scanning the field, the stands. Where is he? She feels her senses sharpening, a focus taking hold.
Eventually, he comes out of the heavy metal doors to the side of the field. He’s carrying a duffel bag, presumably full of their varsity jerseys. He stops on the sidelines, watching them.
The girls toss their gear down on the sideline bench, directly across from where Coach is standing. Mel leads them to the center of the field, slinging an arm over Luci’s shoulders.
“I want you to lead warm-ups today,” Mel says with a tender touch on her head.
“Are you sure?”
“Captain’s orders.”
“What about Coach?”
“Don’t worry. We’ve got your back.”
The girls circle around Luci.
She pulls her left arm across her body for one, two, three. Clap.
She pulls her right arm across her body for one, two, three. Clap.
Luci tries not to watch Coach too closely but she does notice his mouth twist. And then, as she moves from tiny arm circles to big arm circles, he walks toward them, toting his duffel bag, easy and unhurried. As if this is all going according to his plan. As if he were not the slightest bit unnerved.
Except Luci knows he is. She can see the sweat rings under his arms.
There’s something delightfully reassuring in how transparent he suddenly is to her. Not only that, but Mel’s decision to have the girls play him this way is clearly the perfect choice. They would have gained nothing by storming into his classroom and pointing fingers, hurling accusations. He would have thought them hysterical. But this, to have cut him off from his one source of power before he was even aware of it, is beyond satisfying.
And she can tell the other girls feel the same way. All of them are standing proud and tall when he finally reaches them.
“Everyone have a good nap? Ready to play?”
Luci hugs her right knee to her chest for one, two, three. Clap.
Then her left knee for one, two, three. Clap.
Coach begins to stroll around their circle as if taking attendance.
“This is funny. You girls are funny. I like your little pinny statement.”
The girls are silent. But it doesn’t mean there isn’t a ton of communication happening between them. Little glances, wry smiles, head nods. All symbols of encouragement. The girls checking in on one another.
His face hardens. “Where’s Phoebe?” His eyes narrow on Mel. “What happened to Phoebe, Mel?”
Luci claps a position change. The girls step their legs apart into a wide V shape, cleats touching cleats, and bend forward to touch their toes. Mel sees her strategy and gives a small, grateful nod.
“Okay, look. I see what you girls are—”
Luci clears her throat and begins to sing the Wildcat fight song to drown him out. They all join in.
We are the Wildcats, the navy blue and white,
We are the Wildcats, always ready for a fight!
Don’t mess with the Wildcats, we won’t accept defeat,
For we are the Wildcats, and we just can’t be beat!
Three cheers for the Wildcats, your honor we’ll defend,
’Cause when you’re a Wildcat, you’re a Wildcat till the end!
The referee runs over to the center. He’s got his whistle in his mouth. “You girls have jerseys or what?”
Coach straddles his duffel bag, crosses his arms and says smugly, “Nope.”
But Mel quickly adds, “Our pinnies should be fine, right? It’s only a scrimmage.”
The referee looks from Coach to Mel to Coach. Something’s going on, but he doesn’t seem to want to get involved. And the girls are clearly ready to play.
“Yeah. I’m fine with it. Finish up your stretches, girls, and then I’ll need captains for the coin toss.”
She smiles sunshine. “You got it.”
Coach looks stricken. An itchy red flush creeps up his neck.
“Oh my gosh, you guys!” Ali says. “Look at Buddy!”
Across the field, the Oak Knolls bulldog has spotted the girls and is straining at his leash, barking excitedly, his tag wagging. He pulls so hard that the Oak Knolls coach loses her grip on the leash, and he sprints over to them, bounding into the center of their circle, bouncing and tail wagging, and trying to lick all their faces.
Coach, completely thrown for a loop, launches into a new angry tirade.
“So you girls think you don’t need a coach? You think you can have a season without me? Who do you girls think you are?”
It’s clear to Luci that these are questions Coach is asking himself. He’s finally starting to put it together. Realizing how screwed he is.
Unfortunately, the clock’s run out. It’s game over.
So Luci, with her hands on her hips, decides to just give Coach the answers. “We are the Wildcats. And as of this moment, you’re fired. Now get the fuck off our field.”
Whistle.