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“I mean, like, he’s judging us.”

“I’mjudging you, kid,” Coach said. “Suck it up. All right, Scott, place your ball.”

“It’s not fair she gets her boyfriend here,” Jensen mumbled under his breath. If only he knew how little Theo was helping my mental game right now. I was all over the place.

Theo positioned a ball on a plastic holder on the ten-yard line, and Scott, the first volunteer, approached him. Then he backed up and kicked. It made it cleanly through the uprights. Maybe I had more competition than just Jensen for this. I hadn’t really considered I’d have to beat out more than one person. I squared my shoulders. Jensen beat out twenty-four people for my coveted spot; I could beat three. The other new guy kicked with the same results.

“I’ll go next,” I said, stepping forward.

Jensen had stepped forward as well, and when I did, he stopped and held his arm out to the side like he was allowing me to go first. I didn’t say a word; my actions would speak for themselves.

“You got this,” Theo said when I approached.

“I need to concentrate, Theo. Don’t talk to me.”

He nodded, his eyes sad, his jaw tight.

He placed the ball on the holder. From the side I heard a whoop. I knew it was Deja, but I didn’t look over. I didn’t want Coach to think that I thought of this as a joke. I took my three steps back and one to the left.

I took a deep breath, then released it and drove forward.

Right before I got to the ball Jensen said loudly, “Don’t miss.”

I stutter-stepped, and my foot hit the ball at a weird angle; it shot straight out in front of me, skidding along the grass. I held back a curse.

Theo growled and went charging toward Jensen. Coach pulled him back by his shirt. “Cool off! Now! Go take a lap.”

Theo put his head down and jogged away.

Jensen could barely contain the smug smile on his face.

“Jensen,” Coach said. “No antics. But, Finley, there will be distractions during a game; you can’t let them get to you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Try again,” he said.

“She gets to try again?” Jensen whined.

“Of course she does. Now, mouth shut.”

This time I put away all thoughts of anything but the ball. I tried to forget the embarrassment of missing. Of other people judging me for it. I focused. This time I connected squarely. It wasn’t as strong a kick as I wanted it to be, but it made it, barely flying on the inside of the far right post. That definitely wasn’t going to get in Jensen’s head as much as I hoped it would. He proved that bykicking it right down the middle and celebrating with an eyebrow raise in my direction.

We each completed our other kicks at that distance, and then Coach moved us back ten yards. By this time, Theo was back from his lap around the field. His eyes were dark, and he glared at Jensen while we took turns kicking again.

At this distance, I got my rhythm and confidence back. I kicked it firmly straight down the center. After that I relaxed. As I relaxed and my kicks became more confident and sure, Jensen’s became more wild and weak. By the time we were finishing the thirty-yard line, he’d missed two kicks completely. Each flying far left. The other two kickers had each missed one. Aside from my first botched attempt, I hadn’t made another error.

“You haven’t given up the wedge kick yet, huh?” I heard Theo mutter after Jensen’s miss, making sure he was close enough to Coach so he could hear. Coach was making notes on his clipboard, I wasn’t sure what, but I hoped next to Jensen’s name it was something likeinconsistent wedge kicker.

Me winning could be good for ticket sales,I wanted to say, mocking one of the reasons they’d chosen Jensen for the podcast.I could bring in a new, different audience.I held my tongue because Jensen was spiraling. He didn’t need a push; he was getting there himself.

He missed one more kick at the next distance. After his miss, he picked up the plastic holder and threw it on the ground in frustration. It bounced and tumbled to a stop ten feet away. The new guys missed two kicks at that distance. I still had a perfect record. At this point, I was running on adrenaline and karma.

That energy took me through to the end, when after finishingmy last kick, over the outstretched hands of some defenders that had been brought over, Coach jotted something down on his clipboard, met my eyes, then said, “Where have you been? Super impressive.”

This time I gave Jensen the eyebrow pop as I freed myself from my helmet and joined the others waiting. I watched Jensen get his last kick blocked. He looked destroyed. He hung his head, and unlike before, when he’d thrown the holder in anger, he just gathered it like he was picking up a delicate egg and then jogged to where the ball had landed.

Next to me Theo said, “You know you did it, right?”