We fell asleep with the whole galaxy above us, and Jessiâs soft snoring as a sound track.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wishing didnât work. Things werenât getting any better for the Kangaroos. In the locker room before our home game against the Newton Tigers that very next Monday, Mirabelle gave her version of a pep talk.
âYou guys stink!â she yelled. âGet it together this game. You got to want to win! Got it?â she said threateningly. Some captain. What was she going to do, beat us all up if we lost? Jessi slammed her locker shut loudly and shot Mirabelle a glance that could have melted an ice cube. Mirabelle took the hint and shut up before stalking out of the locker room.
The trouble we were having off the field spilled onto it. There was no sense of teamwork. At the game only the seventh graders participated in the sock swap, while Mirabelle glowered in anger. Coach Flores started all the eighth graders again, filling in with the seventh gradersas needed. Once again the strategy didnât work.
Zoe still hadnât gotten over her soccer stage fright, and Frida hardly paid any attention to the game at all. As a Tiger came in with a low, fast kick to the side of the goal, Frida stood to the side, her eyes closed while her lips were moving. What was she doing? Not watching the game, obviously. The ball flew in without our goalie even noticing.
Mirabelleâs screams could be heard across the entire field. âFrida, pay attention!â she hollered, her face turning red with anger.
Emma had a good run going with the ball, but once again tripped and went splat on the field, leaving the ball wide open for an interception. Grace and Anjali, two of the eighth graders, played a great game. Graceâs quiet intensity was an asset on the field. For the seventh grade, Jessi, Brianna, Sarah, and Anna were solid, good players, and I tried my best. But we just werenât connecting. Once again we couldnât overcome the chaos. The game was a total disaster. The Kentville Kangaroos were now 0â2 to start the season.
âWhat were you doing out there?â Mirabelle asked Frida after the game, exasperated.
âI was practicing my Academy Awards acceptance speech,â Frida said defiantly. She wasnât afraid of Mirabelle. âIt seemed like a better way to spend my time.â
Mirabelle rolled her eyes. âUseless,â she muttered under her breath. There was nothing she could do. We werestuck with Frida as goalie. Nobody wanted the job, and since Frida didnât even want to play, she didnât care what position she was in.
Mirabelle turned her intense gaze on me. âDevin, we captains need to talk.â She stalked off to the side of the field. Not knowing what else to do, I followed her.
âWe canât afford to keep losing,â Mirabelle told me. âWeâre not going to make the end-of-season tournament like this,â she continued. âI want us to put on a good showing, especially for the Pinewood game.â
âI heard you had some friends on the Pinewood team,â I said innocently.
Mirabelle stared at me. âJessi tell you that?â
I nodded. Oops. I hoped I hadnât stirred something up.
She glared at me. âDonât listen to everything Jessi says. But it is true, I do have some friends at Pinewood, and I have to make a good impression at that game. Devin, you want to win too, right?â Mirabelle stared at me intensely.
âOf course I want to win,â I replied. But you need strategy to win, I wanted to add. And as far as strategy went, we had none.
âGood. Itâs obvious Coach doesnât care much about making the team better, so as captains itâs our responsibility.â Mirabelle had a look on her face that would stop a rampaging bull in its steps.
âI know,â I said. Mirabelle definitely wasnât my favorite person, but I had to agree with her. âI donât get
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wishing didnât work. Things werenât getting any better for the Kangaroos. In the locker room before our home game against the Newton Tigers that very next Monday, Mirabelle gave her version of a pep talk.
âYou guys stink!â she yelled. âGet it together this game. You got to want to win! Got it?â she said threateningly. Some captain. What was she going to do, beat us all up if we lost? Jessi slammed her locker shut loudly and shot Mirabelle a glance that could have melted an ice cube. Mirabelle took the hint and shut up before stalking out of the locker room.
The trouble we were having off the field spilled onto it. There was no sense of teamwork. At the game only the seventh graders participated in the sock swap, while Mirabelle glowered in anger. Coach Flores started all the eighth graders again, filling in with the seventh gradersas needed. Once again the strategy didnât work.
Zoe still hadnât gotten over her soccer stage fright, and Frida hardly paid any attention to the game at all. As a Tiger came in with a low, fast kick to the side of the goal, Frida stood to the side, her eyes closed while her lips were moving. What was she doing? Not watching the game, obviously. The ball flew in without our goalie even noticing.
Mirabelleâs screams could be heard across the entire field. âFrida, pay attention!â she hollered, her face turning red with anger.
Emma had a good run going with the ball, but once again tripped and went splat on the field, leaving the ball wide open for an interception. Grace and Anjali, two of the eighth graders, played a great game. Graceâs quiet intensity was an asset on the field. For the seventh grade, Jessi, Brianna, Sarah, and Anna were solid, good players, and I tried my best. But we just werenât connecting. Once again we couldnât overcome the chaos. The game was a total disaster. The Kentville Kangaroos were now 0â2 to start the season.
âWhat were you doing out there?â Mirabelle asked Frida after the game, exasperated.
âI was practicing my Academy Awards acceptance speech,â Frida said defiantly. She wasnât afraid of Mirabelle. âIt seemed like a better way to spend my time.â
Mirabelle rolled her eyes. âUseless,â she muttered under her breath. There was nothing she could do. We werestuck with Frida as goalie. Nobody wanted the job, and since Frida didnât even want to play, she didnât care what position she was in.
Mirabelle turned her intense gaze on me. âDevin, we captains need to talk.â She stalked off to the side of the field. Not knowing what else to do, I followed her.
âWe canât afford to keep losing,â Mirabelle told me. âWeâre not going to make the end-of-season tournament like this,â she continued. âI want us to put on a good showing, especially for the Pinewood game.â
âI heard you had some friends on the Pinewood team,â I said innocently.
Mirabelle stared at me. âJessi tell you that?â
I nodded. Oops. I hoped I hadnât stirred something up.
She glared at me. âDonât listen to everything Jessi says. But it is true, I do have some friends at Pinewood, and I have to make a good impression at that game. Devin, you want to win too, right?â Mirabelle stared at me intensely.
âOf course I want to win,â I replied. But you need strategy to win, I wanted to add. And as far as strategy went, we had none.
âGood. Itâs obvious Coach doesnât care much about making the team better, so as captains itâs our responsibility.â Mirabelle had a look on her face that would stop a rampaging bull in its steps.
âI know,â I said. Mirabelle definitely wasnât my favorite person, but I had to agree with her. âI donât get
Similar Books
