Where are you, Ms. Perez? Melina Stern wondered as she gripped the chain-link fence around the athletic field and stretched her quadriceps. She let out a frustrated sigh.
Today was the Delano Middle School soccer team’s first day of practice. All the girls had been busy stretching and warming up for the past fifteen minutes. But the coach, Ms. Perez, was a no-show.
Nora Kahn came up to Melina and jogged in place. “Maybe you should just go home,” she said. She flashed a sly grin, like a big bad wolf. “I can lead practice today.”
Melina and Nora had been playing on school teams, at soccer camps, and in after-school intensives together since they were four. They were teammates, but they had also become something else — rivals.
“You’re hilarious,” Melina said, reaching for her toes to stretch her hamstrings and calves. “I can wait just as long as you can.”
The other girls were warming up too, but they kept an eye on the two strikers. Now that Nora and Melina were in eighth grade, the team expected their best players to lead them.
“I have an idea,” Melina said, straightening up. She called out to the group, “Why don’t we do the captain vote? Get it out of the way while we wait.”
For an instant, Melina saw Nora frown in fear, clearly caught off guard. If Melina didn’t know her so well, she might have missed it. Then it was gone, and the sinister grin was back.
“Sounds like a plan,” Nora agreed. She turned to the team. “I nominate Melina Stern.”
Melina shot her rival a look. “And I nominate Nora Kahn,” she replied.
Nora smiled big. “Thanks. Any other nominees?”
When no one said anything, Nora continued. “Vote by a show of hands? Sound good?”
Melina noticed some of the girls shuffling uncomfortably, but no one spoke up. That seemed good enough for Nora.
“Great,” Nora said, clapping her hands together. “Raise your hands to vote for, um . . . me!”
Five or six girls raised their hands. Melina thought seventh grader Ginger Adams was only doing it because Nora was watching.
But the small number of hands gave Melina a huge confidence boost. She stepped forward. “And who votes for me?” she asked.
The rest of the hands went up. Melina grinned. “Looks like a landslide,” she whispered to Nora.
For the first time Melina could remember, Nora couldn’t muster a smile at all.
“Ladies, ladies,” called a familiar voice. Melina looked up and saw Ms. Perez, eighth-grade history teacher and soccer coach, striding onto the athletic field. “So sorry I’m late.”
Melina waved and ran to greet her. As she went, she noticed the coach was still in her teaching clothes — black pants and a white blouse, even her sensible black shoes. And she wasn’t carrying a big mesh bag of soccer balls, either.
That’s weird, Melina thought. What’s going on?
“Hi, Melina!” Ms. Perez said, giving Melina a hug when she reached her. “Sorry I was so late.”
“Hi, Coach! That’s all right,” Melina replied. She started walking with Ms. Perez back toward the team. “We’ve just been warming up.”
Ms. Perez sighed and stopped at the edge of the field. “I wish I’d been as productive this afternoon as you girls have been.”
“What happened?” Melina asked.
“I’ve been on the phone since the last bell rang,” Ms. Perez explained. She shook her head. “But some things can’t be fixed.”
Melina frowned. Her coach was obviously upset. “Maybe this will cheer you up,” she offered. “We did the captain vote while we waited — I won!”
“Oh, Melina,” Ms. Perez said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” Melina said, beaming proudly.
“But I’m sorry to say . . . you won’t get to be captain,” the coach went on.
Melina’s heart seemed to sink into her stomach. “What? Why not?” she asked. “We voted fair and square. Even Nora’s okay with the team’s choice.”
“That’s just the thing,” Ms. Perez said, looking out over the crew of soccer players. “The team doesn’t get a choice, because this year there isn’t going to be any team at all.”