came straight to Lucy, and she scanned the circle to see who hadn’t had a chance yet. A Hispanic girl with two braids looked back at her hopefully.
“To you-with-the-braids,” Lucy said, and lobbed the ball her way.
Coach Neely did say to use different kinds of passes.
“Hold your foot up, Bella!” Coach Neely called to her.
Bella appeared to be ready — until another figure was suddenly there between her and the ball. Rianna headed it, bounced it off of her thigh, and planted it on the ground. Coach Neely blew the whistle.
“You’re out, Rianna,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because I just blew the whistle and you have the ball.”
Across the circle, Lucy saw Sarah put her hand over her mouth. Next to her, she heard Patricia mutter, “Serves you right.”
Lucy waited for Rianna to pitch a fit. As visions of the girl who got thrown out of camp went through her mind, she almost wished she would.
But Rianna shrugged and backed out of the circle. The second Coach Neely gave the ball to Bella, Rianna bent forward, hands on her knees, ponytail dangling over her shoulder, mouth going.
She pointed at Waverly. “Pass it to her!”
Bella obeyed, but this time, Waverly was ready and passed it on first touch. These girls were good.
But obviously not good enough for Rianna, who paced around the circle like somebody’s embarrassing father, yelling —
“That was a lazy pass!”
“Who were you passing to? You were way off!”
“Hit it in the middle, not the top!”
When Coach Neely finally blew the whistle, Kayla looked grateful that she had the ball and squinted her already tiny eyes at Rianna as she left the circle. Sarah shot up her hand.
“Question?” Coach Neely said.
“Yeah.” Sarah stuck her gaze on Rianna. “Who’s the coach?”
“I am,” Coach Neely said. “So why don’t you let me deal with it?”
“Then, like, do it,” Patricia muttered.
Lucy nodded at her. One more thing to add to that Unspoken Rules List: Let the coach handle everything. Including girls that think they run the whole world.
At lunchtime, Lucy snatched up her backpack and walked, stiff-legged-fast, toward the Dreams’ table. She couldn’t get away from Rianna’s voice fast enough. She was sure it was taking over her brain, so when she heard it behind her calling, “Hey — Freckle Girl,” she looked over her shoulder to assure herself Rianna wasn’t really there.
Big mistake.
“Yeah — you,” Rianna said.
She reached Lucy in two more long-legged leaps and grabbed onto Lucy’s backpack like she knew she wanted to take the nearest escape route. She was smart, this girl.
“Eat lunch with me,” Rianna said close to Lucy’s ear.
“I usually eat with — ”
“Forget them.”
Rianna jerked her head toward the rest of the Select Team who were already gathered at a table, heads almost touching as they chattered. Lucy could guess the topic.
“I just want to talk to you, ” Rianna said.
“I promised my — ”
“No, seriously.” Rianna got her face so close, Lucy could feel her hot breath. “We have to talk about this team. Over there.” She pointed to one of the cottonwood trees that bordered the soccer park and strode off toward it.
Lucy didn’t follow her. Rianna might think she was the boss of the team, but she wasn’t the boss of Lucy. She whipped around to head for her friends and almost plowed into J.J.
“Man, am I glad to see you,” she said. “You would not believe what’s going on. Come on — we’ll talk at the table.”
“I already told ’em you weren’t comin’.”
Lucy stopped, jaw unhinging. “Why?”
“What I told you.”
“I don’t care if the team makes fun of me,” Lucy said. She lowered her voice to a hiss and nodded toward the tree, where Rianna was running off two seven-year-olds. “Especially her.”
“Eat with your team,” J.J. said.
“I don’t want to. I want to be with you guys.” Her words grew thick. “My team doesn’t even know I’m
“To you-with-the-braids,” Lucy said, and lobbed the ball her way.
Coach Neely did say to use different kinds of passes.
“Hold your foot up, Bella!” Coach Neely called to her.
Bella appeared to be ready — until another figure was suddenly there between her and the ball. Rianna headed it, bounced it off of her thigh, and planted it on the ground. Coach Neely blew the whistle.
“You’re out, Rianna,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because I just blew the whistle and you have the ball.”
Across the circle, Lucy saw Sarah put her hand over her mouth. Next to her, she heard Patricia mutter, “Serves you right.”
Lucy waited for Rianna to pitch a fit. As visions of the girl who got thrown out of camp went through her mind, she almost wished she would.
But Rianna shrugged and backed out of the circle. The second Coach Neely gave the ball to Bella, Rianna bent forward, hands on her knees, ponytail dangling over her shoulder, mouth going.
She pointed at Waverly. “Pass it to her!”
Bella obeyed, but this time, Waverly was ready and passed it on first touch. These girls were good.
But obviously not good enough for Rianna, who paced around the circle like somebody’s embarrassing father, yelling —
“That was a lazy pass!”
“Who were you passing to? You were way off!”
“Hit it in the middle, not the top!”
When Coach Neely finally blew the whistle, Kayla looked grateful that she had the ball and squinted her already tiny eyes at Rianna as she left the circle. Sarah shot up her hand.
“Question?” Coach Neely said.
“Yeah.” Sarah stuck her gaze on Rianna. “Who’s the coach?”
“I am,” Coach Neely said. “So why don’t you let me deal with it?”
“Then, like, do it,” Patricia muttered.
Lucy nodded at her. One more thing to add to that Unspoken Rules List: Let the coach handle everything. Including girls that think they run the whole world.
At lunchtime, Lucy snatched up her backpack and walked, stiff-legged-fast, toward the Dreams’ table. She couldn’t get away from Rianna’s voice fast enough. She was sure it was taking over her brain, so when she heard it behind her calling, “Hey — Freckle Girl,” she looked over her shoulder to assure herself Rianna wasn’t really there.
Big mistake.
“Yeah — you,” Rianna said.
She reached Lucy in two more long-legged leaps and grabbed onto Lucy’s backpack like she knew she wanted to take the nearest escape route. She was smart, this girl.
“Eat lunch with me,” Rianna said close to Lucy’s ear.
“I usually eat with — ”
“Forget them.”
Rianna jerked her head toward the rest of the Select Team who were already gathered at a table, heads almost touching as they chattered. Lucy could guess the topic.
“I just want to talk to you, ” Rianna said.
“I promised my — ”
“No, seriously.” Rianna got her face so close, Lucy could feel her hot breath. “We have to talk about this team. Over there.” She pointed to one of the cottonwood trees that bordered the soccer park and strode off toward it.
Lucy didn’t follow her. Rianna might think she was the boss of the team, but she wasn’t the boss of Lucy. She whipped around to head for her friends and almost plowed into J.J.
“Man, am I glad to see you,” she said. “You would not believe what’s going on. Come on — we’ll talk at the table.”
“I already told ’em you weren’t comin’.”
Lucy stopped, jaw unhinging. “Why?”
“What I told you.”
“I don’t care if the team makes fun of me,” Lucy said. She lowered her voice to a hiss and nodded toward the tree, where Rianna was running off two seven-year-olds. “Especially her.”
“Eat with your team,” J.J. said.
“I don’t want to. I want to be with you guys.” Her words grew thick. “My team doesn’t even know I’m
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