Win or Lose (7 page)

Frida turned to Zoe. “Your turn! First, name four boys.”

Zoe shrugged. “I don't even know if I ever want to get married.”

“Fine,” Frida said. “We'll skip that part. Name four jobs.”

As Frida and Zoe played, Jessi turned to me.

“I heard Coach Flores wasn't here to teach her gym classes today,” she said to me. “I wonder if we'll have practice.”

“They would have made an announcement in homeroom if it was canceled, right?” I asked. Practices were rarely canceled, but when they were, an announcement was made over the school's PA system.

“Maybe she'll be in later,” Brianna said. Today she, Sarah, and Anna were eating lunch with us.

Talking about practice made me think about if the eighth graders really wouldn't pass the ball to me. “I wonder if the eighth graders are still mad at me,” I said. “I was on MyBook on Sunday. Usually after a game I'd chat with Grace and we'd go over everything. You know, talk about what worked and what didn't for the team. But I didn't hear from her.”

Brianna shifted in her chair, and I saw Anna's brown eyes grow even wider as she shot Brianna a look.

I sighed. “Just tell me. What is it now?”

Brianna tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder. She was very straightforward, so I knew she'd tell me the truth.

“Alandra and Zarine were calling you a ball hog,” Brianna said, “when we were all chatting online on Saturday night.”

“I told them they were being totally unfair,” Anna chimed in. “I saw that play. You would have been stupid to pass the ball to Megan.”

Sarah nodded. “I said the same thing. But then they said something really nuts.”

I groaned. “Let me guess. They told you not to pass the ball to me, right?”

“Yep,” Anna said. “I said they were crazy. How is that any way for a team to play? Especially with the championship coming up.”

“When we told them that, Alandra said it would be only for a couple of practices. So you would learn to be more ‘humble,' ” Brianna said, and rolled her eyes. “She said that was what Grace wanted, and since Grace was the eighth-grade captain, we should listen to her. For the good of the team.”

“I couldn't believe what I was hearing,” Sarah said. “I told them there was no way that could be good for the team.”

“Then Zarine said that since Grace is the eighth-grade captain, she has seniority over Devin and we should listen to her,” Anna said. “And when we all said we wouldn't do it, they just stopped talking to us.”

I groaned. “
Great. The seventh graders versus the eighth graders. Just the kind of team unity we need for our next play-off game,” I said sarcastically.

Frida looked up from the MASH game and put a hand over her heart. “A soccer team divided against itself cannot stand,” she said solemnly. Then she smiled. “But on the bright side, Zoe is going to be a fashion designer and live in a mansion in Paris!”

Zoe had a huge smile on her face. “I hope that does come true!”

“Can you do a MASH for the Kicks? Because I'm worried about our team's future,” I said with a frown.

“Let's see what happens at practice today,” Emma suggested. “If they still seem mad, maybe we should try to talk it out.”

“I guess,” I said. “I'll try anything at this point!”

When I walked into the locker room with Jessi before practice, I felt the butterflies in my stomach doing the cha-cha. How were the eighth graders going to act toward me?

A hush fell over Grace, Taylor, Anjali, and Megan, who'd been talking when we'd first walked in. They looked away and wouldn't make eye contact with me.

I was surprised to feel the butterflies disappear. I wasn't nervous anymore, just angry. This was ridiculous!

“Grace, can I talk to you for a second?” I asked, gesturing to the bathroom.

Grace frowned. “I guess.”

We walked into the bathroom together, and I turned to face Grace.

“Look, I get that you are mad at me about the newspaper article. I'm totally telling the truth that I did not say that quote.” Grace's face remained stiff. “You can believe me or not. That's up to you. But can't we get along, for the good of the team?”

“You know, I'm not the only one who's mad. A lot of the other girls are too,” Grace said, her arms crossed in front of her.

“You mean a lot of the eighth graders,” I pointed out. “And you should know that a lot of the seventh graders are mad that you asked the entire team not to pass the ball to me.”

“I never said that!” Grace said, her voice rising.

“That's not what I heard,” I shot back. “And I think it's really immature.”

“So you want me to believe you about the newspaper article, but you won't believe me about this?” Grace fumed.

I hadn't thought of it like that. I stared at Grace, not knowing what to say. After all, I had heard from Brianna the thing about it being Grace who wanted everyone not to pass the ball to me, and Brianna had heard it from someone else on MyBook. There were always lots of rumors on MyBook. Who knew for sure if it was true? But before I could admit that to Grace, she turned and stormed out of the locker room.

Things had just gone from bad to worse!

Once I was back in the locker room, I decided to steer clear of Grace until she had time to cool off. Then I would try to talk to her again. If she didn't want to talk to me, then I'd have to let Coach Flores know what was going on. She'd know what to do.

Jessi looked at me curiously. “What happened?” she whispered.

“I'll tell you later,” I said back. I didn't want anyone overhearing us. I changed quickly and headed for the door.

But all of us—both seventh and eighth graders—were in for a shock once we got on the field for practice. Instead of Coach Flores's smiling face, we were greeted with the tall, imposing figure of Coach Valentine, the boys' soccer coach. He blew sharply into his whistle.

“Listen up!” he said loudly. “Coach Flores was called away on a family emergency. I'll be subbing in for her until she gets back.”

Olivia, one of my teammates, whispered into my ear. “But isn't he the boys' coach?”

“Yes, but the boys lost on Saturday, so their season is over,” I whispered back.

“You!” Coach Valentine yelled, pointing right at me. “Do you have something to say?”

I felt my face turn red. “No, sorry,” I mumbled.

“No, sorry, what?” he asked.

“No, sorry, very sorry?” I was totally confused.

“It's ‘No, sorry, Coach!' ” he said. “You will always
address me as ‘Coach.' All of you. Understood?”

I looked around at my teammates' faces. The expressions were a mixture of horror and fear. Everyone yelled, “Yes, Coach!”

Anna came running onto the field, panting. “Sorry I'm late,” she started, then looked up at Coach Valentine, surprised. “What's going—”

Coach Valentine blew into his whistle. “Drop and give me twenty push-ups, all of you! When you're done, you'll run five laps around the field. If anyone shows up late, the entire team is punished. Got it?”

Yikes! I quickly hit the ground, scared not to do what he said. Once, we had shared a practice with the boys' team. Coach Valentine had seemed tough, but not this tough. Maybe because Coach Flores had been there to balance him out.

Jessi was on my side. She checked to make sure Coach Valentine wasn't looking before quickly whispering to me: “I hope Coach Flores is okay!”

“Yeah, and I hope she gets back soon!” I whispered back as I finished my push-ups. We jumped to our feet and started our laps. Usually when doing laps we would chat and joke around, but today everyone ran in silence, afraid to speak. While we were running, Coach Valentine set up cones around the field.

As we finished our laps, we lined up in front of Coach Valentine.

He blew his whistle again. “We're going to be doing a passing/receiving exercise.” He explained.

Grace raised her hand.

“What is it?” he barked at her.

“Today is my day to run some drills,” she said. “I have something already planned. It's a drill that will work on receiving, turning, dribbling, and shooting.”

I heard a few of the girls gasp at Grace's courage.

“What do you mean it's your day to run the drills?” Coach Valentine asked her.

“Devin and I are the team captains,” Grace explained. “Coach Flores lets us each run one practice per week.”

“And who is Devin?” Coach Valentine wondered.

I stepped forward. “Me, Coach.”

“Listen up, all of you,” he said. “That may have been the way Coach Flores ran practice, but it's not the way I do things. When Coach Flores gets back, you can run all the drills you want. But for now I'm in charge of what we do. Understood?”

Grace and I both nodded. I felt like I was in boot camp instead of at soccer practice.

“Yes, Coach!” I said. I had to stop myself from saluting.

Coach quickly organized some of us into the spaces between the cones, and others into the middle of the field. The players in the middle would pass to the players between the cones, with Coach calling out variations along the way. If there had been some plan to not pass me the ball, it didn't happen. No one would try anything out
of the ordinary that would put them under the scrutiny of Coach Valentine!

I had to admit, it was a pretty good drill, and it helped a lot with our passing and receiving techniques. But the usual joking around was gone. Everyone looked grim-faced and serious, more like prisoners than middle school soccer players.

“Cheer up, girls. You're not at a funeral!” Coach yelled. “I know I tell my players to kill it on the field, but it's only a figure of speech.”

He then started laughing loudly at his own joke. We all looked around at one another with shocked faces. Coach Valentine, laughing?

But then, just as quickly as he'd started laughing, he stopped. “Count off for scrimmage!” he barked after tooting his whistle to signify the drill was over.

We quickly counted off ones and twos and divided ourselves on the field. I was on the same team as Grace. Maybe, just maybe, she was too mad at Coach Valentine to still be mad at me. I gave her a small smile to test the waters. But she didn't smile back before quickly looking away. I wasn't surprised. And now there was no Coach Flores to turn to. I certainly wasn't going to tell Coach Valentine about it!

Finally, practice was over. “Nice hustle,” Coach Valentine said. “I can see why you girls made the play-offs.”

I looked at Jessi, her mouth forming a surprised
O
. I guessed Coach Valentine could be nice, after all.

“I'll
see you all here for practice tomorrow—on time,” he added threateningly.

“But, Coach,” Frida said, a note of urgency in her voice. “We weren't supposed to have practice on Tuesday. I have my acting class.”

“And I have to meet with my party planner!” Zoe moaned.

“Acting classes? Party planners?” Coach Valentine asked in disbelief. “Do the rest of you have plans to go skipping through a field of daisies?” He started laughing loudly at his own joke again. Emma stood next to me, and I could hear her choking back a giggle.

But once again his attitude quickly changed. “Do I need to remind you that you are in the play-offs?” Coach Valentine roared as soon as he stopped laughing. “You should be eating, breathing, and sleeping nothing but soccer! I'll see you all tomorrow. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. Emma nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. “Yes, Coach!” she said, and then everyone else joined in, me included.

The sooner Coach Flores got back, the better!

“Please, please tell me you have good news for me,” I pleaded as I draped my bag around the cafeteria chair before sitting down.

Coach Flores still hadn't been back on Tuesday, but I had all of my fingers crossed that she'd be back in time for today's practice.