not there.”
“So tell ’em.”
“I don’t get this.” Lucy stared hard at J.J. “You never care about people teasing you.”
“I care about ’em teasin’ you.”
His voice shot high on the “you,” and his face went the color of a tomato, and his Adam’s apple bobbed three times. He backed away, shaking his head, though Lucy knew better than to say anything else anyway.
“Don’t come,” he said, and slipped away through a clump of boys.
“Hey!” said that voice Lucy was sure she’d be hearing in her sleep.
“I gotta go!” Lucy called to her.
Then she ran to the restroom and slipped past two girls redoing their French braids in the mirrors and hid in a stall, staying there long after they finished whispering about how weird she was acting and left. She was the one who was weird? What about Rianna, who was behaving like she was the boss of her when Lucy couldn’t even remember her last name? What about J.J., who must have just had a personality transplant or something? How was she supposed to act when everybody else was going crazy?
She didn’t know, so she stayed in the stall until lunch time was over.
Coach Neely divided them into two teams that afternoon and had them play a practice game. Lucy said a major prayer of thanks that Rianna was her team’s goalie so she didn’t have to deal with her too much. At least when she was playing soccer, Rianna didn’t talk about anything else. The rest of the team, on the other hand . . .
Maybe it was the heat that made everybody cranky, but Lucy heard everything from Sarah telling Waverly she wanted to stuff the ball up Rianna’s nose, to Patricia muttering that flushing her down the toilet would be better. Coach Neely didn’t say anything, at least not about Rianna. She had plenty to say about how they were all talented individual athletes, but they needed to learn to play as a team.
Lucy knew how to play as a team. But maybe this wasn’t the team she was supposed to be on.
7
As soon as camp was over for the day, Lucy bolted for the car, only to slow down as she got closer and saw Dusty and the other girls piling in. They probably weren’t going to talk to her after she had ditched them at lunch. And what was she supposed to say to them?
J.J. hadn’t told her what to do about that.
With a sigh that came all the way from her shoelaces, Lucy made her way to Carla Rosa’s SUV. Dusty was the only one who hadn’t gotten in, and she wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“About what?” Lucy said.
“You know — that your coach is making you eat with your team.”
As much as she hated long hugs, Lucy was glad Dusty was still holding onto her so she couldn’t see her eyes bugging out.
“We understand,” Dusty said.
Veronica poked her head out the window. “We know we’re your real friends.”
Carla Rosa joined her, cheeks nearly purple from the heat. “Guess what, though? You didn’t eat with them either. How come you didn’t eat?”
“Get in, girls,” Carla’s mom said from the driver’s seat. “Lucy, you didn’t have lunch today?”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Lucy said. And that was the truth. This whole thing was taking away her appetite.
It came back, though, after a ride back to Los Suenos with friend-voices, voices that weren’t Rianna’s. The cheesy aroma of Inez’s chili rellenos when she walked in the back door helped too. And knowing she was going to eat with Dad sealed it: she was starving for food and for the chance to tell him everything that was happening so he could help her sort it out. He was very cool that way, even if he’d never kicked a soccer ball in his life.
But when she rode the yellow Navajo rug to the kitchen after her shower, Mr. Auggy was at the table, eyeing the bubbling rellenos . Normally that would have made the evening perfect, but he had a book on the table next to him that said something on the cover about improving reading skills.
“Now
“So tell ’em.”
“I don’t get this.” Lucy stared hard at J.J. “You never care about people teasing you.”
“I care about ’em teasin’ you.”
His voice shot high on the “you,” and his face went the color of a tomato, and his Adam’s apple bobbed three times. He backed away, shaking his head, though Lucy knew better than to say anything else anyway.
“Don’t come,” he said, and slipped away through a clump of boys.
“Hey!” said that voice Lucy was sure she’d be hearing in her sleep.
“I gotta go!” Lucy called to her.
Then she ran to the restroom and slipped past two girls redoing their French braids in the mirrors and hid in a stall, staying there long after they finished whispering about how weird she was acting and left. She was the one who was weird? What about Rianna, who was behaving like she was the boss of her when Lucy couldn’t even remember her last name? What about J.J., who must have just had a personality transplant or something? How was she supposed to act when everybody else was going crazy?
She didn’t know, so she stayed in the stall until lunch time was over.
Coach Neely divided them into two teams that afternoon and had them play a practice game. Lucy said a major prayer of thanks that Rianna was her team’s goalie so she didn’t have to deal with her too much. At least when she was playing soccer, Rianna didn’t talk about anything else. The rest of the team, on the other hand . . .
Maybe it was the heat that made everybody cranky, but Lucy heard everything from Sarah telling Waverly she wanted to stuff the ball up Rianna’s nose, to Patricia muttering that flushing her down the toilet would be better. Coach Neely didn’t say anything, at least not about Rianna. She had plenty to say about how they were all talented individual athletes, but they needed to learn to play as a team.
Lucy knew how to play as a team. But maybe this wasn’t the team she was supposed to be on.
7
As soon as camp was over for the day, Lucy bolted for the car, only to slow down as she got closer and saw Dusty and the other girls piling in. They probably weren’t going to talk to her after she had ditched them at lunch. And what was she supposed to say to them?
J.J. hadn’t told her what to do about that.
With a sigh that came all the way from her shoelaces, Lucy made her way to Carla Rosa’s SUV. Dusty was the only one who hadn’t gotten in, and she wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“About what?” Lucy said.
“You know — that your coach is making you eat with your team.”
As much as she hated long hugs, Lucy was glad Dusty was still holding onto her so she couldn’t see her eyes bugging out.
“We understand,” Dusty said.
Veronica poked her head out the window. “We know we’re your real friends.”
Carla Rosa joined her, cheeks nearly purple from the heat. “Guess what, though? You didn’t eat with them either. How come you didn’t eat?”
“Get in, girls,” Carla’s mom said from the driver’s seat. “Lucy, you didn’t have lunch today?”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Lucy said. And that was the truth. This whole thing was taking away her appetite.
It came back, though, after a ride back to Los Suenos with friend-voices, voices that weren’t Rianna’s. The cheesy aroma of Inez’s chili rellenos when she walked in the back door helped too. And knowing she was going to eat with Dad sealed it: she was starving for food and for the chance to tell him everything that was happening so he could help her sort it out. He was very cool that way, even if he’d never kicked a soccer ball in his life.
But when she rode the yellow Navajo rug to the kitchen after her shower, Mr. Auggy was at the table, eyeing the bubbling rellenos . Normally that would have made the evening perfect, but he had a book on the table next to him that said something on the cover about improving reading skills.
“Now
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