Page 94 of Rock Bottom Girl

She kicked the ball, sending it straight to Ruby’s feet at the top of the penalty box. Ruby didn’t bother trapping it, she just swung away with that long-ass leg of hers.

The buzzer signaled the end of the game and warred with the shouts of the crowd. I didn’t hear either. I was too busy screaming my freaking head off because the ball—that glorious, glorious ball—was in the back of the net. The Barn Owls had their W. I had my victory.

Vicky and I charged the field with the rest of the girls. The JV team jumped the short fence and joined us in our ecstatic sprint. We collided, a big, blue pile of screaming estrogen on the goal line. Varsity, JV, first string, second string, coaches, players. For that moment, that shining, victorious moment, we were all one.

Somehow we made it to mid-field and lined up to high-five the Blue Jays.

“Nice game, Coach. Girls looked great out there tonight,” the Blue Jays coach told me.

“Thank you,” I said. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face if I tried.

Then I was being turned around and lifted off the ground.

“You did it, Mars!” Jake swung me around under the stadium lights, and everything was just about perfect.

* * *

On our way out,we were stopped every ten feet by fans. My players were thrilled, their parents were ecstatic, and according to Haruko, the faculty was happy that I finally shoved a W in Coach Vince’s face. He’d left abruptly in the third quarter when it became apparent that a blow-out was not going to happen.

I didn’t know when Lisabeth and Steffi Lynn ducked out, and I didn’t care enough to ask.

“This is so great!” Vicky said, strutting toward the concession stand to see if they had any leftover nachos. “I mean, not only did you get to shove this in that Neanderthal’s face, you also got to show Steffi Lynn how to coach.”

“Why would she care?”

Vicky stopped in her tracks. “No one told you?”

“Told me what?” I looked over my shoulder for Jake. He was in conversation with one of his students.

“She’s the one who took over coaching when their coach died last season.”

“Steffi Lynn is Hitler?” Once again, I realized too late that I needed to have my epiphanies more quietly when a dozen heads swiveled in my direction.

Vicky clamped a hand on my arm and dragged me a few steps away.

“I thought you knew! She went all dictator on them and made Lisabeth the queen of the evil universe.”

“Why doesn’t anyone tell me this shit?” I whined. “I could have done a lot better with this whole ‘Hey, I’m your new coach. I swear I’m not an ass’ thing!”

“Hey, Coach!”

I turned around and found the varsity team lined up behind me making the heart sign with their fingers.

“I think they know,” Vicky said, slapping me on the back.

41

Marley

We won our next match, an away game that Thursday. The girls were clicking on the field, and that was as gratifying as seeing those very nice final scores.

It was a different kind of bus ride home after a win.

I basked in the 4-2 victory to the sounds of happy teenagers who, for once, weren’t at each other’s throats. Things were going well for me. It was a new experience. And while I expected a shoe or a brick wall to drop on me at any moment, I was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

The cheerleader coach had paid me a visit to ask if I minded if she let her squad get a little more creative with their cheers at our games. The boys team had been throwing garbage at them during games. They were more than happy to switch to cheering for the girls. I was all for it.

Then there was the cute little wrapped package I found on my desk yesterday.