Molly's Promise (4 page)

A chorus of laughter, sighs and coos came from the girls all at once.

Molly's face burned. Why had she thought she could sing in the competition? Devon was not only the best-looking boy in the school but also talented at everything. He could walk onstage with his hands in his pockets and say his name and he'd win the competition. Someone said, “Mica can sing. Anyone know if she's entering?”

“Probably. She takes singing lessons,” said the girl with the eye makeup.

Molly didn't want to hear any more. She swiveled around, jumped off the side of the bleachers and sped out of the gym. In the hall she ran into Paige and her friends.

“What does it say? What does it say?” Dede asked, flapping her hands hysterically.

Fi held up a piece of paper and squealed. “It says,
Write the winner's name here
. Paige Nelson!”

Paige grabbed the form. “Settle down, girls. It's just the registration. You're putting too much pressure on me.”

Molly didn't have a chance to slip away without being noticed. She sat on a bench outside the gym doors.

“Hi,” Molly said quietly to Nell when their eyes met.

“You should come down to the multipurpose room. Paige is going to practice. I'm her stage manager,” Nell said. “Did I tell you that already?”

“Yeah, you did,” Molly said. “I'm going to the soccer game.”

“It's pouring,” Nell said.

“I've got an umbrella,” Molly said. She thought getting drenched at a soccer game would be more fun than watching Paige parade around on the stage.

Paige hollered from down the hall. “Nell, what are you doing, girl?”

“Gotta go,” Nell said and ran to catch up with the others.

“Yeah, of course you gotta go,” Molly said. She sat on the bench and looked down the hall toward the office. Maybe she should just forget the registration. The soccer team interrupted her thoughts as the players spewed out of the gym.

“We are gonna beat those suckers,” Danny shouted, high-fiving the other boys.

The only team that had a chance of beating the Riverside Strikers this year was the Central Avenue Cougars. They were only two points behind Riverside in the standings. With two games left in the regular soccer season, the boys could clinch the title with a win this afternoon. A loss would give Central Avenue a chance to tie it up.

“We're going to win it,” Murphy said when he saw Molly.

“I know,” Molly said, “but aren't you worried?”

“Do I look worried?” Murphy asked, puffing his chest out.

“Sort of,” she said. His noisy teammates jostled in front of them. “The whole team sounds pretty hyped.”

Murphy had started playing soccer in grade six, five years after most of the other boys. Now that he was the starting goalie, people thought he was the most important player on the team.

“We have to win this afternoon, and everyone's looking for me to play a big game,” he said.

“Ouch,” Molly said. “That kind of pressure must hurt.”

Murphy said, “No worries. All pressure is self-inflicted.” He laughed. “I can handle it.”

The truth was, Murphy loved competition. He even loved the pre-game jitters. He had told Molly after the last game, which was a 3-0 shutout, that tough competition made him nervous but also made him play better. The better the opposing team, the better Murphy played.

Molly loved competition too—as a spectator. The very idea of competing in something herself made her stomach hurt.

After school the rain stopped, and a chilly sun came out and brightened the field. Murphy's mom had brought two chairs and a blanket for her and Molly to share.

Molly's shivering lips slurped hot chocolate from a thermos. “Mmm, thanks,” she said. “This hits the spot.”

Soon a crowd of Riverside fans had lined one side of the field, and Central Avenue fans lined the other. The game got off to a quick start. Eli made a pass that bounced off a Cougar defenseman and went into the net off the goalpost. The crowd erupted. A lucky fluke for the Strikers. The excitement died down as the game turned into a running match—the Riverside boys were chasing the ball, not playing it. After a Cougar defenseman kicked the ball into his own net, the score at half time was 2-0 Strikers.

“Murphy said you might join the girls' soccer team,” Murphy's mom said. “He told me about the race. You beat him by a mile. Way to go, girl.”

“Not quite a mile,” Molly said. “But I don't think I want to play soccer.”

“Really?” she said. “You love soccer.”

“I think I make a better fan than a player.”

They watched without talking for a few minutes.

“What would you like to do?” Celia asked.

Molly pulled the blanket up around her ears. She couldn't bring herself to speak the words that were bubbling up inside.

Celia looked sideways at her and said, “Moll, what do you have stashed away in that head of yours?”

Molly wanted to tell her about the talent competition. She wanted to tell her that she wanted to sing.

“I want to see my mom,” Molly said. “I want to know about her. When I ask Dad, he either gets mad, changes the subject or looks sad. How come?”

“I don't know why he does that,” Celia said and looked back at the game.

The Cougars' fans exploded. The players huddled and high-fived in front of Murphy's net.

“Did you see what happened?” Celia asked.

“No,” Molly said. “I can't believe I missed it.”

Murphy emerged from the crowd, holding the ball. He rolled it to the referee. The score was 2-1.

“Hey, Moll, I'm sorry about your mom,” Celia said. “How about I talk to your dad?”

“Sure, thanks,” Molly said.

“But that's not everything, is it?” she said.

Molly took a deep breath.

Finally the words came out. “There's a talent competition in town,” she said. “I want to enter. But I also don't really want to. I don't want to compete. I just want to sing.”

Once Molly started to talk, she couldn't stop. “Paige is going to dance. A lot of grade eights are entering.” The words flooded out. She told Celia about the competition, her dad and the boys. “I want to sing more than anything.” She stopped for a moment, then added, “Other than seeing my mom.”

Celia's jaw slackened and her eyes opened wide. “Wow, honey,” she said. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I didn't even know you sang.”

“I don't,” Molly said. “I mean, I don't sing to anyone but myself, with my mouth closed. I mean, I don't sing out loud. Except for once, when I sang to Dad.”

Celia bit her lip as if it was she now who didn't know what to say. “He must have been surprised,” she said.

“I think I surprised myself as much as him,” Molly said. “I've listened to my voice in my head, but I didn't know it would feel that good to sing out loud.”

Celia laughed. “Okay, Moll. That's a bit crazy, girl. But I hear you.”

Their conversation ended when the Cougars charged into Murphy's zone. The Striker defensemen were scattered across the field. Molly and Celia threw off their blankets, jumped up and screamed, “Danny! Avtar! Where are you guys?”

The Cougar players passed the ball in front of the net, up the wing and then back across the back line.

Molly clenched her fists. If they scored, the game would be tied.

Murphy's eyes never left the ball. Danny and the other Striker defensemen were losing ground as the play moved closer and closer to Murphy and the net. Molly swallowed the lump in her throat. The Strikers left way too much to Murphy, as far as she was concerned.

“Come on, Danny!” she hollered. “Get with the game.”

A Cougar player passed the ball to his wingman. A tall lanky boy trapped it, took a stride and wound up. Murphy moved to the right in anticipation. The striker kicked with brutal force, sending the ball to Murphy's left. The crowd went silent for a second. Molly watched the ball soar through the air. As it did, Murphy quickly changed his position. The tips of his fingers connected with the ball just inside the goal-post. He curled his hands around the flying rocket and dropped like a stone onto the ground. Both teams charged in front of him and halted a short distance from the pile that was his body and the ball.

Albert appeared next to Molly. They grabbed each other and jumped up and down, screaming, “Murphy, Murphy!”

The few minutes left in the game resulted in another goal for Riverside. The deflated Cougars took no more shots on Murphy. His big save had given the Strikers the confidence they needed to take control of the play.

With the win, the Riverside Strikers were the Valley Cup champions for the first time in fifteen years. Murphy's final, spectacular save had also won him the most valuable player award.

“Wow,” Molly said after the crowd had settled down. “That was way too stressful for me. I don't know how Murphy does it.”

Chapter Seven

“Good morning, Riverside students.” Ms. Clarkson's voice was always particularly cheery on Fridays. “Spring soccer starts in a few weeks. The girls' team is looking for players. It's a good time for anyone who hasn't played before to try out. And we have had a great response to the talent-show registration. But today is your last chance to get a form. They must be returned to the office, with the fee attached, by Monday noon.”

Molly felt inside the pocket of her jacket. The twenty-five dollars her dad had given her was there. She had thought about giving it back to him. After Murphy's last game, she'd decided that competition was okay for Murphy, but not for her. She would have to find another place to sing.

“This morning I want to have a discussion about the talent show,” Mr. Bahli said when the announcements were finished. “Has anyone in this class entered?”

Veronica, a worried-looking girl who sat in the far corner of the room, put up her hand and nodded.

“Veronica?” Mr. Bahli said, looking surprised. “Wonderful! What's your talent?”

“Piano,” Veronica quietly said.

“That's fantastic!” he said, walking down the aisle toward her desk. “Have you performed before?”

“Yes,” she said. “I've been doing piano recitals since I was four years old.”

“Really! Tell us about them.”

“Some are good. Some aren't so good,” she said. “During the Christmas holidays, I went to Toronto to compete for a place in a summer music school. Last week I got an acceptance letter in the mail.”

“Wow! That's so great,” Molly said. “Good for you.”

It was easy to imagine Veronica as a concert pianist. She had delicate features and slender hands, with perfectly groomed oval nails. Veronica looked like the kind of girl whose parents could afford piano lessons.

“So what do we think about competition?” Mr. Bahli asked the rest of the class.

“It's all about winning. Second place is first loser,” Danny said. “Like on Wednesday. The pressure was on, and we kicked the Cougars' butts. We rocked.”

“I don't expect to win the talent competition,” Veronica said, louder than before. “A singer or dancer will win. I need to practice, and the competition will help me with my performances. I just want to play the piano the best I can.”

Molly didn't care about winning. But she wasn't calm like Veronica. When she thought about the competition, the butterflies in her stomach turned into swarms of bumblebees.

“So,” Mr. Bahli said, “everyone has their own reason for competing.”

Now that Molly had heard her voice out loud, she loved the way it sounded. And she loved the way she had felt when her dad was listening. Now all she wanted to do was sing. The competition would give her that chance, just like Veronica said.

At lunchtime, Molly charged out of the classroom alone and ran down the hall to the office. “Can I have a registration form, please?” she asked.

The secretary said, “Sure thing. What are you going to perform in the show, Molly?”