“It’s nuggets day!” Jessi cheered the next day at lunch. She slid into the seat next to me and put down her lunch tray holding milk, an apple, and a pile of chicken nuggets. “I’m glad Mom gave me lunch money today.”
“Lucky!” I said. “I’ve got turkey rollups again.”
“Salad for me,” Frida chimed in. “Miriam says to avoid fried foods, but those nuggets look really good.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Jessi said, putting a protective hand over her plate.
I glanced over at Emma, who hadn’t even opened up her bento box.
“What do you have today, Emma?” I asked.
She blinked. “Me? Oh. Vegetable sushi, I think,” she replied. “Does anyone know where Zoe is? Is she out sick?”
“No. She was in my Spanish class,” Frida replied. “Why, what’s up?”
Emma just frowned. Now, it wasn’t unusual for one of us to be missing at lunch. Mostly the five of us sat together. But sometimes Frida ate with the drama club, or Jessi sat with Cody.
“Earth to Emma?” Frida asked.
Emma shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been wanting to talk to her about something, but . . .” She sighed. “There’s no point.”
“Don’t bottle up your feelings like that, Emma!” Jessi said. “If you’ve got something to say to Zoe, just say it! It’s not healthy to keep things inside you. Unless they’re nuggets.” She popped one into her mouth.
Emma smiled, and then Frida started talking about this old movie she had seen with Miriam, and Emma was fine.
Until practice that afternoon.
• • •
“We’ve all got to remember the pressure that is on our goalies,” Coach Flores said at practice. “So we’ll all be taking a turn in the goal today.”
A lot of the Kicks groaned, but Emma and Zarine, who played goal, both gave shouts of excitement as they high-fived. We had done this drill before, and it was intense.
“Devin, you’re up first,” Coach Flores said. I sighed. On a great team the players knew what it took to succeed in every position. These kinds of drills made us stronger overall. Yet they weren’t easy.
I slipped on the goalie gloves as I headed into the goal, and braced myself. The Kicks lined up to launch balls at me as fast as they could.
Jessi was first. She grinned as Coach yelled, “Go!” Then Jessi ran up to kick the ball.
It came flying at me, high and fast, and I had to jump up to block it. I had no sooner dealt with that ball than another ball came barreling at me, this one at my feet. I dove for it, but it skidded through my hands and landed firmly in the back of the net.
“Emma, you’re my hero,” I panted as my turn was over and she took my place.
“I make it look easy, don’t I?” She winked as she slid the gloves on.
I felt much more comfortable facing the goal, lining up with the others to take my shot. Emma blocked every ball that came her way, except for one.
After everyone had taken their turn in the goal, we played a short scrimmage. When practice was over, I headed to the locker rooms with the other Kicks, until I remembered I had promised Sasha that I would ask Coach Flores for advice.
I jogged back to the field. Coach Flores was putting soccer balls into a large mesh bag.
“Coach, you got a second?” I asked.
Coach Flores straightened up. “Always for you, Devin. What’s up?”
“So, the game on Saturday, with the Roses? I was talking to Sasha from that team, and she’s really upset,” I explained. “Sasha says her coach is only focused on everyone having fun, not on winning. But the problem is, they are not having fun, and they are not winning, either.
Coach Flores gave me a rueful grin. “Sounds familiar, huh? I seem to remember another coach who had the same problem.”
“Yep, but now you are the best coach ever!” I assured her. “Sasha wants to talk to her coach about how she’s feeling, but she’s nervous. I told her I’d ask you for advice.”
“I’ve met Coach Doyle,” Coach Flores said. “She’s an English teacher at Santa Flora. I know she doesn’t know too much about soccer. The only reason she volunteered to coach the team is because there was no one else to do it. Without Coach Doyle, the Roses wouldn’t even exist.”
“That’s what Sasha said,” I told her. “That’s why she doesn’t want to hurt Coach Doyle’s feelings by telling her that everyone on the team is unhappy.”
Coach Flores nodded. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to get in touch after Saturday’s game. It looks like Coach Doyle could use a little help. I’ll reach out to her.”
“That would be great!” I said. “What should I tell Sasha?”
“Encourage Sasha to talk to her,” Coach Flores replied. “I don’t think she’ll get upset. I know she wants to do a good job for the team.”
I beamed. “Thanks, Coach!” I said, and I felt great, like I had just solved a big problem. I knew Coach would come through!
Coach Flores smiled at me. “It’s the least I can do, Devin. I feel blessed that you felt like you could talk to me about how you were feeling. Now the Kicks are playing great and everyone is having fun—everything I could have hoped for as a coach.”
As I walked back to the locker room, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I was eager to grab my phone out of the locker so that I could text Sasha and let her know what had happened.
But I couldn’t text Sasha right away, because when I walked into the locker room, I found Emma and Zoe squaring off. Emma had her arms crossed defensively in front of her, and Zoe’s cheeks were flushed red. Jessi shot me a warning glance, her eyebrows raised.
“Why didn’t you sit with us today at lunch?” Emma was asking Zoe.
I looked at Jessi. Emma had apparently taken her advice to talk to Zoe.
Zoe looked down at the locker room floor. “Sometimes you eat with the kids from the Tree Huggers club. Who cares?”
Emma frowned. “Maybe it wouldn’t be weird if you were answering my texts, but it’s like you’re not even talking to me. Are you mad at me or something?”
Zoe shook her head. “No.”
Emma snorted. “I’m the one who should be mad, anyway. You totally flaked on the fan club meeting. You didn’t even tell me you weren’t going to come.”
Jessi and I exchanged glances but didn’t say anything. Zoe had tried to tell Emma, but Emma wouldn’t—or didn’t want to—listen.
“I tried to tell you I’ve been busy with some other stuff,” Zoe said. Now she also crossed her arms protectively. “I’ve been doing things with my new friends from the art club, and I wanted to eat with them to talk about a project we’re going to start. I didn’t realize I needed your permission to do that.”
Ouch! I cringed. Jessi and I once again exchanged looks, and this time both of our eyebrows were practically on the ceiling.
“I thought friends talked about things,” Emma shot back. “Not got permission from each other.”
“I’ve gotta go,” Zoe replied as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. “My mom is waiting for me in the parking lot.”
“Fine. I’ve got to go too.” Emma turned her back toward Zoe as she shoved her practice gear into her gym bag before hurrying out of the locker room.
Zoe grabbed her gear and walked out a few seconds later. Jessi and I just stared at each other, our mouths hanging open. The other Kicks were clearing out, too, but Jessi and I hung back so we could talk about what had just happened.
“Well, that was awkward,” Jessi said finally.
“Tell me about it,” I said. “Emma and Zoe never argue. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Jessi replied. “But if this keeps up, we’re going to have to take sides.”
That startled me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if they keep arguing like this, we’re going to have to figure out which one is right, and then convince the other one that she’s wrong,” she replied.
“But that’s impossible!” I said. “I mean, Emma is partly wrong, but Zoe is definitely acting weird.”
Jessi shrugged. “Maybe they’ll make up and we won’t have to deal with it.”
“I hope so,” I said, and I meant it. I did not want to have to choose sides in a battle between Emma and Zoe!