Isabella. “You represent us and talk through what our concerns are so that the council and teachers have some input. And the people who are in charge of making decisions will hear our voices and keep us informed about what’s going on. This way, if we request something, and if we can’t have it, hopefully we won’t just hear a flat no. We will hear the reason behind it. We’ll be able to keep our fellow classmates informed about everything going on.”

  “But that’s not me,” I said. “I have no idea how most people feel about things.”

  “But you are sensitive and a good listener,” said Michelle. “You always see the best in things. And you really get people. You know just what they need.”

  I wondered who she was talking about, because that sure didn’t seem like me lately. Lately I felt grouchy and selfish.

  “Not so sure about that, Michelle,” I said. I looked around. “Hey, where’s Riley?”

  Nobody knew, which was odd.

  “Maybe she decided to study in the library,” said Isabella. “We have a coding test next period.”

  We all hurried to finish our lunch.

  “Write that down,” said Sophia to Olivia. “Stop rushing us through the day. I don’t deal well with rushing!”

  Olivia nodded. “I can try, but I can’t invent more hours in the day. That’s a little beyond me!”

  We laughed as the bell rang.

  “And that’s a wrap!” said Isabella.

  “Ugh!” said Sophia, shoving a mini burrito in her mouth. “I’m definitely going to get a stomachache.”

  As I was headed out, I saw Riley in the hall, and she didn’t look great.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Get a pass and meet me in the bathroom!” she whispered.

  So I asked for a restroom pass and met her there. “What’s up?” I asked, checking the stalls to see if anyone else was in there.

  “I don’t want to play in the soccer scrimmage today,” said Riley.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m scared,” said Riley. “It’s super competitive. Your sister and the other girls have been playing for a while, and it’s my first year. What if I make a stupid play, or fall on my face?”

  “You won’t!” I said.

  Riley looked at me.

  “Okay, even if you do, what’s the worst that can happen?” I asked.

  “People will laugh?” said Riley.

  “Well, then they aren’t good teammates,” I said. “Look, you made the team! That means you’re a good player!”

  “If I mess up everyone will wonder why I made the team,” she said.

  “Or they’ll just think you had a rough day on the field, but that you tried, which is the most important thing,” I said.

  “What if I lose the game for the whole team?” she asked.

  “One person can never lose a game for a team. It takes a whole team to win or lose a game,” I replied.

  Riley stared at me for a moment. “Okay, since when di
d you become Tammy Teammate and what have you done with Kelsey?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m trying to help you,” I said. “Besides, you just need to block everyone out during the game. You are a good player and you love the game. Just keep thinking about that and don’t listen to the voice that says you can’t do it.”

  “Thanks,” said Riley. “And I’m glad you aren’t mad at me.”

  “Why would I be mad at you?” I said.

  “I thought you’d just be mad that I didn’t play hockey with you and Soph because we do almost everything together,” she said.

  “I’m disappointed we can’t all play together,” I said. “But I want you to do what you love and what you’re good at. And we don’t always have to do everything together to stay friends.”

  Huh, I thought. That’s kind of like what Isabella said to Olivia. And it made a lot of sense.

  “We are still friends, right?” Riley said.

  “What?” I said. “Of course!”

  “Well, I figured you and Sophia were so mad that I kind of got kicked out of the peas in a pod club. I like Isabella a lot, but it’s not the same as the four of us.”

  “You can’t get kicked out of this club,” I said firmly.

  “We probably are going to get kicked out of class if we don’t get back there,” said Riley.

  She splashed some water on her face.

  “Better?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Thanks, Kels,” she said. “You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better.”

  “That’s what friends are for!” I said as I pushed open the bathroom door.

  “Even when they throw up from nerves on the soccer field?” she said.

  “Even then,” I said. “But try not to do that. You’ll be the Wetsy Betsy of the soccer team.”

  “Oh no,” said Riley, stifling a laugh. “I’ll be Ralphing Riley! I’ll be known forever as the girl who spewed her lunch on the goal line!”

  We were both laughing hard as we scurried back to class, but my conversation with Riley got me thinking.

  I hadn’t wet my pants in school or thrown up on a field. I likely wouldn’t be the star of the hockey team. So what would I be known as?