girls who are referred to as, simply, Wildcats. That’s how tight they are.
Ali stretches past her open roofline, momentarily changing the sound of the air. “Anyway, Grace, when I saw you strip that pass from Marissa, I knew you’d make varsity.” She reaches over and pinches Grace’s arm playfully. “I bet Coach starts you tomorrow.”
Though today’s workout was maybe the hardest thing she’s ever physically endured, Grace feels a sudden zip of new, excited energy pumping through her body, a transfusion brought on, perhaps, by so many of her dreams coming true in quick succession. She twists in her seat so she can look at Ali head-on. “Well. If I am that lucky, I want you to know that I’m going to be all over Darlene Maguire tomorrow.”
Ali stiffens. “Do you know her?” She turns down the volume of the music.
Grace clears her throat. “Me? No. Not personally.” But everyone knows of Darlene Maguire. She is the reason why the Oak Knolls Bulldogs beat the Wildcats in the championship game last season. Darlene scored on Ali twice, the only two goals of the match, a couple of seconds apart, near the end of the second half. Grace now wishes she hadn’t mentioned Darlene Maguire, but for whatever reason, she keeps talking, explaining. “I made a point to watch her at Kissawa this summer. She has basically one move, which is to make defenders think she’s slowing up to take a shot, but then breaking into a sprint and beating them into the key.”
Ali manages a small nod, too small for Grace to pretend it affirms anything she’s just said. Instead it appears to be punctuation in a conversation Ali is having with herself.
Grace turns back to the windshield. Shit.
Ali eventually says, “I went to a special goalie skills camp this summer. That’s why I wasn’t at Kissawa.” She swallows. “I mean, I don’t know if anyone said anything about me not being there.…”
“No,” Grace says. “No one said anything to me.”
She feels bad for even bringing any of this up. Of course Ali would take the Wildcats’ championship loss super personally. Though it’s not just on her. The defenders didn’t have her back. The offense didn’t score. Mel hadn’t managed a single goal after Phoebe’s injury, which was why the Wildcats tied the last two regular-season games before the championship game zero to zero. Though if Kearson had stepped up and played better in Phoebe’s stead, maybe Mel could have?
But there’s no way Grace is going to dig into any of that right now. Not when the atmosphere in the classroom post-tryouts was so exuberant. Not when Phoebe has been cleared to play again. Not when Coach came back for another season. Not when the Wildcats seem more determined than ever to make a comeback.
Ali seems to be thinking the same thing. She takes a deep, cleansing breath. “It’s going to feel so good when we beat Oak Knolls tomorrow.”
“So fucking good,” Grace says.
Ali cracks up laughing. And any lingering awkwardness floats up and out of the Jeep’s open top.
* * *
Grace kicks the front door closed behind her. “Nana! I’m ho-ome!” she sings, and sashays into the living room, excited to spill her good news.
Nana’s not in her favorite armchair, though the seat cushion remains concave despite her absent weight. Instead, Grace finds Chuck—or a lump of blankets she assumes is her brother—sleeping on the living room couch. He has the window shades pulled down, cartoons flashing bright colors on mute.
“Nana went to the store.” Chuck rolls over under the blankets.
“Shit. Sorry.” She sets her gear down quietly, leans her stick against the wall. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”
Before he ventured into the city with his friends last night, Grace told Chuck she wouldn’t need him to pick her up at the high school the following day. Her thinking? If Grace made varsity, one of her new teammates would take her home. And if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have to cry about it in front of him.
A couch cushion muffles Chuck’s yawn. “What’s got you so cheery?”
“Oh. Nothing. Go back to sleep.” Before tiptoeing out of the room, she picks up her field hockey stick and, with a quick flick of her wrist, fires one of Nana’s crossword puzzle books stacked on the side table at Chuck’s body. “Sweet dreams.”
Grace knows plenty of siblings who spend their adolescence totally ignoring each other. But Chuck, perhaps out of lonely necessity, was always more than willing to share the things