Under Pressure (2 page)

T
he other players surged toward the locker room after Coach Berg's announcement. Elise stood stock-still in a state of shock. The UNC scout! She'd been waiting for this day for—oh, just about forever. It was nothing, really. Just the biggest deal of her entire life! Elise realized she was alone on the field and broke into a trot to catch up with the others.

The steamy locker room in the school was noisy with the banging of metal locker doors and the spray of the showers. Elise absentmindedly started taking off her sweaty practice clothes. She noticed her locker mate, Addie Williams, giving her a strange look, but she didn't think much of it. Her mind was fully on Coach Berg's announcement.

Elise's entire family were Tar Heels—alums for four generations back. Her mother had played women's rugby for the school, and her father had been president of the student body. While her parents had never pushed her, the general feeling around the family dinner table was that it would be a mark of honor if Elise could play soccer for the UNC women's team.

“Um, Elise?” Addie broke up her daydream. Elise shook her head and looked over. Addie was pointing to Elise's feet. “Do you know you just took off your cleats and put them back on again?”

Elise looked down at the neatly laced cleats on her sockless feet and smiled sheepishly. “Ulp. Guess I'm a little distracted.” She sat down on the bench and took the shoes off.

Addie nodded sympathetically. “Were you thinking about the Jacobs visit?” She rummaged in the locker. “It's huge. He's scouting for the freshman spots on the team. And I heard he's offering scholarships too.” She sighed and yanked her T-shirt over her head. “That's the only way I could even think of going—even if I did get a spot.”

Me too
, Elise thought. She couldn't help but notice that Addie's abs looked like they were carved with a razor. How the heck did she get them to look like that?

Elise remained sitting with her elbows on her knees as Addie left and the locker room slowly emptied. Her social-worker parents could never afford the tuition at UNC without help. A soccer scholarship was her best chance at attending the school
and
playing for the team. It was crucial that she impress this scout.

“Hey.” Sophie touched her shoulder.

Elise looked up to see her friend. With her wet hair neatly combed, she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

“You haven't even taken a shower yet, dork,” Sophie grinned. “Come on. Locopops is waiting.”

“Oh, right. I'll just go sweaty.” Elise followed her friend from the locker room and into the fresh spring air. She and Sophie always went to Locopops for ice cream after practice. Today, though, Elise's stomach was in knots. She didn't even feel like eating her favorite Mexican chocolate.

As she and Sophie climbed into Sophie's Honda Civic and pulled out of the school parking lot, Sophie turned up Katy Perry and glanced over at her friend. Elise met her gaze. She could tell that Sophie knew what she was thinking.

“Ryan Jacobs!” they said in unison and burst out in laughter. Sophie rolled her eyes at Elise. “I know, I know. You're freaking out already,” she said, braking for a red light behind a belching dump truck.

Elise sighed. “
Freaking out
might not be strong enough. How about
I'm-going-to-throw-up-every-time-I think-about-it
?” She propped her feet on the dashboard and stared out the window at the funky clothing boutiques and little ethnic restaurants flashing past. “This is my big chance, Soph,” she said. “If I can get Jacobs to notice me, he might invite me to an on-site visit. And that's the first step to an actual scholarship.”

Sophie signaled and slowed to pull up to the little blue-and-white Locopops storefront. The front doors were propped open, and the delicious scent of fruity sugar beckoned them inside.

“Yeah, it's going to be intense,” Sophie agreed as they joined the line in front of the counter. “I think Lacy is hoping Jacobs will notice her too.”

Elise thought of the strength and grace of Madison's kicks during the scrimmage. There was no way the scout could miss that. “Mexican chocolate, please,” she said to the bearded, bandanna-wearing guy behind the counter.

She accepted the big ice cream bar he handed her and followed Sophie over to their usual table by the front window. But, as she settled herself on the stool and licked at her ice cream, she knew that it wasn't a question of the scout
missing
any of the impressive moves the rest of the players were sure to show off. It was a question of why he'd even notice her in the first place.

T
hat night at dinner, Elise waited until her mother had served the string beans before she dropped her bombshell. “The UNC scout is coming to watch us at the end of the month.”

The serving spoon clattered to the table from her mother's slack fingers. At the other end of the table, her ten-year-old brother Darren didn't even look up from his book, but Elise's father stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows. Elise knew her family well enough that their reactions weren't surprising. Still, she dreaded what would come next.

“Reeallly,” he said, drawing the word out. His eyes twinkled behind his black-rimmed glasses. An excited smile spread across his face. “I don't suppose you'd be excited about that or anything? Is it Ryan Jacobs? Do you know? I think your mother dated him while we were all there.”

Elise's mother picked up the serving spoon and sat down. “Only briefly,” she said to her husband. “He's one of the toughest Division I scouts to impress.”

She piled her plate with string beans and took one small piece of chicken. Then she leaned forward, pinning Elise with her direct blue-eyed gaze. “Did Coach Berg say he'll be looking for the team next year?”

Elise nodded, her throat closing up, as it usually did under her mother's intensity.

Her mother sat back and nibbled delicately at a green bean. “Well, I hope you'll stand out. That's the only way you'll get an invitation to visit campus.” She paused and the telltale little crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Didn't you say Madison Wong has quite a field presence this season?”

Elise felt her body growing tense. How did her mom always know just exactly how to put her finger on the sore spot?

“Yeah, Madison's good,” she managed to choke out. Her throat was suddenly dry. She took a big gulp from her water glass.

“Well, you'll just have to be better,” Elise's mother said crisply. She popped another bean in her mouth.

The Heisels finished the meal in a silence broken only by the sound of chewing and the soft whisper of Darren turning the pages of his book.

E
lise escaped to her room at the first available moment. She closed the door quietly and dropped onto her blue-striped comforter, arms outstretched. She stared at the shelf of trophies across the room with the medals hanging down neatly underneath. Tears were already pricking beneath her eyelids.

She never should have said anything to
her.
Her mother always found some way to get in one of her little put-downs. Elise didn't know if she even knew what she was doing. Just because she'd been a starter for the UNC rugby team when she was a freshman back in 1970 or whenever…

Elise felt the nervous pressure mounting inside her and rose from the bed abruptly.
I'm doing everything I can
, she thought, pacing from one side of the room to the other.

She played her heart out in every game, ran, lifted weights, did all the extra drills Coach Berg recommended. It wasn't fair that she never got past “win those fifty-fifty balls, Elise” when players like Dayton Frey were always goofing off during practices, skipping the drills but still making more shots. Elise leaned on her windowsill, twisting the fabric of the curtains between her fingers.

Then her gaze fell on the closed, silver laptop across the room. Somewhere back in her mind, a little light flashed.
What if…

In a moment, Elise was sitting in front of her laptop, lifting the lid. She hesitated over the search bar for a long minute. Then, feeling as if someone were looking over her shoulder, she typed in “athletic performance enhancers.” She hit Enter before she could think too much about what she was doing.

Eyes darting across the screen, Elise scanned the results. “Bargain Sports Nutrition: Feel Great!” “X-Treme Muscle Fast,” “Get Ripped in 90 Days!”

Elise clicked on the first link. A photo of a muscled woman in a bikini appeared across the screen. She looked as if she was made of hamburger meat strung together. “Muscle! Muscle! Muscle!” screamed the banner at the top.

Elise clicked off the site hurriedly. That wasn't quite what she was looking for.

The trouble was that she didn't
know
what she was looking for, Elise admitted to herself. Not anything
illegal
or anything, of course. Thoughts of Lance Armstrong flashed through her mind. He'd been accused of taking some kind of banned substance during the Tour de France. But, no, nothing like that either. She just wanted a little boost. Like some kind of enhanced Gatorade. Did anyone make that kind of thing?

Scanning the search results, she clicked on another link. This one read “Winners Athletic Supplements.” There were no scary hamburger women on this page, and the smaller type below the banner read, “For the serious athlete, safe, natural supplements aimed at improving stamina, speed, strength, and reflexes.” Under that was a picture of a smiling man in a lab coat holding up a box. The words
Guaranteed improvement within one week
were emblazoned at the bottom. A big yellow box instructed, “Buy now!”

Within one week…
the words hung before Elise's eyes like a bunch of juicy grapes. She saw herself diving for the ball just ahead of the opposing forward and booting it to Sophie.
Fantastic, Elise!
Coach Berg shouted in her mind. The UNC scout was there too, smiling, whispering something to his assistant, writing on his clipboard. Now Elise was in Tar Heels blue, running onto the massive field in front of packed bleachers.

Elise quickly clicked on the yellow box, then added three boxes into her shopping cart.
It's okay
, she thought.
No one's ever said
not
to
. Still, she felt as though she had to work fast for some reason.

“Please enter your credit card number,” the screen instructed.

Elise's fingers paused on the keys. Of course. She didn't have a credit card. Whenever she'd ordered clothes or things online before, her mom gave her the card for a minute. But she always asked to see what Elise was ordering before she handed it over.

Elise drummed her fingers on the desk. It wasn't that she didn't
want
to show her mother the supplements. There was no reason
not
to.
I just don't feel like it right now
, Elise told herself. An uncomfortable feeling rose up in her stomach, but she squashed it down fast.

She crept to the door and cracked it open. Across the hall, Darren's door was shut tight. A thin yellow line shone beneath it. No sounds from downstairs. Elise sidled over to the banister and leaned over, listening. From her perch, she saw the front door was open and smelled the soft, evening breeze wafting in through the screen.

Stepping on the sides of the stairs so they wouldn't creak, Elise padded halfway down, then stopped to listen. Now she could hear the murmur of her parents' voices from the front yard. They were probably working in the flower beds.
Okay, great.

Her mother's purse sat in its usual place on a shelf in the living room bookcase. Elise eyed it as if it were a cobra. With her heart pounding, she gingerly undid the clasp and slid her hand inside.

“I think these irises are almost ready, Dave,” she heard her mother saying from the lawn. Her father murmured a reply.

Elise felt a thin film of sweat break out on her forehead. She pulled out her mother's black wallet. Half a dozen colorful credit cards were lined up enticingly inside.

Just then, Elise heard her mom's voice, alarmingly close. “I'll just get a glass of iced tea.” It sounded as though she was right on the porch.

Elise gasped, almost dropping the wallet.

“What? No, those go on the other side.” Footsteps retreated down the porch steps as if her mother had stepped into the yard again.

Okay, get it over with.
Working swiftly, Elise slid the American Express card from the wallet and tucked it into her back pocket. She stuck the wallet back in the purse and tiptoed back across the living room and up the stairs. She'd sneak it back into Mom's purse later that night, after everyone was asleep.

Up in her room, Elise quickly typed in the card number and hit Submit, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder.
It's not as though I'm committing some criminal act
, she told herself.

Except stealing
, a little voice said in her head. Elise ignored the voice and snapped the laptop lid closed. The pills would arrive in four to six days.

Throwing herself on her bed again, Elise squeezed her eyes shut and tried to conjure up a picture of herself on the UNC field. But for some reason, this time, the picture wouldn't come. Elise lay still on her bed a long time, blank darkness behind her eyelids.