strangles her napkin. “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with our fight song.”
Grace makes a feeble attempt to link the two on the fly. “?‘Three cheers for the Wildcats, your honor we’ll defend’ … and I’m a defender!” Ali groans, but Grace stands her ground. “Does it really matter at this point?” And, instead of waiting for Ali’s comeback, Grace motions to their waitress and says, “Check please.”
* * *
Grace gives shotgun to Mel again on the ride from the Waffle House to the Walgreens. Ali stays silent on the ride, despite Mel’s best attempts to make small talk, and when Ali does talk, her voice is clipped, answers short. But when Mel asks her, Ali hands over her credit card, which Mel then passes to Grace.
They will get through this together. What other choice do they have?
The girls don’t bother to park, just leave the cars running in a line outside the store while Grace goes in by herself. The lights are way too bright.
Boxes of hair dye are spread in front of her. Smiling women looking their best. None looking like Grace.
What was the message Grace wanted to send with her blue hair tonight? That she wanted to belong? Or that she was different?
She can’t remember. She’s too tired. She picks Clairol in soft black.
* * *
Back at Mel’s house, the girls sneak down to the basement and hope to find Phoebe waiting for them, but she’s not there.
Mel gets Grace set up in the bathroom. “Do you need anything to do this?”
“Just a towel.” Quickly, Grace adds, “Not a nice one.”
“Do you want company? I’d be happy to sit with you.”
“It’s okay. You and the other girls get ready for bed.”
“I know you said it’s not a big deal to do this, but I just want to tell you that it’s a big deal to me.”
Grace mixes the dye and the developer. The room quickly fills with fumes of ammonia. She cracks a window.
Thirty minutes and it’ll be over.
Somewhere outside, Grace hears Ali getting into it with Mel again. She pouts, “I don’t get why her hair color is an issue at all.”
Mel says, “Come on, Ali. What is and what isn’t an issue is Coach’s call. You know that.”
Ali is insistent. “Grace did it for us, Mel.”
“I know. And she’s doing this for us too.”
Grace’s eyes fill up and she lowers herself down on the side of the tub.
While she’s glad to have worked out a way that dyeing her hair can help them, Grace knows in her heart that what Mel just said is wrong.
Grace isn’t doing this for her team. Because her team would never, ever ask her to.
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27
4:03 A.M.
PHOEBE
Phoebe’s not at all tired, even though she should be. Then again, Phoebe never sleeps great the night before a game. It doesn’t matter if they are playing a shitty team or one that could really give the Wildcats a run for their money. It’s always impossible to get comfortable in her bed, even with two Tylenol PMs and the new feather mattress topper she’d gotten as her big Hanukkah present. She’d spend the night flipping over from back to belly, kicking off her sheets, refluffing her pillow. The stress of knowing you aren’t sleeping when you need to be sleeping is its own particular kind of suck.
She’d think about the game all day too, which could be super unfortunate if she has a test or a project to present. This is one of the things Coach taught them. To visualize the game, how you are going to play it.
Right now Phoebe’s strategy is not to hold anything back.
Why would she, with nothing to lose?
Up until now, Phoebe has held on to her decision to play in the championship game as her own. It made her feel powerful. Strong. Even though she’d needed that little push from Coach. That’s why it was so hard for her to hear Mel talk the way she did tonight. Painting her like such an idiot for what she’d done. Reckless. Stupid.
How could Mel have it so twisted?
Phoebe wants every single one of her teammates to know it. She’s got the proof right here in Coach’s emails. That she was manipulated, played, lied to, her body sacrificed. And for what? So Coach could throw her under the bus and earn a good word for a new job he wanted?
Oh, she would fucking l o v e to call Coach out on what she’s discovered