Ben nodded. Shayna meant him and Mark. Ben knew she was right.
As recess ended, Mark came running up to them. He was sweating from the game of tag. He stared at Ben. “How come you’re hanging out with girls?” he asked.
“Because I didn’t play four square today,” Ben said.
“You should have played tag with us,” Mark said. “I beat everybody.”
“How do you beat everybody at tag?” Ben asked.
“I don’t know,” Mark said. “I just did. When I was ‘It,’ I tagged somebody else. When I wasn’t ‘It,’ I kept away.”
“That’s what everybody does,” Ben said.
“I did it better.”
Ben shook his head.
This guy is too much
, he thought.
Back in class, Ben tried to concentrate on Mrs. Soto’s math lesson. But his mind kept going back to the soccer field. He knew that the best chance the Bobcats had to win a game would be if he and Mark could somehow work together.
But how could you work with someone who never thought about anyone else? Mark never passed and he always made harsh comments when Ben made mistakes.
I guess I’m not perfect either
, Ben thought.
The sun was warm and bright as Ben’s team lined up for its first soccer game. They were all wearing blue shirts that said
BOBCATS
.
Across the field, the Tigers were ready to play, too. They had orange shirts. There were eight teams in the town league, and the Bobcats would play each of them at least once over the next two months. The best teams would earn spots in the play-offs, and
the winners of the championship would get trophies.
“There’ll be six players on the field for each team—three forwards, two defenders, and a goalie,” Coach Patty said. She explained that each game would include two twenty-minute halves. “So all eight of you will play a lot.”
Ben, Erin, and Mark were in the front line for the Bobcats. Shayna was the goalie, and Kim and Darren were on defense.
The whistle blew and a Tiger player kicked the ball hard. All of the players ran after it. Mark got to it first.
“Over here!” called Ben. But Mark kicked the ball up the field and chased it.
Coach Patty had reminded the team not to crowd around the ball.
“If your teammate has the ball, go to a place where he or she can pass it to you,” she’d said.
So Ben ran toward the front of the goal.
Mark kept racing up the field, kicking the ball again. Three Tigers were running close to him. Mark was almost at the end of the field.
“I’m open!” yelled Ben. He had reached a place just in front of the Tigers’ goal. If Mark would pass the ball, Ben would have a chance to score.
But Mark had kicked the ball too hard. It rolled over the line at the end of the field before he could catch up to it. The referee blew his whistle.
“That’s out of bounds,” the referee said. “The ball goes to the Tigers.”
Ben and Erin and Mark jogged back toward the center of the field.
“I was open,” Ben said to Mark.
“So was I,” Mark said.
“I was right in front of the goal,” Ben said. “You made a dumb play.”
Mark just looked away.
Ben shook his head. The Tigers were coming toward the Bobcats’ goal. A swarm of blue and orange shirts ran over, trying to get the ball.
The game went back and forth for several minutes. Once again, Mark dribbled the ball all the way down the field. Ben and Erin ran to the front of the Tigers’ goal.
Mark tripped over the ball and fell down.
While Mark was getting up, one of the Tigers moved quickly down the field with the ball. Then she made a pass right across the
front of the Bobcats’ goal. A teammate was waiting there. He stopped the pass with his foot, then shot it hard toward the goal.
Shayna was ready. She dived toward the ball, but didn’t quite reach it. The ball flew into the net. The Tigers had scored!
“Remember to pass the ball,” Coach Patty told the team during a break. “We’re Bobcats, not hogs. We won’t score if one player hogs the ball.”
Ben shook his head. He knew who Coach was talking about.
Coach put Ben on defense for a little while, and later he played goalie. He stopped one shot that made his hands sting, and he was proud that the Tigers didn’t score against him.
Late in the game, Ben, Shayna, and Mark were on the front line. The Tigers still had a 1–0 lead.
“Let’s tie this game!” Ben shouted as Shayna ran up the field with the ball.
Two Tigers ran close to Shayna. She stopped and made a nice pass to Mark.
Mark booted the ball and ran after it at full speed. When he reached it, he kicked it again and kept running.
Ben was running, too. He got close to the goal and darted to the left. “Pass!” he yelled to Mark.
Mark turned toward the goal and tried to squeeze through two Tigers. One of them kicked the ball away. Another Tiger booted it far down the field.
While the players were chasing the ball, the referee blew his whistle. “Game’s over!” he called.
The Bobcats had lost, 1–0.
Ben was breathing hard and he was sweating. He walked to the side of the field with his teammates. Coach Patty clapped her hands.
“Great game!” Coach said. “You guys really played hard.”
They shook hands with the Tigers, then joined their coach again.
“We should have won,” Mark said.
“Maybe next time,” Coach said.
Maybe
, Ben thought.
But only if Mark learns to pass the ball. We’ll never win if we don’t play like a team
.
He decided to add
Pass the ball!
to the list of soccer tips he was keeping.
Later that day, Ben sat at the kitchen table across from Erin, staring at the chessboard. He had just four players left, but Erin had six. Even so, Ben thought he had a good chance to win.
He moved his black rook forward and captured one of Erin’s white pawns.
“Got ya,” he said.
“Nice move,” Erin said with a frown. But
then she smiled. “I think you overlooked something, though.”
Erin picked up her bishop and Ben winced. She slid the piece across the board and captured Ben’s rook. “Looks like someone’s in trouble,” she said.
Ben rubbed his chin with his hand and
studied the board. Erin was right. There was no way he could win now.
“Give up?” Erin asked.
Ben shook his head slowly. He moved his pawn forward one space. “It’s not over yet,” he said.
But Erin moved her bishop again, putting Ben’s king in danger. It only took two more moves for her to win.
“Nice try,” she said.
Ben had never beaten Erin at chess. She’d taught him how to play a few months before. Erin had been playing with her dad for two years. She always managed to capture Ben’s stronger pieces, especially after he’d taken one of her weaker ones.
“It’s like a soccer game, isn’t it?” Ben said. “You have to know where all of the players are and what they’re able to do.”
“That’s true,” Erin said. “You always have to be thinking ahead. And if one of the players
makes a risky move, it usually hurts the whole team.”
“Like Mark, huh?”
Erin laughed. “Yes. Like Mark.”
Erin picked up one of the black rooks. “See, this player can move up and down the board as far as he wants. But if he tries to win the game all alone, he’ll usually get knocked out. The pieces have to work together.”
“You’d be a good coach,” Ben said.
“Thanks.”
Ben’s parents came into the kitchen.
“Time to chop the broccoli!” Dad said. He winked at Erin. “Ben’s favorite food.”
Ben winced. “Better cover it with tomato sauce,” he said.
“It’ll be garlic and olive oil,” Mom said. “We just bought some shrimp at the market.”
“Fresh pasta, too,” Dad said. “Can you stay for dinner, Erin?”
Erin looked at the clock. “I have to go
home. It’s my dad’s turn to cook tonight. He’s roasting a chicken.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “Maybe tomorrow we can play chess again. I think I’m getting closer to beating you.”
“In your dreams,” Erin said.
Ben walked to Erin’s driveway with her, then turned back. He started to run, imagining that he was racing past soccer players and heading toward the goal. He dodged left, then right, and saw himself shooting the ball into the net.
The pieces have to work together
, he thought.
He’d be ready to score if that pass ever came.
Tyler’s new four-square group was still going strong. They’d asked Ben to join for the first few days, but he’d refused to play unless they let Loop back in, too. Now they didn’t bother asking.
Ben hadn’t played four square in a week. And now Loop had dropped out of the second group because the action wasn’t fast enough. He and Ben just tossed their ball
against the brick wall and took turns catching it.
“Aren’t we the two best players?” Loop asked.
“Probably,” Ben said.
“So why are we the only ones not playing?”
Ben shrugged. He pointed to the second group. “They’ve already got six.” He jutted his chin toward Tyler and the others. “And they’ve got an attitude problem.”
“Well, this is boring. Some kids from another class asked me if I wanted to start a third group.”
“Really?” Ben asked. “Who?”
Loop pointed across the playground. “That guy, for one.”
Ben couldn’t believe Loop was pointing to Mark.
“Him?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a total pain.”
“He’s a good athlete,” Loop said. “He was on my baseball team last summer. So what if he’s a pain?”
“He’s on my soccer team,” Ben said. “Believe me, we won’t have any fun playing with him.”
“Too bad,” Loop said. “We still have time to get a game going before recess is over. You in?”
“No thanks.” Ben sat against the wall. Soon there were three games under way. Sixteen players were involved.
But not Ben. He tried to act as if he didn’t care that he was sitting there alone, but it was hard to keep his eyes off the four-square games. Loop had joined right in with Mark and that group, and they seemed to be having a good time. Tyler’s group had the best players, but Ben could have had fun in any of the games.