Playing With the Boys (18 page)

“You and I,” Benji reminded her. “We’re a team tonight. It’s us against everyone, okay?”

Lucy nodded fiercely. “Yeah. Us against everyone,” she agreed.

“Hands in,” Ryan ordered the team. Everyone put a hand in the center. Lucy was last to reach in. Ryan put a hand on top of hers. She felt tingles through her entire body. “Together on three,” he instructed. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”

“TOGETHER!” the team yelled.

Ryan and Tank, the team captains, took the field for the coin toss. Tank called heads. It was tails. Curtis decided to take the ball first, which meant Lucy would kick off. She tried not to panic, but she just wanted to scream, “Oh my God, am I really supposed to be doing this?” What if she blew it? What if she topped it? Or squibbed it off the side of her foot? Or worse? What was worse? She didn’t even know yet, but she was sure the possibilities were endless.

She looked up into the stands where the soccer girls were jumping up and down so excitedly that the bleachers seemed to be shaking in anticipation of what she was going to do. Lucy wished circumstances were different and that her dad was here to see her.

At least she knew her mom was with her—in her heart.

Coach Offredi grabbed her shoulders. “Now listen to me, kid,” he said. Lucy inhaled quickly. That was what her dad called her. “This is what you wanted, your chance to prove something. So you go out there and get it done. I wanna see that ball land on their twenty—or better yet, their fifteen.You put ’em as far back as they can be. Go, kid, go!” He hit Lucy on the back too hard. The momentum practically catapulted her onto the field.

She jogged out with the kickoff coverage unit—the craziest guys on Special Teams. She hadn’t known it before but Special Teams incorporated all the different kicking teams: the kickoff unit, the kick receiver unit, the punting unit, the PAT unit—basically, there were a lot of units. And these were the guys with the least field time but the most to prove. It was all or nothing for them, and they were prepared to go all out. The rule was that no one could run past the thirty-yard line until the ball was kicked, but the Beachwood team didn’t like to start running from a dead stop as soon as the kicker hit the ball . . . which was why they lined up on their own fifteen-yard line. This was the play Coach Offredi called Rolling Thunder.

“I wanna hear a storm coming!” he yelled from the sidelines. “A storm!”

Lucy wondered if he’d settle for a drizzle. She set the ball on the tee at the thirty-yard line and backed up five yards to get a running start as well. If a person didn’t know better, they’d think she looked like any other player out there—like she belonged.

Coach Offredi called to her, “Let’s do it now. Go deep with this!” Lucy stood in the center of the field with five guys lined up to her right and five guys lined up to her left.They spread out behind her, spanning the width of the field. Lucy raised her arm. She was ready . . . or as ready as she was ever going to be.

The whistle blew. Lucy dropped her arm to signal the guys. They started running, gaining speed and momentum. Lucy popped forward, joining them, and BAM! She kicked the ball deep into Curtis’s territory. Curtis’s wide receiver gathered in the high, end-over-end kick on his own ten-yard line—even further than Coach Offredi had hoped. Lucy trailed the play, praying the Curtis return man didn’t make it through the wedge of Beachwood defenders. Tank, leading the charge, brought the ball carrier down, hard, at the Curtis twenty-two-yard line.

On the sidelines, Beachwood cheered. Lucy jogged to the bench.

“Nice kick,” Coach Offredi yelled from the sidelines. “Now let’s keep it going, let’s keep it going! We’re in this now. Defense, make sure we play hard and fast. Smash ’em to bits! Tank, I wanna see a sack! Gimme a sack!”

On the initial series of plays, Beachwood’s defense was strong. Tank applied pressure on Curtis’s quarterback, who was young and skittish. After two hurried incomplete passes and being forced out of bounds after a gain of only five yards on the third down, Curtis was forced to punt to Beachwood.

On the sidelines, Lucy cheered as Sascha, Beachwood’s punt retriever, took the kick on the Beachwood thirty and sidestepped an onrushing Curtis defender to find an open hole. He juked, darting one way and then quickly back the other way, and broke away down the right sideline, advancing an impressive thirty yards to the Curtis forty, before being knocked out of bounds. The Beachwood bench erupted in cheers, while on the field, the guys pounded Sascha’s helmet excitedly. The band played and the cheerleaders bounced up and down as if their lives depended on it.

With every pass and every gained yard for Beachwood, Lucy’s nervous energy increased as a potential field goal or PAT attempt loomed even larger. Her casual foot tap had morphed into her entire leg shaking uncontrollably.

She kept telling herself,
I can do this. I can
do
this.
But could she? Now? When it counted most?

Ryan threw a perfect spiral pass to Kevin on a down-and-out pattern. Kevin caught it almost effortlessly in the corner of Curtis’s end zone.TOUCHDOWN! Lucy knew what that meant. She gulped.
Her
turn.

“PAT unit,” Coach Offredi ordered. “We’re goin’ for one.” He grabbed Lucy by the shoulders. “This is all you, kid. Let’s go.”

Thanks, CW,
Lucy thought
. Way to take off the pressure.
But the truth was, no one could take off the pressure. This
was
all her. She glanced down the field at the goalpost. The space between the uprights looked so much narrower than it had seemed in practice. She was so nervous that not even looking at Benji helped.

The PAT unit ran onto the field, settling at the three-yard line. Lucy ran out behind Benji, knowing they each had a job to do. Caleb would snap the ball back seven yards, where Benji was waiting at the ten. Then all she’d have to do was kick.

Lucy stepped off her paces. So much adrenaline was pumping through her, she felt as though she could explode. Caleb and the line moved into position, looking for the signal from Benji. The crowd quieted down. Lucy waited, holding her breath. Benji put his hands out in front of his body, in a position to catch the ball. The flash of Benji’s hands signaled Caleb to snap the ball back, straight into Benji’s grasp. This time, Benji caught it perfectly, and in one smooth motion he brought the tip of the football to the ground. He deftly spun the laces away from Lucy’s foot, a split second before Lucy nailed it. BAM!

It sailed up, up, and directly between the goalposts. They’d done it! Hell,
she’d
done it! She’d actually kicked a PAT! The score was 7-0! The Beachwood section of the bleachers roared.

As Lucy jogged back over onto the sidelines, she could feel the hands of a few of her teammates patting her on the back and hitting her helmet.

In the bleachers, the soccer girls chanted, “Lu-cy! Lu-cy! Lu-cy!”

Regan cheered from the sidelines. “Nice, Luce!”

Lucy smiled broadly. She felt as if her body could barely contain her happiness.

Taking a seat on the bench, she took off her helmet and shook out her hair. Inside, her helmet was damp with sweat. This would definitely qualify as a bad hair day, but she didn’t care, because she had done it. She had scored! A hand gripped her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. She looked up to see Coach Offredi. He wasn’t even looking at her, just giving that small gesture of wordless praise. Happily, she exhaled. Had she proven herself? Was he actually proud of her?

The rest of the game felt like a giant blur, like a dream she didn’t want to end. Leading 7-0 at the half, Beachwood ran for two more touchdowns in the third quarter. Lucy nailed both PAT attempts, and Beachwood held off a strong fourth-quarter rally by Curtis to win 21-13.

As the team rushed into the locker room, the excitement in the air was palpable.

“Way to get it done tonight.” Coach Offredi grinned. Even his mustache looked happier. “You should all be proud.”

Lucy lingered in the doorway. After all, it was the boys’ locker room.

Ryan pushed her in. “Malone, you’re on the team. Get in here. No one’s naked.” He placed a hand on her back, ushering her in. Benji noticed.

A shirtless Tank howled in the background, pleased with himself. “Well, almost no one.” Ryan smiled, his hand resting on the small of her back. “You did great tonight.” Lucy prayed his hand would linger there for a few more seconds.

Coach Offredi clapped his hands loudly and Ryan moved to take a seat on the bench. “Great passing game, great defense—that was a hell of an effort out there tonight, men.”

Lucy grimaced.
Men?

Coach Offredi
ahem
ed and corrected himself. “I mean, people.” A small smile crept across Lucy’s face.

The coach grabbed a football off the ground, from next to his feet. The guys cheered. Lucy glanced around anxiously, not knowing what to expect.

“And the MVP ball goes to . . .” Coach Offredi paused dramatically. The room settled down and grew quiet. “Who else?” He tossed the ball to Ryan, who caught it in his lap. He held it up in celebration.

“To our season,” Ryan said. “To victory.” The entire team, including Lucy, cheered wildly.

twelve

The hot water felt like liquid heaven as it rushed over Lucy’s entire body. Wearing flip-flops and a bikini (no way she was getting naked), she scrubbed all the sweat, dirt, and anxiety off her. The girls’ locker room shower wasn’t as great as the one at home—which was marble, and had a rain nozzle—but it felt just as good. Better, in fact. She turned off the faucet and grabbed the towel she’d thankfully remembered to pack in her athletic bag. Wrapping herself in it, she padded out toward the lockers, leaving a trail of wet, soapy footprints behind her.

The cheerleaders were mid-transformation from their uniforms into party attire. As soon as they saw Lucy, they applauded. Lucy beamed, surprised. Regan turned and smiled.

“You were seriously amazing tonight,” she gushed. “Did you notice how Ryan was cheering you on?”

He was?
Lucy beamed.

“Seriously,” she continued. “You kicked farther than any of the boys ever did.”

“Yeah,” a beautiful brunette agreed. “And you looked like one of them, too.” Lucy stared at the girl, confused at this out-of-the-blue insult.

“Um . . .” Lucy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know this girl.

Regan realized, jumping in. “Oh, Lucy.This is Kendall. She’s having the party tonight.” Regan quickly turned to Kendall, worried. “I invited Lucy. That’s okay, right? I mean, technically she’s part of the football team—”

Kendall shrugged as if she could care less. “Whatever.” Regan forced a polite smile to Lucy, who was standing in front of all these new girls feeling suddenly self-conscious. She felt as though Kendall could see right through her.

“I’m just going to—um—put some clothes on,” Lucy said hurriedly, as she padded on wet feet to her locker. Rifling through her athletic bag, she pulled out a pair of jeans and a long shirt with an empire waist to wear over them. She liked the dress/jeans combo. In fact, she’d seen Regan sport it a few times, so it must have been cool enough for Malibu.

Regan followed her over. “Sorry about that. Kendall can be a little intimidating to new people,” she explained. “But she’s really great and super popular. If you’re friends with her, your life is infinitely easier at this school.”

Lucy nodded agreeably. “Okay.”

“So you’re still gonna come, right?” Regan pressed. “To the party?”

“Let’s go, bitches,” Kendall called. “Train’s rolling out.”

Lucy was surprised. First,
bitches
? Second, was Kendall actually talking to her?

“She calls everyone that,” Regan explained. “It’s a term of endearment.”

I bet,
Lucy thought.

“Hurry up,” Regan urged. “Let’s go.” Lucy grabbed her stuff, excitedly—and then she suddenly remembered something. Pickle had said she and the girls wanted to celebrate after the game too. She’d become so wrapped up with the cheerleaders’ attention, she’d totally forgotten. Lucy tried to stay calm, but this was obviously a crisis situation. It was one step away from requiring canned goods, a flashlight, and a transistor radio. Lucy told herself to speak.

“Um . . . I just . . . I actually was supposed to . . . actually, I forgot. . . .”
Okay, get ahold of yourself,
she thought. “Could I just finish getting ready really quick and meet you at your car?”

Annoyed, Kendall called out, “Regan, you’re taking too long. I’m getting a ride from Ryan. Just meet me there.”