Sabotage Season (15 page)

“That was more like the old Mirabelle, the one who used to be my friend,” Jessi said a little wistfully. “At least
she's not going to tell anyone about the sunscreen.”

“Do you believe her? About not telling, and the sabotage stuff?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Jessi replied, “but I'm not so sure about the sabotage stuff. Although, she really didn't seem to have any idea what we were talking about.”

“Hmmmm,” I said slowly as I let everything Mirabelle had told us sink in. “She said she gave her bracelet to Jamie. What if Jamie is the one who wrecked our banner?”

“Mr. Jenkins said the girl who returned your bag had blond hair,” Jessi said excitedly. “Jamie has blond hair!”

“And she was at the Eagles game the day my bag was stolen!” I cried. It was all starting to make sense. “Steven said that the Rams were the boys' strongest competition this season, not the Panthers. And the Kicks will face the Rams in a week.”

Jessi snapped her fingers. “Jamie could have even planted Mirabelle's bracelet in the shed to throw us off her trail!”

“Wow, pretty diabolical for a middle school student.” I shook my head in disbelief. “So if the Rams are behind this—”

Jessi finished my sentence. “Then we targeted the wrong team!”

We made our way to the parking lot, still stunned by what we had learned. My dad, mom, and sister were waiting by our car, talking with Jessi's parents. Emma, Frida, and Zoe were huddled off to the side, clearly comforting Emma, who'd had a not-so-great game.

“You okay, kiddo?” My dad asked, ruffling my hair with his hand.

I readjusted my pink headband and gave him a sad smile. “It would have been worse if this loss had ended our shot at the play-offs, but we've still got another chance at our game against the Rams next week.”

Jessi gave me a look, her eyebrows raised. It was easy to tell what she was thinking. We had a shot if the Rams didn't try to sabotage us again!

“That's my girl! I love that positive attitude,” Dad said with a grin. “But I figured you still might need a little cheering up. That's why we're going to take you all out
for ice cream. Mr. and Mrs. Dukes are coming with us, and we got the okay from Frida's, Zoe's, and Emma's parents to take them, too.”

Jessi and I exchanged excited glances. We couldn't wait to tell our friends what we had just discovered!

“I want to sit with Devin and her friends!” Maisie whined as the Kicks all sat in a booth together on the other side of the room from where our parents were going to sit.

“Mom, please?” I begged. “We need to talk soccer strategy.”

“Maisie, let Devin have some alone time with her friends,” Mom told her.

“Fine.” Maisie crossed her arms. “But I'm getting two scoops, then!”

My mom dragged a complaining Maisie away while Jessi laughed. “We should send Maisie after the Rams. That will stop them!”

Emma, Zoe, and Frida looked confused. “After the Rams? What are you talking about?” Frida wondered.

I cleared my throat. “Wait until you hear this!” Jessi and I filled them in about our conversation with Mirabelle and how we'd figured out it was the Rams, not the Panthers, sabotaging us.

“So Lady Macbeth is Jamie Quinn, not Mirabelle!” Frida said.

Emma shook her head. “I can't believe it. The Rams? What have they got against us?”

“Well, I can't believe that Mirabelle was actually nice,” Zoe said. “She really promised not to say anything about the sunscreen?”

I nodded. “I think she meant it,” I replied, and Zoe looked relieved.

“The Rams,” Frida repeated thoughtfully. “Hmm. The plot thickens.”

“But wait!” Zoe cried. She sat up straight in her chair, holding her ice cream spoon in the air. “We're playing the Rams next week!”

“Forget about trying to get any kind of revenge on them,” I said firmly. “If we play well, we'll win. We can beat them fair and square.”

Zoe shook her head. “That's not what I meant. We're playing the Rams next Saturday, and so are the boys! Both home games on the same day. If the Rams are planning any more sabotage, that's gotta be when they'll try it.”

Emma's eyes grew wide. “How can we stop them? We don't even know what they have planned.”

Frida had an idea. “What if you bring it to the league director again? What was her name?”

“Ms. Carides,” I said. “That's not a bad idea. We have actual evidence this time.”

“Not really,” Jessi objected. “All we have is Mirabelle's word that she gave Jamie her bracelet. And a sighting of a girl with blond hair.”

“What about my T-shirt?” I asked.

“She thought someone from Kentville trashed the banner,” Jessi reminded me. “She'd probably say the same thing about your shirt.”

Everyone looked sad and defeated. Then Jessi's eyes lit up. “I think I know what to do.”

“What?” I asked, curious as to how we could even begin to fix this, and a little nervous that Jessi had another crazy plan.

“Holly Phillips—she goes to my church and she goes to Riverdale. Plus she's on the soccer team!” Jessi said, like she had everything figured out.

“Um, okay, but how does that help us?” I wondered.

“You don't know Holly. Her mouth runs a mile a minute. She'll tell you what she ate for breakfast, but she'll also drop juicy gossip, like who is feuding with who over at Riverdale,” Jessi said.

“She might talk a lot, but I don't think she'll tell you, a Kangaroo, about her team's plot to sabotage us,” Emma said doubtfully.

“She wouldn't tell me, but what if she told it to another Ram?” Jessi said, her eyes gleaming.

“Still not getting it,” I said.

Jessi leaned back in her chair and grinned. “We've got a lot of talent on the Kicks, and that includes a talented actress—Frida.” Frida glowed at Jessi's compliment. “What if Frida pretends she's a new student and wants to join the Rams? And gets Holly to spill everything?”

“Wouldn't they know what Frida looks like?” Zoe asked.

Jessi nodded. “She'd have to wear a disguise, of course.”

Frida smiled. “I could go to the Rams' practice after school tomorrow. I'll say I just moved to Riverdale and am interested in joining the soccer team.”

“But you'll miss
our
practice!” I said, alarmed. After the game we'd just played, we needed to step it up!

“Chill, Devin. It's only one practice,” Jessi said. “We've got to find out what else the Rams have planned. If it's something really terrible, all the practice in the world won't help us.”

Jessi had a point. The sabotage had slowly and surely gotten into the Kicks' heads and messed with our performance. We needed to put a stop to it once and for all!

“Do you think you can pull it off, Frida?” I asked. “Acting onstage, or even on the soccer field, is one thing. But this is more like being a spy!”

“I can handle it,” Frida said, her eyes dancing. “It's going to be fun!”

The next day at soccer practice, Jessi, Emma, Zoe, and I kept exchanging nervous glances. Frida had promised to come right over to the Kicks' field as soon as she was finished. What if she got caught?

We played a scrimmage, and Coach Flores rotated all of us between offense and defense to give everyone several shots on the goal. It was time to cool down, and Coach had us all stretching, something new she had been trying out. It reminded me a little bit of the tai chi we had
done with the seniors, and I felt myself beginning to relax, when I spotted a girl I had never seen before pedaling her bike to the end of the field.

Jessi looked up too. “It's Frida!” she hissed.

“No way!” I said. But when Coach called practice, Jessi raced over to her. Zoe and Emma looked at me. I shrugged. “Let's go!”

We followed, and when I got closer, I could tell the girl indeed was Frida, but it wasn't easy!

“Wow, Frida,” Emma said, impressed. “I never would have recognized you.”

“I raided the prop room in the theater department this morning,” Frida said as she climbed off her bike. Her curly auburn hair was hidden, replaced by two brown braids running down her back. She took off the helmet, and now we could also see her brown bangs. She was wearing a wig! Her eyes, usually swept with black dramatic eyeliner, were bare. Instead she wore glasses with thin black frames.

“You don't wear glasses. How can you see?” Jessi asked.

Frida took the glasses off and tapped the lenses. “They're prop glasses—it's clear glass!”

“So did you find anything out?” I asked eagerly.

“I sure did, and then some!” Frida said as she leaned the bike against the fence and pulled off the messenger bag she had slung across her shoulders. She reached into the bag and pulled out a mini audio recorder.

“And I've got it all recorded!” she said triumphantly.
“I'm glad Jessi showed me that picture of Holly. I was able to find her right away and start a conversation. And, boy, oh boy, did she sing like a canary!”

“Play it!” Jessi demanded.

Frida grinned and hit a button. Soon we could hear a voice saying, “Hi, I'm Diana.” The voice was high-pitched and really upbeat and cheery.

“That's me,” Frida mouthed. It didn't sound anything like her!

“I'm transferring here and wanted to check out the soccer team,” “Diana” continued. “I was hoping I could make the team.”

“We're in the middle of the season, and full up, but what grade are you in? Maybe you can play next year,” a voice said in return.

“That's Holly,” Frida whispered to us.

Diana and Holly chatted back and forth for a while, and Holly was telling a long story about how her social studies teacher had broken out in hives in class that day, when Frida struck.

“I really wanted to go to Pinewood,” she said. “Their team is awesome, but my parents can't afford to send me there. Another team I've been hearing a lot about lately is the Kentville Kangaroos. I wouldn't mind playing for them.”

“Trust me, you're way better off with the Rams,” Holly answered. Her voice dropped lower. “The Kangaroos may have been doing better, but I know for a fact they are not going to make it to the play-offs.”

“How could you know something like that?” Frida, as Diana, asked innocently.

There was a long pause before Holly spoke again. Her voice had gotten even lower, barely above a whisper. Huddled around the audio recorder, we all strained to hear her.

“Because it's against our league rules to play on a field that's anything but green grass,” Holly confided. “If you don't have green grass or turf, you have to forfeit the game.”

“The Kicks don't have a green field? That's weird,” Frida said.

Holly giggled. “They do now, but they'll be in serious trouble when they spray paint ‘Kangaroos Rule' in big blue letters all over the field before their next game.”