Breakaway Read online

  “Deal!” Vee answered, tapping the ball from thigh to thigh.

  “So guess what?” Lily said.

  “You got new cleats?”

  “No, but I’ve got my eye on a Nike pair. So really, guess what?” Lily asked again.

  “What?”

  “At school today, they announced our win over the loudspeaker.”

  “Dude!” Vee shouted while trying to balance the ball on her forehead.

  In Vee language “dude” was an acceptable form of expression for nearly every occasion. Happy, sad, impressed, as in right now, with the right tone all emotions could be conveyed with the appropriate usage of her friend’s favorite word. Vee had not one hint of the accent her father carried from Mexico because she’d been born in New York, like Lily. Where Lily was tall, Vee was petite. Lily was blond, while Vee’s hair was so black it sometimes resembled the violet hue of a blueberry. Her cocoa skin without a single freckle. Basically, she was a physical yin to Lily’s yang. Vee’s mom had died when Vee had been too young to remember, so it was just her and Tomás. To Lily, the two were like family, but better.

  Lily was excited to tell Vee about the rest of her day. “And you won’t believe this one. They announced that I scored the winning goal in assembly too.”

  “No way! Man, I should have been there!” Vee said, and Lily wished for approximately the millionth time that they were in the same school.

  “Let’s see how many headers we can do together,” Lily suggested. Vee kicked her ball to the side and Lily tossed hers in the air. Vee watched it come down and headed it back to Lily. Lily wondered if Tabitha’s house had a pool table.

  “Ouch!” Lily yelled as the ball glanced off her head and went flying. Vee turned to chase it down.

  “The trick is to keep your eyes on the ball, remember?” Vee teased.

  “I guess I’m a little distracted.” Lily laughed. “It was a pretty cool day, I have to admit.”

  “You’re a celebrity!” Vee cheered, tossing the ball back.

  “Oh, and get this one,” Lily said, mid-header. “Tabitha Gordon even asked me to come over to her house today after practice.”

  Vee caught the ball. “She did?”

  “Can you believe that?”

  “The Tabitha Gordon?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you gonna go?” Vee asked.

  “I guess,” Lily answered. Of course she was going.

  “Isn’t she the girl you said runs like Cinderella with one missing shoe?”

  Lily smiled. “Yep.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to hear all about this one,” Vee said, picking up the other ball and heading inside.

  Me either, thought Lily.

  chapter 4

  Lily raced to finish the last of her pre-algebra problems as Vee leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, packed and ready to go. Practice started in ten minutes. Vee hadn’t said anything more about Tabitha’s invitation, and Lily got the feeling it was probably better not to mention it again.

  “Done!” Lily said, using her fingers to gather her work like she was raking a pile of leaves.

  “I don’t want to do any push-ups today!” Vee said. Both girls knew their coach’s rule: ten push-ups for every five minutes of missed practice.

  “Me either,” Lily said. Vee held the door to the kitchen open so Lily could sprint through. With Vee trailing right behind, she ran through the bar and waved good-bye to her father. Lily charged ahead to the restaurant door and held it open for Vee. They were cutting it way too close today. Sunlight from the crisp fall day flooded the street as they ran together out onto the sidewalk. Lily let the door go, but before her eyes could adjust to the light, she heard the sound of a collision.

  “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” she heard a boy yell. Lily bolted onto the sidewalk to find an angry-looking Griffin Prescott IV lying in the middle of the street next to a stunned-looking Vee. She was rubbing her arm and Griff was holding his wrist. A shiny new BMX dirt bike was lying next to him in the street, and Lily could see the palms of his hands were scraped.

  “What happened?” Lily asked.

  “She ran right into me,” Griffin said, pointing at Vee. “That’s what happened.”

  “I’m sorry,” Vee said immediately. “I didn’t see you.”

  Vee went over and offered a Griffin a hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Just do me a favor and leave me alone,” he grunted, refusing Vee’s outstretched arm.

  “Really, I’m sorry,” Vee said, backing away. Lily thought she looked like she was about to cry. Lily knew Griffin because his father had just opened a sports bar called Heritage, across the street, and because they went to the same junior high. She was not a fan. He was in eighth grade and quarterback of the Brookville Junior squad. At school, everyone just called him G-4. Going by your initials was one thing, in Lily’s opinion, but sticking in digits was just too much.

  Vee saw a car approaching and ran over to move the BMX. “I’ll get your bike out of the street.”

  “Keep your hands off!” he warned.

  “Hey, take it easy,” Lily said. “She said she was sorry.”

  “She should stop being sorry and just watch where she’s going.”

  Lily saw Vee’s face begin to crumple. Lily felt bad that Griffin had hurt his hands, but he wouldn’t let it go.

  “You’re the one who’s always riding your bike on the sidewalk,” Lily answered. “It wasn’t like she did it on purpose.”

  “I didn‘t,” Vee tried to explain. “We were rushing to practice.”

  “Figures,” G-4 muttered under his breath.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lily asked.

  “You think getting your goal announced at school means you’re something in this town? You have a lot to learn,” Griffin said. Lily was confused at first, but then it finally registered: Brookville Junior football had gotten slaughtered in their last game 35-0. He was jealous the school had announced the travel soccer scores instead of the regular football results.

  “Well, at least we win for Brookville,” Vee said, straightening herself up.

  “We?” Griffin Prescott said, picking up his bike. “That’s a joke. You don’t even live in this town, do you? You shouldn’t even be playing for Brookville. Why don’t you go back where you belong?”

  Vee gasped, and Lily couldn’t take any more. Before Griffin could say another word, Lily tossed her ball up and volleyed it directly at his head. It flew like a rocket, and he ducked just a millisecond before the ball would have hit him like a missile, stumbled to the ground and smacked his hands hard on the pavement again. The ball whizzed by and slammed into the big glass yellow H hanging in front of the Heritage sports bar. All three stopped to watch as the giant letter swung precariously back and forth.

  “Dude!” Vee yelled.

  Oh, please, don’t let it fall, Lily prayed to herself.

  “You are so busted,” G-4 said.

  Lily grabbed her ball as Vee turned her by the shoulders and pushed her down the street away from the tottering sign.

  “LJ, let’s go!”

  Lily and Vee were more than ten minutes late for practice, and Chris wanted an explanation. He spotted them as he emerged from the team clubhouse with a stack of bright orange cones.

  “Well?” he said, his green shirt and skinny arms making him resemble a loosely arranged bunch of beans. Before Lily could claim some excuse like babysitting, Vee blurted out everything about their run-in in town. Chris nodded with lanky understanding as long brown strands flopped across his forehead.

  “Go warm up,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”

  Lily was so agitated when she and Vee started their practice circuit that her ten right-footed passes were more like smart bombs.

  “Take it easy, LJ,” Vee said. “You trying to take my head off too?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I am the only one that goes to Lakewood,” Vee said after a few more passes. “Everyone else
on the team goes to Brookville Junior or St. Mary’s.”

  “So what?” Lily answered. “Just because you live in a different town doesn’t mean you can’t be on the travel team. Don’t let that jerk get to you. He’s a loser and doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  Vee laughed. “That’s ten,” she said, making the last pass. “Now volleys. But don’t kill me!”

  Throwing the ball high into the air and watching it come down, Lily timed her kick after one bounce. She connected with the laces of her right foot and sent the ball sailing with a satisfying thump. Vee made an easy trap and sent it sailing back, at least thirty yards. But on the next volley, Vee caught the ball in her hands and said in a low voice, “You could get in a lot of trouble, LJ. You know Mr. Prescott is like on the board of everything in Brookville.”

  Lily shrugged. “The sign didn’t break, right?”

  Vee tossed the ball back. “It was a really nice shot.” She giggled, obviously pleased LJ had come to her defense. “Did you see the look on his face?”

  Lily nodded, and the two girls spent the rest of their warm-up circuit reliving the near pummeling of G-4. Chris made them do the same warm-up every practice: ten passes, ten half volleys, ten full volleys and then ten headers. On most days it was the perfect way to get their bodies ready to play and their minds away from homework, boys and gossip.

  Chris blew the whistle and announced they would be working on three-v.-twos: three offenders trying to beat two defenders. Lily, Amelia and Vee would take on Riley, Sue, plus the goalie, Beth. Usually, Lily loved the drill because the offense had a one-person advantage. The girls made three lines at midfield. On her first run, Lily took the ball straight at the front defender, Riley, and at the last second passed it off to Amelia on her left. She sprinted straight behind in an overlapping run and got the ball back down by the end line. Vee was calling from the middle of the box, so Lily pulled the ball back with her right foot and put a cross in. It was way too high and sailed off the field and onto the street.

  “Shoot,” Lily muttered, stomping her feet and kicking a free ball off the field. She never missed a cross like that. Lily jogged to half field and got back in line.

  “Hey, LJ, last time I checked, the goal was over there,” Chris teased.

  After a few more turns, her coach decided it was time to have a half-field scrimmage. He kept the girls divided into offense and defense. For Lily practice kept getting worse. She missed her passes, fumbled her traps and even tripped once on her untied laces. It seemed the harder she tried to concentrate, the worse she did. Her frustration level was on the rise, percolating into anger. It always started the same for her: a hot flash at the top of her neck that she could actually feel crash over her in a wave. Sometimes she could let it wash over her, take a deep breath and then regain control, but lately those dark and stormy eyes had been brewing regular tsunamis.

  Lily took a deep breath now. She tied her shoes in double knots and sprinted back into the scrimmage. Reese and Vee connected on a pass down the line and crossed it right to Lily. Lily leapt to redirect the ball into the goal with her head but mistimed her jump. The ball glanced off the back of her head and flew over the crossbar. She snapped and fell to the ground in a first-class fit, pounding her fists into the ground with a frustrated yell.

  Chris had seen enough. “LJ. Take five,” he called. Lily sulked over to the water cooler.

  A few minutes later Chris blew the whistle and the girls all gathered for break and what Chris liked to call “think time.” Most of his talks focused on strategy, last week’s game or the upcoming opponent. All sixteen players sat in a semicircle with Chris on his haunches in the middle. Lily was afraid to make eye contact.

  “We’ve got a big match this weekend, girls,” he said. That was an understatement. Everyone knew they were playing Castle Creek, the best team in the league. The game was a must win if they wanted a shot at the championship.

  “Castle Creek likes to take charge early and push hard. They’re quick off the ball and their striker, Molly Barrelton, has a wicked banana kick. We’ve been doing really well up front, but we’re going to have to keep the pressure up to move through their defense. I want us to work on some set pieces this week and, in case it’s a tie, penalty kicks. Beth and Lily, I want you to alternate in goal.”

  Lily looked up. Goalie? She sometimes played backup goalie in practice, but in her mind, it had always been just for fun. She had to be on the field for Castle Creek. I’m a goal scorer, not a goal stopper, she thought. Plus, penalty kicks were her specialty. There was a secret to taking them, Lily had learned, but it took a lot of practice. Lily had never missed a penalty kick and didn’t want to start now.

  She looked up at her coach in disbelief, but Chris just kept right on talking.

  “I also wanted to let you girls know that I got a call from the coach of the State Select Team. He’s going to try and make the game.” Chris paused for effect. “He’s got his eyes on some of the local players.”

  Lily held her breath. All the best players were on the state team. Was the coach coming to see her?

  “Who is he coming to scout?” Avery asked.

  “He didn’t say specifically,” Chris answered, but his eyes darted quickly to Lily. “So everyone’s got a shot. But we’ve all got to keep cool heads and think like a team. Remember we’re there to win this game, first and foremost. This is not a tryout.”

  He starting pacing in the little cage created by the surrounding girls. “You know, soccer is as much a psychological game as it is a physical one. Now, it’s my responsibility as your coach to teach you the right moves on the field, but it is also my responsibility to teach you how to think.”

  Lily had a feeling the comments were directed at her.

  “The key to being a good soccer player is finding equilibrium,” he said, holding both of his hands palm up, like he had an invisible baby in his arms.

  “Equilibrium? Is that a skin lotion?” Tabitha Gordon asked with a perky grin. “I think my mom has a vial. It’s got, like, fish eggs or something?”

  Lily saw Vee roll her eyes, and Chris shook his head as if to clear cobwebs from his brain. “No, Tabitha, it’s not a lotion. Equilibrium means to find balance. It means you have to learn to harness your emotions and, most of all, to think before you act. No matter what. For example, if we score a goal in the first five minutes of the game, we can’t just run around freaking out like we’ve won the match. We’ve got to remember we have the rest of the game to play.”

  “Or, like, if we get scored on?” Susie, the eternal defender, asked.

  “Exactly, Sue,” Chris said. “If we get scored on, it doesn’t mean we’ve lost the game. But if we exert our energy worrying about what has already happened, then we’re losing the psychological game first, and then the real game will follow.”

  Chris started pacing faster, then stopped and locked eyes with Lily. “The key is to recognize that we all have emotions—positive and negative—but to keep them to a dull roar. To keep focused on what’s important and block out what, or who, isn’t.”

  Lily tilted her head to the side to listen, trying to ignore Tabitha Gordon’s humming as she attempted to French braid loose threads on her blue socks.

  “People who don’t understand soccer—and there are lots of them—don’t realize it’s a thinkers’ game. Soccer is really just a string of decisions. Do I pass? Do I go back? Or do I wait for them to make a mistake? At the end of the day, it will be the quality of those decisions that determines the outcome.”

  Lily could tell Chris was pleased with today’s little speech because he rubbed his hands and twirled his whistle string in a big arc. Chris always twirled his whistle when he was happy.

  “Okay, I want everyone to take a lap to loosen up and then I want offense at the top of the D and defense in a four-person wall.”

  The team got up as a group and started to jog around the field. “LJ, hang back for a second.”

  Lily staye
d behind. “Coach?”

  “Sit,” Chris commanded.

  She sat.

  “You hear what I’m saying?”

  She nodded.

  “This select team coach? He did mention one player’s name.”

  “Mine?” Lily asked.

  “Yours,” Chris said with a nod. “People are noticing you, LJ, but you have to remember to keep your cool. Part of what makes you such a great soccer player is your passion. But that temper of yours can hurt you. What you did in town today was stupid and impulsive, and how you acted at practice was immature. Who cares what some kid says? You could have hurt him. Or you could have broken that sign and gotten in a lot of trouble. Then you missed a cross. Big deal. I know you want to be a great soccer player, LJ, but you have to learn to think with your head, not just your heart.”

  Lily looked at the ground.

  “LJ?”

  “I heard you,” Lily answered, tired of the lectures. “I’m not going to be playing goalie this weekend, am I? What if there’s a penalty kick? How am I going to be the one to take it?”

  “You’ll be playing where the team needs you, LJ,” he answered sharply. “Now give me thirty.”

  Lily stepped to the side of the field, jumped over the line and dropped to the ground. “All the way down,” Chris said.

  Lily toughed out ten push-ups.

  “That’s the regular twenty for being late and ten extra for acting like a prima donna during practice.”

  Lily strained as she lowered herself through ten more and saw some of her teammates watching. A hot flush filled her cheeks.

  She puffed out the last ten.

  “That’s it for today, everyone,” Chris announced finally. “Practice Wednesday. Okay, LJ, you’re free.”

  Lily got up and looked for Vee, who was changing her shoes nearby. Lily was dying to get out of there.

  “Ready, LJ?” It was Tabitha Gordon.

  “For?” Lily said.

  “You’re coming over, right? And staying for dinner?”

  Lily hesitated for an instant.