Lucy’s “Perfect” Summer (11 page)

“Flopping. We get a free kick out of it.”

Lucy felt herself go cold inside. She stood up without giving Rianna her hand.

Rianna struggled to her feet, wincing like a TV actor. “It’s easy when there’s only one official,” she said near Lucy’s ear. “Don’t try it in this game since I already did — ”

“Rianna — are you going to take the kick or not?”

“Can Lucy do it for me? My ankle really hurts.”

As if to prove it, Rianna limped over to the touchline and sank back to the ground. “I’ll be okay if I just sit here for a minute,” she said.

Coach Neely rubbed her own forehead. “All right — Lucy, take the kick.”

But it wasn’t fair. Rianna should be the one getting a penalty. Lucy marched toward Coach Neely, but something caught her waistband. She looked down to see Kayla tugging at her.

“Just take the kick,” she said in a voice as tiny as she was.

“But she — ”

“Don’t mess with her. She won’t get away with it in a real game anyway.”

Coach Neely straightened from inspecting Rianna’s ankle and tossed the ball to Lucy, who felt like she’d just shoplifted from Mr. Benitez’s store. If she scored for her team this way, it was as bad as if she was the one who’d faked being fouled. And there was a good chance she would score. A penalty kick was a free kick 12 yards from the goal line, with no defenders inside the penalty box. Only Taylor the goalie stood in her way, and Lucy knew she could fake her out.

But when Coach Neely blew the whistle, Lucy kicked the ball right to her. Taylor looked so surprised she almost missed it before she scooped the ball easily into her hands and put it back into play.

Lucy didn’t look at Rianna. She didn’t have to. She could feel her eyes drilling holes through her.

As soon as camp was over that day, Lucy raced to find Mr. Auggy.

J.J. was wrong. She couldn’t fix this, but their coach could.

She located him on the junior boys’ field where a pack of seven-and eight-year-olds were still smacking the ball around and calling for “Coach A” to “Watch this!” while he called back that it “really is time to leave, guys.” When he spotted Lucy, he made them all get their stuff and scoot.

“What’s up, captain?” he said. “You okay?”

Lucy wiped the sweat from her upper lip and shook her head.

“You’re not having fun on the Select Team?”

“No.”

To Lucy’s dismay, she felt tears threatening at the back of her throat. If she cried, it would just look like she was being a whiner. He had enough of that with Januarie.

She swallowed hard. “There’s this one girl,” she said. “I think she’s trying to get me to gang up with her against the rest of the team — and I’m not sure, but I think she — well, she fell down today, and I don’t think it was — ”

She stopped, becauseMr. Auggy was shaking his head at her. Mr. Auggy, who always listened.

“Sorry, captain,” he said. “But this sounds like girl drama. I know the girls on our team are done with that, but this is a new group — ”

“It isn’t just that!”

He smiled his small smile and motioned for her to walk with him. “I think you ought to talk to Coach Neely about this.”

“Coach Neely likes this girl! She doesn’t say anything to her when she’s bossy, and she’s all concerned about her ankle — ”

“Coach Neely’s good. She’s more hands-off than what you’re used to with me, but she’ll listen.”

Which was more than he was doing right now. Lucy’s eyes stung with disappointment.

“Speaking of coaches, I have a meeting,” he said. “But you talk to her tomorrow, okay?”

And say what? Lucy thought as she dragged herself toward the waiting car. If she told Coach Neely she thought Rianna was trying to cheat, would she even believe her? Rianna could say the same thing about
her
— and Coach at least paid attention to Rianna, especially now that she was all worried about her injury.

No, J.J. was wrong. She wasn’t the person to try to fix this.

Besides, the next day, Friday, Rianna didn’t show up for camp.

“Did Rianna drop out?” Sarah asked Coach Neely. Lucy heard the hope in her voice.

“I told her she had to have a doctor’s note before she could come back,” Coach said. “Camp rule for liability reasons. She’s probably having her ankle checked out.”

“I hope that appointment takes all day,” Patricia muttered.

Lucy smothered a smile.

“Don’t let Coach Neely hear you say that,” Sarah whispered as they gathered to pull soccer balls out of the bag.

“Why?” Waverly said.

Taylor snorted. “Because Rianna’s her pet.”

“I hate it when coaches have pets,” little Kayla said. “Ours does in Cloudcroft.”

“Yeah, well, this one thinks she, like, has a pedigree or something.” Sarah flipped her long ponytail. “I wish somebody would put her on leash.”

Lucy felt a little better. At least she had one thing in common with her team. Too bad it had to be we-all-despise-Rianna.

The “pet” appeared at the lunch break, without a leash, waving her doctor’s note and hopping up and down on her foot to show that she’d been miraculously cured. Lucy made her usual beeline, but Rianna got in front of her before she could even pick up her backpack.

“You messed up that free kick on purpose yesterday,” she said, instead of “hi.”

Lucy blinked at her and said, “Huh?” Rianna wasn’t the only one who could act.

Rianna pulled her off the field by her sleeve, smiling as if she were about to share some girl secret with her. Coach Neely grinned at them before she turned to flash her very white smile at Seth.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Rianna said when the two coaches were gone. “Look, they call us the Select Team, but let’s face it, me and you are the only ones that really deserve that name.”

“Everybody’s good,” Lucy said. She tried to pull away, but Rianna held on tighter to her shirt.

“They’re good, but they’re not great. You know we’re the team the ODP is gonna look at, don’t you?”

They weren’t going to look at cheaters.

Lucy wanted to say that. She even opened her mouth to let the words out. But Rianna squeezed harder and caught some of Lucy’s skin in her fingers.

“You don’t know how they play in the big cities,” she said through her teeth. “It’s dirty out there. I’m just telling you this because I like you: you can’t be a goody-goody rule-follower or they’ll run right over you. I’ve had girls trip me and pinch me and grab my clothes, and they get away with it. You have to learn to fight back.”

She finally let go of Lucy’s arm, but Lucy didn’t move. If she answered, that would mean this was real — and she so didn’t want it to be.

“I can either be your best friend or your worst enemy,” Rianna said. “And you don’t want me for your enemy.”

That was the first thing she said that Lucy thought was absolutely true. She waited until she could breathe again before she followed Rianna to the lunch table.

They didn’t play a practice game that afternoon because it was blistering hot. Lucy was grateful for that. But she still felt prickly all over when she got home, the same way she did when she was sitting in the dentist’s waiting room.

Inez greeted her with Lucy’s favorite warm
sopapillas
and honey and her Bible.

“I’m so bored, even Bible study sounds good,” Mora said. “Go figure.”

Inez folded her hands on her open Bible. “Today there is
buenos
noticias
for Senorita Esther.”

“That means ‘good news,’ ” Mora said.

Lucy didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. Mora looked disappointed.

“Senor King, he loves Senorita Esther from the moment he lays his eyes on her.”

Mora slapped the table. “I knew it.”

“She will be the queen.”

Good for her. Lucy wished somebody would make her queen.

The first thing she’d do would be to banish Senorita Rianna from the kingdom. Then buy the Los Suenos soccer field. Then put all her friends on the Select Team with her. Then she’d wipe out cheating —

“What is
wrong
with you?”

Lucy looked up at Mora, who was staring at Lucy’s hands, with good reason. Lucy had ripped her sopapilla into tiny pieces on her plate.

Inez was watching her too, but she just said, “We go on,” and ran her finger down the page. “Queen Esther, she still misses her
amigas
, and still she cannot say she is the Jew.”

“Yeah, but she’s got the Hot Hottie from Hottsville,” Mora said. “What more does she want?”

“Senor Cousin Mordecai, he visits her every day,” Inez continued. “This brings Senorita Esther the comfort. And he tells her the important things to do.”

Mora grunted. “What does she need him for? She’s the queen.” Inez put up a finger. “The queen cannot know everything. Senor Mordecai, he tells her two evil guards, they will kill the Senor King.”

Lucy got up on one knee. “How does he know?”

“He hears their plan.”

“Why didn’t he tell the king himself? I would.” Mora wiggled her eyebrows. “Then maybe he’d notice me and — ”

“He didn’t think the king would believe him, right?” This was all sounding so familiar, it was giving Lucy goose bumps.

“This is right,” Inez said. “So Senora Queen Esther, she goes to the king, and she tells him — and she says to him that Senor Mordecai was the one give her this information. Senor King is most grateful.”

“I bet he was.” Mora sighed with drama. “I bet he bought her, like, a bunch of jewelry — a Lexus — oh, wait, they didn’t have cars — ”

Lucy slumped back in her chair. This was definitely like her situation with J.J. and the whole cheating thing. But she wasn’t a queen, and King Hawke wasn’t likely to be “most grateful” unless she had proof.

Inez had by now closed her Bible and was busy at the sink with Lucy and Dad’s dinner. Mora opened her cell phone and poked at the keys with her thumbs the way she was always doing. Lucy watched, uninterested, until something occurred to her.

“Does that have a camera?” Lucy said.

Mora gave her a blank look. “Of course it does.”

“Can you take, like, movies with it? Like even when people don’t know it?”

“Oh, yeah, see — ” Mora stopped and lifted an eyebrow at Lucy. “Why?”

Lucy glanced at Inez’s back and then at Mora. When she nodded toward the back door, Mora’s eyes took on a gleam.

“We’re going outside, Abuela,” Mora said, way too casually, and herded Lucy out onto the steps.

“Okay, I know you’re planning something, Lucy,” she said before the door was even closed. “It’s all over your face. And by the way, don’t start trying to make it as a sneak. You’ll never pull it off.”

Lucy opened her mouth, but the words stayed crowded in her throat. Was she actually about to get Mora to help her with some scheme when Mora’s little plans always ended up making everything worse that they were to start with? Lucy shoved the whole idea back down where it came from and shrugged. “I’m being stupid. Forget it.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Mora folded her arms and wiggled her head. “You have no idea how boring it is around here — except when I’m at dance class — with everybody off at soccer camp. Abuela lets me watch way more TV than usual, but even I can only take so much
Days of
Our Lives
, if you know what I mean.”

Lucy didn’t.

Mora leaned forward, cell phone in hand. “Let me help you with this plan of yours — please — before I go nuts.”

“I don’t have a plan,” Lucy said.

“I could help you think of one.” Mora slanted her eyes. “I can be very crafty.”

“I know,” Lucy said, rolling hers. “But things are ‘crafty’ enough already.”

“All right,” Mora said. “But if I die of boredom, it’s going to be your fault.”

Great. That was one more thing to add to the list of stuff she was supposed to do something about.

Maybe, just maybe, she would rather be bored.

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