Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys (5 page)

She was relieved when she saw that just off the bustling minefield of the standard-issue, double-long tables was a quiet little courtyard dotted with old picnic tables and crooked benches. Only a few random loners sat out there, away from the crowd. It was Megan's utopia.

After choosing a safe-looking deli sandwich, a bag of chips, and a soda from the lunch line, Megan backed through the courtyard door and dropped down at the first empty table.

Shoulders slumped, brain tired, Megan slowly unwrapped her sandwich. All she had to do was get through a couple more classes and then she would be on the soccer field, where she really belonged. She only hoped that the secretary had been right this morning when she'd told Megan that the teams were still taking new-student walk-ons. Betsy didn't seem to be entirely certain about anything except the fact that she was smarter than Megan and everyone else in the room. She had sighed whenever anyone had asked her a question, as if they should already know the answer, but then it had taken her ten minutes to look up the proper response.

“Ah! Here it is!” she had announced, pulling a slip of paper from a folder on her desk. “Coach Leonard is the coach of the girls' soccer team. The team has been practicing since August 20, but new students are welcome to try out. New students should report to the soccer field behind the school on the first day of classes for a tryout.”

She lowered her glasses and looked at Megan smugly. “Hope you brought some sneakers with you, dear.”

“Never leave home without 'em,” Megan replied, patting her backpack.

Now her cleats were tied to the hook strap on her bag to make more room for her many books. She wondered if any of the girls from the team had noticed this in the halls—if they knew she would be coming to practice. She glanced through the window wall into the cafeteria, trying to pick out the girls on the team. Were they any good? Were they
too
good for her to make it?

Megan had a sudden itch for one of her father's patented pep talks.
Too bad he's a few thousand miles away,
she thought, swallowing hard. She was not going to think about her parents. There were a couple more hours to get through and she couldn't be wallowing now.

The door behind her squeaked open and Miller walked out, clutching his tray. His eyes, as always, were riveted on the ground. He made a beeline for the table at the back-right corner of the courtyard, placed his tray down, and sat. He pulled a portable radio out of his black backpack and slipped the headphones over his ears. He happened to look up and saw Megan watching him. For a split second, neither of them moved.

“Hi, Miller,” Megan said finally.

“The Yankees are playing their hundred and thirty-fifth game of the season,” he replied. Then he flipped a switch and Megan heard the tinny voice of an announcer come to life. He set the radio on the table and went about seasoning his bowl of soup with the plastic salt- and pepper shakers on the table. Megan noticed that his soda can, his bottle of juice, and his snack pack were lined up on his tray in height order. He moved the snack pack over, placed the salt- and pepper shakers between it and the juice bottle, and sat back, satisfied.

TooDamn-Funky:
what do u mean funky stuff going on down there??? u cant just say that & not xplain!!!

Kicker5525:
OMG This morning Evan woke up and came out of his room with his boxers gaping right open. His cartoon frog boxers.

TooDamn-Funky:
OH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! u didn't actually c skin, did u?

Kicker5525:
OH GOD! No! I didn't look.

TooDamn-Funky:
hey! u live in testosteroneville now. get used to it!

The soccer team was gathered on the bleachers when Megan approached. The coach—a tall, muscular woman with short dark hair—had her back to Megan as she spoke with the team. It was a long walk across the field to join them and by the time Megan got there, every one of the players was watching her. She dropped her bag on the bottom step and the coach stopped mid-sentence.

“You must be the new girl I've heard so much about,” she said, glancing down at Megan's dirty cleats.

“I guess,” Megan said. Apparently she had been right to assume that some of her future teammates would spot her cleats in the hall. “I'm Megan Meade.”

“Coach Leonard,” she responded. “What position do you play, Megan?”

“Center forward,” Megan replied.

Someone blurted a laugh that was followed by a round of others. The whispering that had begun on her arrival intensified and a couple of the girls shook their heads in obvious pity. The coach, however, seemed unfazed.

“All right,” she said with a nod. “Girls, why don't we scrimmage and see what Megan can do? Tina, you sit this one out.”

Tina, the redheaded girl who had smiled at Megan that morning, grimaced and sat back in her seat while most of the other girls climbed to the ground. She handed Megan a balled-up red vest, which Megan quickly pulled on over her T-shirt.

“Thanks,” Megan said.

“Yeah. Break a leg,” Tina said sarcastically. So much for that smile.

Megan jogged out to the field and joined the other red shirts on the west side. She greeted the girls on the line and a couple reached out to slap hands with her, but no names were exchanged. Once they got on the field, these girls were all business. Megan liked that.

Coach walked out to midfield with a soccer ball and stepped in between Megan and the opposing center forward. The other girl was tall and tan with broad shoulders, a lean waist, and killer legs. Her blond hair had been highlighted and was pulled into a thick ponytail. She was wearing a little bit too much makeup, but Megan could tell by the fierce look in her eyes that the girl was no Barbie. This was going to be interesting.

The ball dropped, the whistle blew, and it was game on. Megan quickly got control of the ball and started upfield. She passed to the girl on her right and ran ahead, zooming past her first defender, who actually tripped herself up trying to change direction. The ball came back to her seconds later and Megan was rushed hard but deftly popped the ball right through the legs of the halfback. She took the ball downfield, using some
fancy footwork to trip up another defender. She raced toward the goal virtually untouched. The goalie, from the look on her face, was completely flummoxed. Megan faked left and kicked right. The girl had no chance.

“Score!” Coach Leonard called out as the ball whizzed into the back of the net.

Megan's teammates crowded around her, slapping her on the back and showering her with high fives. That had been a little too easy. Megan hoped that the starting goalie was at the other end of the field.

“Nice one, Megan!” Coach Leonard called. “The rest of you are making me look bad! Let's go!”

This time the other center forward glowered full force at Megan when they toed the line. “Beginner's luck,” she said.

Megan ignored her, knowing she would formulate a comeback five hours from now—one she would never have the guts to deliver anyway. Instead, she'd just make this girl eat her dust.

At the whistle, Megan got the ball again, but this time, Blondie took it right away with a deft, behind-the-legs steal. It happened so fast Megan never saw it coming and she had to laugh as she chased the girl down.

“Nice move,” she shouted, impressed.

“Get used to it,” the girl replied.

She passed the ball right by Megan, who was two seconds too late to block it. Her teammate took it upfield but quickly lost it. The ball came flying through the air toward Megan. It was a perfect angle for a head pass, so Megan jumped up to take it. But before forehead ever touched leather, she was blindsided—a
full-contact hit jarred every bone in her body and threw her to the ground. By the time she looked up again, Blondie was halfway down the field with the ball.

“Watch it, Hailey!” Coach Leonard called out.

“Wow,” Megan said under her breath as Hailey scored. “Someone's not messing around.”

She knew that Hailey's hit was a blatant foul that probably would have earned her a yellow card in a real game, but Megan liked the fact that the girl wasn't afraid to play rough. Every team needed fearless players like that. And from what she had already seen, Hailey had some of the best moves going.

Maybe even better than mine,
Megan thought. Megan was used to being a star on the soccer field, but she knew she'd be okay sharing the spotlight with this girl. She just hoped that Hailey's playing center forward didn't keep her from making the squad.

A few minutes later, the whistle blew and everyone trotted off the field. Megan jogged over to Hailey and put out her hand.

“Nice moves out there,” she said. “Never saw you coming.”

Hailey looked at Megan's palm like it was covered in ticks. “Yeah, most people don't. That's why I've been All-State for three years in a row and why you'll never get my spot.”

Stunned, Megan slowed her steps and let Hailey jog ahead, where she slapped palms with Tina and a few other girls.

“Don't mind Hailey. Nobody likes her.”

Another player, the girl who had played right flank on Megan's side, had caught up with her. She had a powerful-looking build, and most of her shoulder-length blond hair had fallen
free of its ponytail and now hung in clumps around her clean, sweat-shining face. Megan had noticed her on the field. She was one of the faster girls on the team.

“Not even them?” Megan asked, looking at Hailey's friends.

“She pays them,” the girl joked. “As her sister, I get to turn down the money and say what I really think.”

“You're
her
sister?” Megan asked, surprised.

“I know. I'm, like,
so
much prettier than her,” the girl said, batting her eyelashes comically. “Anyway, I'm Aimee Farmer. Little sister to Hailey ‘Queen Bitch' Farmer.”

“Ah,” Megan said, shaking hands with her. “I'm Megan.”

“I know. You were in my chemistry class this afternoon, right?” Aimee asked.

“Oh God. You were there? Sorry, I don't remember anything after I almost burned my lab partner's eyebrows off.”

Aimee laughed. “It wasn't that bad. So . . . you were amazing out there. Where did you learn to play like that?”

“I played on a lot of boys' teams growing up,” Megan explained as they reached the sideline, where the rest of the team was sucking on their water bottles. “And last year my team was state champion in Texas.”

“Wow. Texas. Big state.”

“Tell me about it.”

“All right, let's run some drills!” Coach Leonard called out. A few girls grabbed the orange cones that were stacked up next to the bleachers and took them back out to the field. “Megan, see me after practice and we'll talk about a spot on the team.”

“Sure, Coach,” Megan said.

“Depose my sister, please,” Aimee said under her breath. “I'll love you forever.”

Megan laughed as she and Aimee jogged back onto the field. A familiar and exciting warmth overcame her from head to toe and she relished it, even as she thought with a pang of Tracy and the last time she had felt it. Megan had a feeling she had just made her first new friend.

 *  *  *

“Well, Megan, you've got some obvious talent—I don't have to tell you that,” Coach Leonard said as they stood in the hallway outside the girls' locker room.

Hair still dripping wet from the shower, Megan crossed her arms over her chest and tried to quell the butterflies inside. She had to make this team. Without the familiarity of soccer practice and drills and games, she would be totally lost.

“But I've already got a starting center forward and she's been my center forward for three years.”

Megan gripped herself a little harder.

“So, I have a proposition for you,” Coach Leonard said.

“What's that, Coach?” Megan asked hopefully.

“How would you feel about moving over to left forward?” Coach asked. “We're a little weak on that side of the field and I think you'd be a perfect fit.”

Megan grinned hugely. “Sure, Coach. Whatever I can do.”

“Great,” Coach Leonard said, slapping her on the shoulder. “Glad to have you here, Megan. I think with you on board, we could go a long way this year.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“See ya tomorrow.” Coach Leonard gave Megan a nod as she walked off.

Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

“Hey! You made it?” Aimee asked, noticing Megan's ludicrous grin when she walked out of the locker room a moment later.

“Yep. Left forward,” Megan said, hefting her book bag up from the floor, where she had dropped it while talking to the coach. She followed Aimee out into the bright sunshine, feeling lighter than air. She had made the team. Her new life had officially started.

She couldn't wait to get home and tell her mom and dad.
Wait,
call
Mom and Dad,
Megan reminded herself with a serious pang. This had been happening to her all day. Being away from them was going to be hard to get used to.
It's okay. You'll talk to them tonight,
she thought.
It'll be great.

“Oh, well. So much for the Hailey ego bursting. I was so looking forward to that,” Aimee said with a laugh. “But I'm happy for you. Hey . . . you need a ride home?”

“Actually, that would be . . .”

Megan trailed off when she saw a vision that made her lose all power of speech. Evan's car was parked at the curb of the school's driveway and Evan himself was leaning back against it, looking out across the plush front lawn, away from Megan. His legs were crossed at the ankle and his blond hair shone in the sunlight.

He looked up, spotted her, and smiled. He had come to pick her up from practice. There had never been a more perfect moment in all of Megan's life.