Settle the Score (4 page)

Screeeeeeeeech!

The metal table legs made a deafening sound as we pushed four tables together at Pizza Kitchen to make room for all seventeen Griffons. We should have been eighteen, but Jamie hadn't showed up, even though I'd tried inviting her again after the game.

“Sounds like fun. We can all cry into our pepperoni,” she had said before walking away.

Looking around the table now, I knew Jamie kind of had a point. Nobody looked happy at all, and nobody was really talking with one another. Even though our play-off hopes hadn't been dashed yet, this was a tough loss. Luckily, it was two thirty, and the lunch crowd was mostly gone, so if we were going to cry into our pepperoni, nobody would see us.

“Okay, so how many pizzas do we want?” I asked, just as a commotion came through the front door. A great, purple commotion of victorious Gators.

Unlike the Griffons, the Gators were talking and laughing—loudly. I caught Zoe's eye, and she flashed me an apologetic smile, but she didn't come over to talk to me or anything. She and the Gators pushed some tables together and started their victory celebration.

“Root beer for everyone!” one of the Gators yelled, and her teammates let out a cheer. I guessed that root beer must have been their victory tradition or something.

Over at our table Kelly and Sasha were whispering to each other. Then Kelly spoke up.

“Listen, it was a nice idea to come out for pizza and everything, but we should leave,” she said. “I don't want to witness the Gators' victory celebration.”

“It's too depressing,” chimed in Sasha, and some of the other girls started to murmur in agreement.

I looked at Jessi, and she just shrugged.

“Come on. Leaving will be even more depressing,” I said. “We haven't had our pizza yet. And let's not forget, if we win next week's game, we'll go to the semifinals. We might have another chance to beat the Gators.”

“
If
we win next week,” Tracey said.

“Of course we'll win next week!” I said. “And then we'll go on to the semifinals, and then we'll go to our championship game and crush it!”

“Yeah!” Jessi cheered, and I was so grateful that she had come around. Soon all the Griffons were cheering and pounding our fists on the table.

We calmed down long enough to figure out our pizza order, and while we waited for it, everyone was talking and laughing, just like normal. I was glad we had all decided to stay. We felt like a team—except, of course, that Jamie was missing.

“I don't understand why Jamie never comes out with us,” I said.

Mirabelle was sitting next to me. “You know that I used to be friends with her, right?” she asked, and I nodded. “Well, I might know what's bugging her. She loves soccer, but her parents don't take it seriously. Her older brother plays football and basketball, and her younger sister is a ballet dancer, and Jamie's got this whole middle-child problem.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Jessi's eyes lit up. “Wait, it's like Addison on
RTOBH
!” she said. “Her parents adore her oldest sister, who's a model, and her little sister is like a genius or something, and they ignore Addison. Jasmine said on one episode that's why Addison acts out.”

“Yeah, kind of like that,” agreed Mirabelle. “Jamie's parents almost never come to her soccer games. They work all the time, and when they take off work, it's to go to a football game or a dance recital. It really bothers Jamie.”

“Wow, I totally get that,” I said. And then it hit me—Jamie had been dropping hints all along. I just hadn't understood them.

A few games ago, when my dad had been late to my game, Jamie had told me to “get used to it.” And the other day she'd said that she didn't like celebrating, and just today she had made fun of my cheering section.

“That must be hard, to see other people's parents cheering on their kids and have nobody cheering for you,” I said. “Poor Jamie!”

Jessi shook her head. “Wow, I didn't think I'd ever hear you say, ‘poor Jamie,' especially after what she did to the Kicks,” she said. “But I get it. That's got to be hard for her.”

Then Jessi looked at me intently. “Devin, I can see those wheels turning in your brain. I know you want to fix this. But what are you going to do? You can't change Jamie's parents.”

“I know,” I said, but Jessi was right. The wheels in my head
were
turning. When I saw a problem, I always wanted to fix it, no matter how hard it was.

But this problem—I realized this one might be impossible to solve!

“Go, Maisie!” I yelled as my sister zigzagged around a defender and charged at the goal. When another defender threatened her from the left, Maisie looked around and called out a teammate's name—“Juliet!”—before passing her the ball.

Juliet received the pass and took a shot. Goal!

Bursting with pride for my little sister, I jumped up from the camp chair I had been sitting in on the side of the field, knocking it over.

“Woo-hoo!” I yelled. My mom, sitting next to me, gave a little shriek as my chair toppled onto her. Then she shook her head and laughed before getting up to cheer too.

“Soccer families stick together,” Mom said as she righted my chair.

I frowned, thinking of Jamie. Her family was definitely not a soccer family, and she had no one to cheer her on. Which was why I was cheering a little bit more for Maisie today. It made me realize how lucky I was to have such a supportive family. If I couldn't fix Jamie's problem, at least I could show my sister how much I cared.

Maisie jogged past Mom and me. “Way to go, Maisie!” I yelled. She flashed me a smile and gave a thumbs-up before putting her game face on again.

“Great communication! Way to share the ball!” my dad called out encouragingly. He was the coach of Maisie's third-grade elementary school soccer team, the Panthers. We were watching them play in the field next to Maisie's school.

Emma and Frida, his assistant coaches, were on the sidelines too. Mom and I were sitting close by. Emma was comforting a Panther named Mindy.

“I'm so embarrassed,” Mindy sobbed, tears running down her cheeks. “I kicked the ball into the wrong goal!”

I felt so bad for Mindy. In her excitement after getting the ball, she had kicked it into the Panthers' goal instead of the Comets' goal. Emma knew exactly how Mindy was feeling. She had once done the same thing, scoring for the opposite team. It had happened when I'd first started playing with the Kicks. Emma had been able to laugh it off, along with the teasing that had followed. If anyone could make Mindy feel better about what had happened, it was Emma.

Emma leaned over and began talking softly to Mindy. I couldn't hear what she said, but I saw Mindy's face brighten. The tears stopped and she started to laugh. Emma continued to talk to her, and then Mindy stood up and gave Emma a high five. My dad put Mindy back into the game, and she ran onto the field, her two long braids flapping behind her and all traces of tears gone from her cheeks. Emma watched, smiling, from the sideline.

Meanwhile, Frida was passing the ball back and forth between some of the other Panthers, keeping them warmed up and ready to jump into the game.

“Imagine that inside the ball is the ancient treasure of Atlantis. You must guard the ball to keep the treasure safe,” I overheard Frida say.

Frida always played soccer better when she pretended she was someone else on the field, since she needed to be acting in order to be happy. It worked for her when she was on the Kicks, and it was fun to see her use it while coaching the little girls. They totally responded to it.

“I will protect the treasure, Princess Frida,” Maisie's friend Kaylin said solemnly.

Frida's eyes shone, and I knew how much she must have loved having all these kids to playact with and to call her princess! I was laughing to myself when my phone vibrated in the pocket of my shorts. I slipped it out and saw I had a text from Zoe. I hadn't heard from her since the Gators had beaten us yesterday.

Gr8 game yesterday! It was close.

I sighed. It had been close. I had really wanted to win that game and guarantee the Griffons a place in the semifinals. Thankfully, we still had one more chance.

If we win next week's game, we might have a rematch!
I texted back. What I really wanted to say is,
We'll get you next time
. But part of me held back. Zoe didn't seem comfortable competing against me and Jessi. I didn't think she'd take it as I intended it, as a good-natured rivalry.

But her answer totally surprised me.

I hope not.

What? Zoe hoped the Griffons didn't win their next game? I frowned as I reread her text, thinking I must have gotten it wrong. Maybe it was the glare from the sun. I held my palm over the screen of the phone. No. That was what she'd said. I had read it right the first time.

Wait, what? You hope we don't win?
I texted back, shocked. I couldn't believe Zoe would say something like that. It was totally out of character for her. Yet she had been acting kind of strange lately. . . .

No! Sorry!
Zoe texted back right away.
I meant I hope we don't have a rematch. I didn't like playing against my friends.

I understood where Zoe was coming from. It was weird playing against good friends. However, I couldn't help but think that if Zoe didn't want to have a rematch with the Griffons, one of our teams would have to lose along the way. I didn't want it to be the Griffons, and I was sure Zoe didn't want it to be the Gators, either. So in a way she had to be hoping we would lose our game. Knowing Zoe, I had to believe she didn't mean it in a nasty way. I knew that I wanted the Griffons to win. If that meant the Gators losing, what could I do?

I stared at my phone as I thought about how I would reply to Zoe. I decided to just let it go. Clearly she was getting way too stressed out about the possibility of us facing off against each other on the soccer field again. Besides, I had other things to worry about, like winning our next game and securing a spot in the semifinals.