Sabotage Season (12 page)

“That is an amazing idea,” Frida said. “Do you want me to go undercover?”

“No, I got this,” Jessi replied. “Mirabelle and I used to be besties, remember? I know where she hangs out. We don't have a game tomorrow, so I can follow her around.”

Zoe shuddered. “You mean, like, stalk her? That sounds super creepy.”

“Harriet the Spy wasn't creepy. She was cute,” Jessi pointed out.

“Well, you'd just be, like, keeping an eye on things, right?” Emma asked Jessi. “Maybe that's not so bad. If you do find something out, it could help us.”

Jessi nodded. “Exactly. So far, Mirabelle's been trying to psych us out. Devin, you keep saying that you want us to get to the play-offs. Well, what if she messes that up for us? She deserves to be spied on.”

I just shook my head. “This whole thing is crazy.”

Then the waiter came back and put a small, steaming bowl of soup in front of each of us.

“Thank goodness! I was about to faint!” Frida cried, picking up her spoon.

The soup was a weird orangey color, and it looked like
it had papery things floating in it, but I put my spoon in and took a taste. It was yummy—hot and spicy and definitely a little sour, which kind of matched my mood.

I wasn't going to stop Jessi from spying on Mirabelle—and I knew that I couldn't, even if I wanted to. I really hoped that Jessi wouldn't find out anything, and that all the sabotage or whatever would just stop, but I had a feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.

I had no idea just how right I'd be.

“Good news, guys,” Zoe announced at lunch on Monday. She held up her right wrist. “The sling is off. But I still have to wear the bandage.”

“Does this mean you can play?” I asked.

Zoe crossed her fingers. “Still waiting to be cleared.”

“That's so great!” Emma said. She turned to Jessi. “So, what happened with . . . you know?”

Jessi looked around, like she was making sure nobody was listening.

“Okay, let me give you guys a report,” she said in a hushed voice. “So, Mirabelle is a total mall rat. She always has been. I checked the Panthers' practice schedule and saw they had a practice at noon yesterday, so I asked my dad to drop me off at the mall at two o'clock. I hung out in front of Crush, her favorite store. I was there for, like, a half hour, and she didn't show up. But
then there she was. I had her right in my sights.” She smiled triumphantly.

“Wait. How come she didn't see you?” Emma asked.

“Because I wore a disguise.” Jessi held out her phone and showed us a photo she had snapped of herself. She wore giant sunglasses and had tucked her braids into a blue baseball cap. She also had on some kind of beige trench coat with the collar stuck up, and I figured she must have borrowed it from her mom.

Emma giggled. “Oh my gosh. You look like something out of a spy movie.”

“I looked inconspicuous,” Jessi replied seriously. “She never saw me.”

“So you just stood there like a stalker and watched her shop?” Zoe asked.

“No, I pretended I was reading a magazine,” Jessi replied. “And it worked. Anyway, she was there with a bunch of the Panthers. They looked at clothes for a while, and then they moved on to the food court, so I followed them.”

Frida leaned across the table, hanging on Jessi's every word. “Did you hear them plotting their next move against us?”

Jessi shook her head. “No. I sat two tables away, and I could pretty much hear everything they said, and they were mostly talking about boys and their next game.”

“See? There's nothing more to worry about,” I said.

“But I'm not done yet,” Jessi said with a gleam in her eye. “I got some very important evidence.”

She held out her phone again and showed us a picture of an arm.

“I don't get it,” I said.

“This is Mirabelle's arm,” Jessi informed us. “And what's key in the picture is what's
not
in it. Namely, Mirabelle's friendship bracelet.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked.

“I mean, Mirabelle was not wearing her bracelet, but all of the other Panthers were,” Jessi answered, her voice rising with excitement. “Don't you see? Mirabelle's bracelet is the one we found in the equipment shed. Mirabelle is the one who's been sabotaging us!”

Frida gasped, and Emma and Zoe looked surprised.

“You may be right,” I admitted. “So if it's just Mirabelle, then we can confront her, right?”

Jessi grinned. “Yeah, you can count me in on that.”

“I think we should talk to Coach Flores before we do anything,” Emma suggested.

“We tried that already,” Jessi reminded her. “And all that happened was that we ended up getting insulted by the league director.”

“But this is more evidence,” I pointed out. “It couldn't hurt.”

Jessi sighed. “Fine. But if it doesn't do any good, then I vote for confronting Mirabelle.”

When we got to the locker room that afternoon, Coach Flores was waiting by the door—and she was holding my duffel bag!

“You found it!” I cried. “But how?”

“It's kind of a strange story,” Coach replied as the other Kicks gathered around us to hear. “Mr. Jenkins, one of the maintenance workers, dropped it off to me this morning. He was working here yesterday, and he said somebody ran up to the door by the gym, put it down, and left.”

“Did he see who it was?” I asked.

Coach shook her head. “He said it was a girl with blond hair. He called out to her, but she didn't answer.”

I unzipped the bag. “I hope everything's still here.”

I pulled out my shorts, the pink SportsWrap for my headband, and then my jersey. It unrolled as I took it out, and to my shock I saw the word “Loser” scrawled across the front in some kind of black marker. A big stain of purple dye streaked across the bottom.

I stared at the shirt, unable to speak, but I could hear the other Kicks gasp. Everyone started talking at once.

“No way!”

“That's awful!”

“Oh my gosh!”

“This is too much,” Jessi said loudly. “Remember when Mirabelle called us losers? She's really rubbing it in. And that Panthers purple is just another insult.”

“But didn't the janitor say that the girl who dropped it off had blond hair?” Emma asked.

Coach Flores nodded. “Yes, he did. So if you are saying that Mirabelle did this, that would rule her out.”

“Unless she wore a wig,” Frida suggested.

Then I thought of something. “Coach, did Mr. Jenkins say what time he saw the girl drop it off?”

Coach thought. “I think he said it was around three o'clock.”

I looked right at Jessi. “Then it couldn't have been Mirabelle,” I said. I wanted to say,
Because you were spying on her
, but I didn't want Coach Flores to know that.

Jessi nodded. “So it was another one of the Panthers, then. They must be working on this together after all.”

Coach Flores sighed. “Girls, I am sorry this is happening to you. It's very poor sportsmanship. I'll contact Ms. Carides about this right away.”

“Don't bother,” Jessi said. “She totally insulted us. We don't need her help. And she'd probably just tell us to practice more or something anyway.”

Coach Flores looked sad. “You might be right, Jessi, I'm sorry to say. But I can still try to talk to her. She may change her mind.”

I looked around, and pretty much the whole team was there, and they all looked upset. The Panthers' sabotage was working, and as co-captain I couldn't let it bring down the team.

“It's just a dumb jersey,” I said loudly. “Forget about it. We need a good practice today so we can beat the Atoms this weekend.”

Grace spoke up. “That's right. We can't let whoever's doing this psych us out. So let's get ready!”

“That's the right attitude,” Coach Flores said with a smile. “I'm proud of you girls.”

We all headed to the benches to get changed, and even though I had just told the team to concentrate on practice, I couldn't. I was boiling mad. I crumpled up the jersey and stuffed it in the bottom of the duffel bag.

Jessi walked up to me. “You know, I was thinking it's time to send the Panthers a message.”

“Forget it,” I said. “We can't start getting distracted by this stuff. That's just what the Panthers want.”

“But we can't let them get away with it!” Jessi protested.

“We'll talk later,” I said as I knotted the SportsWrap before sliding it onto my head. “Let's get through practice first, okay?”

Jessi frowned. “It's like you're not even listening, Devin,” she said, and then she stomped off.

I definitely did not like arguing with Jessi.

Mirabelle would love it if she knew we were fighting,
I thought.
This is just what she wants.

There was no point in talking to Jessi during practice. She ignored me for most of it, anyway. I thought I could talk to her when we were waiting for our rides home, but something else happened. As we walked away from the field, I saw Steven over by the parking lot. He waved and ran up to me.

“Hey, Devin, can I talk to you?”

“Um, sure,” I replied, glancing over at Jessi. But she had already walked past without looking at me.

“So, uh, how was practice?” Steven asked.

“Good,” I said. Why was it that whenever I was around him, I couldn't seem to talk? “How was yours?”

“Good.” He looked down and kicked the grass with his
sneaker. I couldn't help thinking that his spiky hair looked supercute today. He must have added extra gel or something.

He looked up again, and that's when I noticed that his eyes were that gray-green color that you don't see that often. “So, Cody said he asked Jessi to the carnival, and I thought, like, maybe the four of us could go together?”

“You want me to go to the carnival with you?” My voice sounded like I had just swallowed a mouse or something.

Steven nodded. “Yeah, if you want to.”

My heart was pounding faster than if I had been winging down the field toward the opposing goal. Part of me was thrilled, and the rest of me was freaked out and confused. Then I remembered my pledge to myself to stay focused on soccer until the season was over.

“Well, yeah, I want to. But we're, like, trying to make the play-offs and everything, and I'm, like, trying to be focused and everything, so . . .” Had I forgotten how to speak English? “I should stay focused on the play-offs for now. But thanks. It's really nice of you.”

Steven looked absolutely crushed, and I felt terrible. I immediately thought about changing my answer, but he didn't give me a chance.

“Okay. Well, then, see you around,” he said, and then he raced off like he was being chased or something.

I still felt terrible, and more confused than before. I mean, I liked Steven, I really did, and part of me kind of
liked the idea of going to the carnival with him and Jessi and Cody. But part of me was supernervous about it.

The honk of a horn got me out of my thoughts, and I saw Mom's car at the edge of the parking lot. I quickly ran to it and hopped into the front seat.

“Who was that you were talking to?” Mom asked.

“Oh, that's just Steven,” I answered, looking out the window. “He's on the boys' team.”

“Devin has a boyfriend! Devin has a boyfriend!” Maisie chanted from the backseat.

I turned around to look at her. “He is
not
my boyfriend.”

Maisie made a face. “Good! Boys are gross! Ew!”

“What about Riley? Didn't you just have a playdate with him?” I asked.

“Riley doesn't count,” Maisie protested. “He's nice.”

“Well, so is Steven,” I said. Satisfied, I turned back around.