Page 162 of Rock Bottom Girl

I turned the team loose so we could watch the Homecoming Court take their place at midfield. Surprising us all, Ruby had been nominated to the court. The girls pulled Ruby’s long braids out of their thick ponytail and draped them over one shoulder. Natalee had touched up her makeup during my woefully inept speech.

The other girls on the field were preptastic in plaid blazers and pencil skirts. Ruby stood out like a tall, gorgeous sore thumb in her grass-stained uniform. Tall and proud.

“Is that?” I squinted at the field.

“Yep. Ricky the cross-country kid. She asked him after he ran with us Sunday.”

“Nice going, Ruby.”

I noticed Milton and Ascher were both dates for blonde, skinny, field-hockey-playing queen nominees. I imagined Amie Jo was in the stands with a professional photographer and a telephoto lens capturing the moment for their Christmas card.

At least she and I weren’t wrestling on the field humiliating ourselves in front of a few thousand witnesses.

Bill Beerman took to the field with a wireless mic, and Vicky gripped my arm. “Here we go!”

Bill launched into an adorably awkward speech about the history of student democracy while everyone shuffled nervously.

My watch vibrated, and I peeked down at it.

Jake: Have time for an under-the-bleachers make-out sesh for old times’ sake?

I grinned. It was nice sharing a history with someone. Not just a co-worker that I’d met and befriended six months ago.

Things had changed. I wasn’t the terrified teenager with zero self-confidence anymore. I was an adult. An adult who could run four miles and handle a gym class full of twenty-five teenagers who would rather be texting. An adult who’d landed herself an incredible fake boyfriend. An adult who’d shed eight pounds since August and was coaching the Homecoming game instead of plotting how to ruin a classmate’s life. I never thought I’d be standing here in the middle of most of my hometown feeling good about myself.

Yet here I was. Wonders never ceased.

“And with that,” Bill said, “I’m proud to announce this year’s Culpepper High Homecoming Queen. Ruby King.”

“She won! She won!” Vicky was clawing her way through the sleeve of my jacket. But I was too busy jumping up and down and screaming to notice. My girls, God love them, exploded. They rushed the field and tackled our beautiful Homecoming Queen before last year’s queen could put the crown on her head.

I hugged Vicky hard and felt like tonight was the beginning of healing a whole lot of old wounds. It was a new beginning, a fresh start, and a redo all in one.

* * *

Ruby’sroyal win gave us the boost of confidence we were looking for. We took to the field with swagger, and the crowd, as if sensing the shift, was electrified. On the opening drive down the field, a defender fouled Natalee in the penalty area. And that sassy Korean fashionista drilled the ball in the lower left corner so hard I bet they were going to have to restring the net.

We were tied up 2-2, and I feltgood. I felt fucking wonderful.

We dominated, our offense crowding the Buglers’ defense on their half of the field. The Buglers managed a breakaway, and Angela thwarted it with one of her patented sliding tackles that had the crowd on its feet.

It was magic happening on that field, and I had goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold…or Jake’s mouth for once.

Ashlynn made a terrific diving save. My midfielders ran their asses off, showing no signs of exhaustion. We were riding high on a magic wave of energy as the minutes in the second half ticked down. The Buglers defense was strong but showing cracks.

“We’re gonna win this,” I said, feeling it in my bones. Confidence. Belief. My girls were going to take home a Homecoming victory and walk into that dance as heroes. And I was going to slow clap for them until my hands bled.

We were down to the last two minutes of the game. The clock was ticking down steadily. Each passing second taking us closer to the end of regulation play. I wasn’t nervous. I had a team full of women who needed to shower, change, and do full makeup for the dance. We werenotgoing into overtime.

“Barn Owls,” I shouted from the sideline, waving both arms toward the Buglers’ goal. It was our swing away signal. Full court press. All offense, all the time.

And just like that, the tempo of the game changed.

Rachel took off with the ball down the sideline while the rest of my forwards headed toward the goal. A tangle between two defenders sent the ball out of bounds on the sideline.

“Throw-in,” Vicky said. “Are you going to let her do it?”

Rachel was looking at me. “Oh, hell yeah.” I grinned and nodded, rolling my hands in a circle. “Heads and tails,” I called.