Win or Lose (14 page)

I grimaced. I remembered how earlier in the season some of those boys, not Steven and Cody, had called us losers.

Grace continued. “It was really tough, but it brought all of us eighth graders closer, you know? After this year is over, we're moving on to high school. It's our last year on the Kicks. We're finally playing our best. And to have people think all the credit should go to the new blood, the seventh graders, hurts.”

Aha! The eighth-grade resentment toward the seventh graders made a lot more sense to me now. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it before.

“So next year, you'll all still be Kicks,” Grace added sadly. “At the very least, you'll be league championship Kicks, maybe even more before this season is done. But we'll be gone.”

“All of us together will always be league championship Kicks!” I said. “We wouldn't be champions if it weren't for all of you. We did it as a team.” And I meant it.

Grace gave me a small smile. “I just wanted you to know where we were coming from. That first newspaper article kicked up a lot of feelings.” She laughed. “No pun intended. Coach Valentine would have loved that one.”

I nodded. I understood, but I wished Grace had told me that from the beginning. We might have been able to work things out together as a team.

“That's why at the championship game, we wanted to do it all ourselves, so no one could say that we'd won because of you or the other seventh graders.” Grace shook her head. “Now we all know what a bad idea that was.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But you saw it wasn't working, and we managed to win. All of us, the seventh and eighth graders together, as a team.”

Grace nodded before looking over at the field. “Wow, Coach Valentine is still not here. We should start the warm-up,” she said.

I smiled. “You do it, as the eighth-grade captain.”

Grace returned my smile before walking back toward the Kicks, who were standing around chatting. “While we're waiting for Coach Valentine, let's warm up.”

I joined them as the team began to run a lap around the field. But we didn't get far before a shrill scream pierced the air.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

The noise was coming from Emma. She had stopped in her tracks and was pointing across the field. A huge smile filled her face.

I looked in the direction where she was pointing. I saw a short woman with curly brown hair in the distance. She was wearing a familiar blue hoodie. It was Coach Flores!

“Coach!” I yelled.

Coach Flores smiled and waved. In one motion the Kicks turned and began running straight toward her, screaming and cheering as they ran.

As we got closer, I could see Coach Flores's eyes widen in mock fear. She held up her hands to block us. “It's a Kicks stampede!” she joked.

We jumped all over her anyway, practically knocking her over as everyone hugged her, talking the entire time.

“I missed you so much!” Zoe cried.

“It's great to have you back, Coach,” Grace told her.

“Never, ever leave us again,” Frida wailed. “It was horrible.”

Coach Flores just laughed at that. “I don't think it was too horrible. You beat the Panthers. Congrats!”

Everyone began talking excitedly about the game. “And we had a shoot-out and everything!” Emma explained. “Hey, how is your dad doing?”

“I'm happy to say he's doing much better, and I'm so glad to be back here with my girls!” Coach Flores said, smiling. “We could chitchat all day, but we've got a big game coming up on Saturday. We better get to work! I want to see if Coach Valentine taught you any new tricks.”

“I don't know about that, but he sure gave me some new
tics
,” Frida said while she twitched her eye. Everyone
started laughing at that, except Coach Flores, who kept a straight face, but I could tell she thought it was pretty funny.

“He was tough, even though sometimes he was kind of funny,” Maya said. “But we really did miss you—a lot!”

“Let's spend some quality time on the soccer field, then,” Coach Flores replied, grinning. “Count off for scrimmage!”

“It's like everything is coming together!” I told Kara that night during our video chat.

“So, did the eighth graders seem any different after reading the article and after your talk with Grace?” Kara asked.

I nodded. “When we played a scrimmage, I was on a team with Grace, Jade, Anjali, and Zarine. It felt like things were better, especially with Coach Flores there. Fingers crossed!” I held up my right hand and crossed my middle and index finger, and while I did that I crossed my eyes, too. It always made Kara laugh.

“Ha!” Kara giggled. “Are you ready for the regional game on Saturday?”

“We've got two more practices, so that will help,” I said, but then I hesitated. The Cosmos had lost their last game and were out of the play-offs. I didn't want to make Kara feel bad. “But we don't have to talk about it.”

Kara just laughed. “Don't worry about me, Devin. Yeah, it stinks that we're out of the play-offs, but we had a great
season. Now I can put all my play-off hopes and dreams on you. I'm counting on you, Devin!” she said teasingly. “Do it for both of us!”

Just one of the million reasons I loved Kara. She was the best!

“This is crazy!” Jessi said as we walked into the gym on Friday afternoon.

The entire population of Kentville Middle School was climbing into the bleachers. Principal Gallegos stood in front of the crowd, holding a microphone. The school cheerleaders, dressed in blue and white, were warming up on the sidelines. A huge banner, painted by the sixth-period art class, hung from the gym wall. It had a picture of a kangaroo on it kicking a soccer ball, and the words, “Go, Kangaroos!”

“All right, girls. Let's line up over here,” Coach Flores said, motioning to all of the Kicks. She was wearing a blue-and-white tracksuit that matched our uniforms, which we had worn to school that day.

“Good afternoon, students!” Principal Gallegos said in his usual loud voice. “I am so proud of our girls'
soccer team today. Tomorrow our very own Kentville Kangaroos—otherwise known as the Kicks—will play their first game in the state championship tournament. Let's send them off with a big Kentville cheer!”

Everyone clapped, and I even heard a few high-pitched whistles. Then I heard the sound of a drumbeat, and the middle school marching band marched in, playing a really upbeat song. They weren't in full uniform, but they each wore blue jeans and a blue Kangaroos T-shirt, so the effect was still pretty awesome.

After the band finished, the cheerleaders did a routine, and they even made a pyramid. Emma nudged me.

“I still can't believe that this is all for us!” she said, her eyes wide.

“I know,” I whispered back. “It's pretty awesome.”

Principal Gallegos got back in front of the crowd. “Wasn't that great?” he asked. “And now I'd like to introduce Coach Flores.”

Coach Flores looked at us. “Just like we practiced, okay?”

We all nodded as she picked up a soccer ball and jogged up to Principal Gallegos and took the microphone from him.

“Hey, everyone!” she began, and a bunch of kids clapped. “I'm so proud to be standing here today with the Kentville Kangaroos girls' soccer team. These girls worked hard this season to get where they are! And now I am proud to introduce . . . the Kicks!”

Grace was at the head of the line, and she jogged out onto the gym floor. We lined up along the back of the gym. Coach Flores put down the soccer ball and kicked it to Grace.

“First up, our eighth-grade captain . . . Grace Kirkland!”

Grace dribbled the ball across the gym and stopped next to Coach Flores. Then she turned and kicked the ball to the next girl in line.

“Next up is Megan Nowak!” Coach announced.

Megan dribbled the ball across the gym next, and then she kicked it to the next girl in line. It kept going like that until Jade, the last eighth grader, was introduced. It was my turn next, and I realized that my palms were really sweaty. I knew it was just a pep rally, but suddenly I felt as nervous as if I were playing in a game!

“Let's hear it for our seventh-grade captain, Devin Burke!”

I stopped the ball with my foot and started to dribble across the floor. I couldn't look up at the crowd, so I stared at my feet—which was a mistake. I lost my rhythm and tripped over my own left foot. The ball escaped from me, and I jogged after it, my face turning bright red. I could hear a few people laugh in the bleachers.

“Go, Devin!” Emma cheered, and in a flash I remembered how many times Emma had done embarrassing stuff like trip and fall on the field. Once, she had even kicked the ball into the wrong goal! But she never let it get to her. She always kept going.

I felt the heat leave my face as I smoothly dribbled the ball down to Coach. Then I turned and kicked it to Emma with a grateful smile.

Emma made it across the gym without even tripping once! One by one Coach Flores called out all my friends: Jessi, Zoe, Frida, Brianna, Sarah, Anna, and Olivia. I made sure to cheer extra loud for each of them.

“The Kicks wanted to say a special thank-you to Coach Valentine for getting the team through the play-offs. Stand up, Coach!”

Coach Valentine sat in the first row of bleachers, surrounded by the boys' team. He reluctantly stood up as his team chanted, “Coach! Coach! Coach!”

As planned, Grace and I took the microphone.

“Hey, Coach Valentine, we've got a question for you,” Grace said. “Why did the soccer field get all wet?”

Coach laughed as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Because the soccer players dribbled all over it!” I said into the microphone.

Coach Valentine started laughing his signature loud, gruff laugh. All of the Kicks starting cracking up, as well as most of the boys' team.

“Thanks for helping us out when Coach Flores was gone,” I added. “We'll miss you.”

“But we won't miss the extra laps and push-ups,” Grace joked.

Coach Valentine continued to laugh while giving us a thumbs-up.

Coach Flores took the microphone back. “And, of course, the boys' team had a great season too,” she said. “Let's hear it for the boys!”

Everybody clapped and cheered for the boys, and the Kicks cheered for them extra hard. Cody jumped up and smiled and waved at everybody, but I noticed that some of the boys looked kind of miserable. A few, like this eighth grader named Trey Bishop, didn't even stand up. Trey had his hands folded across his chest, like he was angry or something.

I couldn't dwell on that, though, because then the band played another song, and we all just kind of danced around and clapped along to the music, and it was wonderful and amazing and crazy, and I got totally psyched up for the game.

Jessi high-fived me. “We are going to dominate the Bolts tomorrow!”

“Dominate!” I echoed.

The band's song ended just as the final bell of the day rang.

“Have a great weekend, everybody, and I hope to see you all in Brightville for the big game!” Principal Gallegos called out.

Kids poured out of the stands. Frida's drama club friends ran up and hugged her, and Jessi nudged me and nodded toward Cody and Steven, who were coming toward us.

In a panic I tried to secretly check my armpits because of how nervous I'd been before. When I looked back up,
Trey and a couple of the other eighth-grade players from the boys' team had sprung ahead of Cody and Steven. I was kind of surprised to see Trey right in my face.

“Nice move out there, Devin,” Trey said. “If you kick like that on the field, you guys will do great.”

The boys behind him snickered, but I didn't let it get to me.

“Whatever,” I said, turning my back to them to face Jessi. She looked pretty angry.

But Trey didn't give up. “The only reason you guys won the play-offs is because you had
our
coach,” he said.