Shutout (17 page)

Geezer exited the stadium, and I heard Conrad trying to start the chant of “Bullllllshit!” but he only got it out three times before Mom silenced him.

We hadn't scored, but we had scared the hell out of the Oldham team. They spent the rest of the game playing timid, defensive soccer, so concerned with holding their one-goal lead
that they'd given up trying to add to it. Girls were falling down in the mud, and I guess Oldham didn't want to risk losing the ball, so they held back and passed a lot, and their midfielders and defenders just killed time by booting it up the line and out of bounds instead of bringing it back to our half of the field.

I didn't get one more save because they didn't take any more shots. We actually got two more shots, but they were from really far away and like ten feet wide, so that hardly even counted.

Finally the ref blew her whistle signaling the end of the game, and a weird thing happened. We threw our hands up and yelled and ran around the field like crazy while the Oldham girls trudged toward their sideline and waited joylessly to get their trophy.

“Beasley! Beasley! Beasley!” we chanted, and Beasley ran onto the field and belly flopped into the mud, sliding about fifteen feet. We picked her up, and we were all there smiling and laughing and covered in mud with the cold rain pouring down on us, and it was probably the best moment of my whole life.

After a few minutes of yelling we calmed down, and Beasley said, “Listen. Both teams played their hearts out today, so I want you to give them a sincere ‘congratulations.' They're state champs and they deserve it.”

We nodded and marched up the field, telling Oldham that they'd had a good game. They were a little less enthusiastic than we were on delivering the post-game compliments. It looked like they hadn't quite realized they were state champs yet.

We lined up and stood in the rain while the commissioner of interscholastic something-or-other, some fat guy whose golf umbrella barely kept the rain off his gut, came out and gave Oldham a big trophy. They took it and headed off to their locker room, finally looking a little bit happy.

Once the ceremony was over, the field filled up with people from the stands, and my family came running toward me. I got big hugs from Mom, Dad, Dominic, and Conrad.

“That was just amazing,” Dad said. “That was the best soccer game I've ever seen.”

“You were awesome!” Dominic said. “Brick wall!”

“Yeah, I think it was the banner that did it,” I said, ruffling his hair.

“Great game,” Conrad said, already embarrassed that he'd hugged me.

“Thanks.”

“It really was spectacular. We're so proud of you,” Mom said. “Now go get a shower and some dry clothes on before we head over to Shakina's house.”

“Okay,” I said, and as I started toward the locker room, Angus elbowed his way through the crowd until he reached me.

“Hey, Amanda,” he said.

“Hi!” I answered.

“Great game.”

“Thank you,” I said. I looked over and saw Dad staring at me, giving me the thumbs-up. I wanted very badly to give him the finger, but I thought Mom might see and get mad.

“So, now that soccer's over, I was thinking maybe you and me could grab a cup of coffee after school next week,” he stammered. His face was purple again. It was kind of cute.

“Sounds good,” I answered. “I like coffee.” What a stupid thing to say. I fought off the urge to slap my own forehead.

“Cool,” he mumbled, and disappeared into the crowd.

Suddenly Shakina appeared next to me. “Did that kid just ask you out?”

“No! He just asked if I wanted to . . . uh, hang out sometime. At a coffee shop.”

“So he asked you to go somewhere with him. Alone.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I think that means he asked you out.”

“No it doesn't! Maybe. I don't know. I mean, look at me—I'm like the mud monster from Planet Gigantor. He just wants to be friends!”

Shakina looked at me like I was the dumbest girl on earth. “Manda, I don't know a lot about boys, but I do know that there is no such thing as a boy who just wants to be friends.”

“What if he's gay?”

“Okay. Maybe if he's gay. You think that kid is gay?”

“Well, he asked me to hang out, so he pretty much has to be, doesn't he? I mean, if he was straight, he probably would have asked you and the twins out.” Or Lena, I thought.

Shakina slapped the back of my head. “You just played the best game of soccer anybody here has ever seen. Time to put that low self-esteem crap to bed.”

I couldn't help laughing. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good then.”

Right then Shakina's mom yelled at her. “Shakina! You get your butt changed right now. We have to go!”

She smiled. “Mom's freaking out about having you guys over. She thinks you're gonna inspect the house with white gloves, so we've got to rush home and do some last-minute dusting under the furniture or something.”

“No wonder she and my mom get along so well. I'll see
you soon,” I said. “And by the way, that offsides call was bullshit.”

“Yeah, it was. We'll get 'em next year,” Shakina said before turning and heading toward the locker room, her mom yelling at her to hurry up the whole way.

I was about to go to the locker room myself, but then Lena was there in front of me. She was the only varsity member who had shown up, at least as far as I could see. I thought about how embarrassed and disappointed she must feel, and how hard it must have been for her to come out here today knowing she wasn't playing. But then, who ever said that doing the right thing was easy?

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

“That was an amazing game,” she said. “You were great.”

“Thank you,” I answered. “And thanks for coming. I appreciate it.”

We stood there kind of staring at each other for a minute while the rain pelted our heads. I wondered what I should say next. Nothing I had said for the last month and a half had been the right thing, so why would now be any different? “Well . . .” I started, and trailed off.

“I'm sorry,” she said, suddenly staring at the tops of her shoes. “I'm sorry . . . I'm just sorry for everything.”

What could I say to that? It's okay? It wasn't okay. I'm sorry too? I didn't do anything wrong. I tried to imagine what Dad would tell me to say, and this is what came out of my mouth: “I forgive you.”

I couldn't believe how good it felt to say those words. It was like anger at Lena and hurt at how she'd treated me was a song that had been playing in the background of my life, and when I forgave her, it turned off. It had been playing for so long that I'd forgotten about it, but the silence when it stopped sounded better than anything else in the world.

She threw her arms around me and started to cry. “I'm such an idiot. You know, me and Duncan broke up, and I've made a mess of everything.”

I hugged her back and said, “I'm sorry.” And I was. I didn't think she had it all coming to her because I couldn't say for sure that I wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in her shoes. I hoped I wasn't the kind of person who would do that to a friend, but then I'd never had the experience of suddenly becoming popular.

Lena pulled away, embarrassed. “Do you . . . do you want to hang out later? I'm grounded, but I'm sure Mom would be thrilled if you came over. She's done nothing since the suspension but rag on me about what horrible choices I've been making, like I didn't already know that.”

“Well, we're going to Shakina's house,” I said, and Lena's face fell. “But how about tomorrow?”

She smiled. “That sounds good. Call me.”

“I will,” I promised. I had put her number in my new phone just in case, but it was more out of superstition than hope. I felt like it would be bad luck for me to ditch her from my phone contacts even though I wondered at the time if I'd ever call her again.

I didn't know if Shakina and Lena would like each other.
I hoped they would, but even if they didn't, I probably had room in my life for two friends. Well, maybe three, depending on what exactly Angus was going to be to me.

You really can drive yourself crazy playing the what-if game. What if I'd taken Lena's number out of my phone? What if I had made varsity? What if Conrad and Lena had gone out during the summer? What if Duncan hadn't liked Lena? What if they hadn't broken up? I can't even really say that my life would be better if none of the stuff that happened this fall had ever happened—I probably wouldn't have become friends with Shakina, I wouldn't have had Beasley encouraging me to take yoga, so my heels wouldn't have gotten any better, and I might not have gotten to play in the best game of my whole life. Well, at least until I got to be the goalie on the World Cup champion U.S. national team.

For that matter, what if my birth mom had lived? I would probably never have met Mom. I might have met Conrad, but he'd probably just be some kid at school I saw in the hall. And Dominic would never have existed. Some days that doesn't seem like it would be so bad, but I really do love the little turd, and it's hard to imagine life without him. It seems like every single day, stuff is happening that can never un-happen, stuff that changes your life before you've even realized it.

You can think about all the other worlds where all these things didn't happen, or happened differently, or whatever, but why bother? You can imagine those worlds, but you can't live in them. You have to live in the real world, the world where stuff can't un-happen.

Right now that feels like a pretty good place to be.

The idea for this novel crystallized during a walk with Lori Lobenstine of
femalesneakerfiend.com
and her dog, Herschel. Lori also provided valuable early encouragement. Thanks to both of them!

Kate Kuhn Galle and Julie Foster Gneuss helped vet this book for female athlete realism since I have no experience playing on a girls' soccer team. Any errors in verisimilitude are of course my fault and not theirs.

Doug Stewart provided his usual awesome levels of support, enthusiasm, assistance, and friendship.

I really appreciate Janine O'Malley's careful attention to every word. This is a better book because she worked on it with me.

Last, but certainly not least, my family, Suzanne, Casey, Rowen, and Kylie were both inspiring and supportive as always. I am lucky to have them all.