Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,126
than I had been to hear a sophomore use the word “reallocate.”
“And we didn’t have to wash any cars to get it!” Franchesa said, pumping her fist.
Candace stole one of George’s fries and said, “We can’t wait to see you guys.”
“Maybe you can join back up next year?” Tina offered.
“I was thinking about badminton,” Candace said. Then she whispered to Tina and me, “I need something that requires slightly less boob taping.”
As the day went on, the rest of the team found out about the bus. Dawn in particular was really enthused by the development. “Is it true we have a bus?” she asked me when our paths crossed after fifth period. When I said it was, she grinned. “There’s going to be a scout from the college where my aunt works in Wisconsin,” she said. “The bus makes the team look a lot more established.”
“A scout?”
“Yeah, for a small college with a soccer team,” she said. “I mean, it probably won’t lead to anything, but if I can get any money for college, it would be huge. It’s the only way I’m going to get out of here.”
“Do you think they’ll be watching all of us?” I said, thinking it couldn’t hurt to get a scout interested in me early.
“I don’t see how they couldn’t,” Dawn said. “So look alive.”
I was pretty sure I could do that.
We gathered at the front of the school to meet our bus. Bobby did a head count, then said to all of us, “You look ready.” He’d been somewhat short on his speeches lately, and we also hadn’t needed them as much. But then he said, to all of us, “Whatever happens, this is your team. I got to witness it, but all of this was all of you.”
I hated him the slightest iota less with each passing day.
Since the pep rally, people had been promising to come to the game, but I hadn’t really believed many of them until we got off the bus at St. Mark’s and saw the stands were full. Or at least full enough to fill the rows about halfway up. John and the cross-country guys were actually there, and so were some of the people who’d praised us in the hallway.
Candace had shown up with George, Duane Harris, and, improbably, Keith Barnes. George held up a homemade sign with a big foot on it that read “OUR GOAL? STOMP ON ST. MARK’S!” It was extremely corny and very George, but I couldn’t help smiling.
My huge grin faded when my eyes landed on Polly and Dad in the front row. Dad pretended to be setting his watch, but Polly waved. As I passed, Polly leaned forward, exaggeratedly mouthing, He’s fine. For all I knew, “he’s fine” might only have meant that he was sitting in the stands at my soccer game and somehow not having an anger-based heart attack, not that he approved of what he was seeing, or of what he had seen at his wedding.
“Holy shit,” Tina said. “I can’t believe there are so many people. Now, whatever happens, people are going to remember.” She waved at her parents then leaned closer to me. “Todd is sitting kitty corner from them. Oh my God, I hope he doesn’t say anything during the game.”
Todd had a sign that read “POWELL PARK . . . GO, FIGHT, WIN!” and he held it up and waved it side to side until Tina smiled at him.
On the other side, St. Mark’s had its own crowd, mostly other boys from the school. Their signs weren’t as friendly. “CHICKS SHOULD BE IN THE KITCHEN, NOT KICKIN” was about as clever as they got. I didn’t see Joe, though. I’d half hoped he’d make a punk rock gesture and sit on our side of the bleachers, but he wasn’t even on his school’s side. At least if today sucked, he wouldn’t see it, I tried to tell myself. But I knew that I wanted him to see the game, good or bad.
St. Mark’s was warming up, making kicks that sounded like someone pounding bloody chunks of meat. Ken caught my eye across the field and flipped me off.
I was about to lift my finger to return the gesture when Bobby stepped in front of me. “You’re better than that. Flip them off by winning.” His jaw was stern and tight. I knew it was probably risky for him to let us play a boys’ team in front of all these people, and I