Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,14

“What’s it to you, Paul?”

“I’m sure nothing,” Paul said. “Your pretty-boy coach doesn’t have the stamina to keep this going.”

“Funny, Arlene said the same thing about you,” Candace shot back. Arlene Swann was Paul’s recent ex, and had also made the team.

“Paul, you gonna take that?” asked his zitty sidekick jock whose name I didn’t know.

“You let chicks think they can play sports and this is what happens,” Paul said, shaking his head.

From down the table, Franchesa Rotini, who’d also survived tryouts, muttered, “Maybe we should tell Coach McMann how you feel.”

“Like I care what some soccer coach thinks of me,” he said, but he did walk away. I didn’t care what Paul Mahoney thought about me, but I guess I was a bit surprised that our team and Coach McMann rankled him enough that he felt compelled to share his shitty opinions with us. It seemed like a waste of the energy he could have expended leering at freshmen girls.

As word got around that there now was a girls’ soccer team at Powell Park, the news was mostly met with a shrug, but a few girls—like Peggy Darnell—told us we were lucky to have an excuse to see Mr. McMann every day.

She also told us there was going to be a party at Dan O’Keefe’s house Saturday night. I felt conflicted, like I shouldn’t be breaking the terms of Bobby’s contract. I didn’t want to treat him like a joke the way other people were, but I also knew I wasn’t a jock like Cynthia Weaver. He’d said we could have a beer or two, after all.

“Hey, it’s the ball-kicking lesbos.”

Paul was the first person to see us, and he shouted over the noise when we walked into Dan’s house. I had actually been daydreaming about Bobby as Candace and Tina talked about . . . I actually don’t know what, when Paul’s voice rattled me back into the moment. The house was vibrating with music from Savage Hunger, a band headed up by Rick Spellman, a senior who should have graduated two years ago. If his grades matched his band’s abilities, it was no wonder he still hadn’t gotten his diploma.

“Go to hell, Paul,” I said.

“‘Go to hell, Paul,’” he mimicked in a singsong voice that sounded nothing like me. Candace gave him the finger.

We made our way to the keg in the corner of Dan’s basement, where Reggie Stanton was handing out red Solo cups. He was a second-string quarterback with a mustache that he was extremely proud of, and that currently had beer foam clinging to its dark hairs. Over the summer, Candace had decided he was cute, but I thought her interest was entirely based on the fact that he’d wolf-whistled and winked at her on his way out of Wojo’s.

“Oh look, our new lady athletes,” he sneered, making a show of handing us cups.

“Is McMann gonna teach you how to do headers? ’Cause if not, I can show you,” said Keith Barnes as he gyrated his hips while pretending to be holding the back of, I guess, a woman’s head.

“You wish, Keith,” Candace said. But then she put her hand over her mouth and laughed, and her boobs jiggled. Reggie watched. “It’s not like the team is this serious thing. It’s just fun.”

“I think it’s cool,” chimed in George Tomczak, who’d wandered over from a corner of the basement. “Soccer is a really athletic game. You must be in great shape to make the team.” He directed his praise at all of us, but he gave Candace a special look. She covertly turned toward me and Tina and pinched her nose. We called George “Garbage Breath” because his was always foul, like he’d gargled with sour milk and tuna water.

“Thanks, George,” Candace said, but she was looking at Reggie the whole time. Reggie sidled up to whisper something to her and she giggled again. I wanted to pull her away, but I knew Reggie was her bad decision to make.

At least George got the hint. He nodded to Tina and me and said, “Well, good luck, fellow Pirates,” and slipped away before Tina and I could even offer a half-hearted thanks. But it was better not to encourage him.

Tina sighed as we took our first sips of watery beer. “I miss Todd,” she said, and it took me a second to remember who Todd even was: her boyfriend, in Milwaukee. They met in seventh grade and still saw each other when Tina visited her