Sabotage Season (16 page)

“Why would they do something like that?” Frida asked.

“Maybe
they
won't. Maybe someone else will before the game on Saturday,” Holly said.

“Wait, are you saying that the
Rams
are going to spray paint the Kentville field?” Frida asked. “What an awesome idea!”

“Oh my gosh!” Jessi cried, and Frida stopped the recording. “Are you serious? They're going to paint our field? That's extreme.”

“Extremely nasty,” Emma agreed. “Especially the part about how they'll make it look like we did it ourselves.”

“This is incredible,” I said, shaking my head.

“There's more,” Frida said. “I only said that last thing
to butter her up so she'd keep talking. And wow, did it work.” She turned the recorder back on.

“Yeah, it's the perfect plan, and it was all Jamie's idea,” Holly chattered on. “Jamie is our team captain. If we spray ‘Kangaroos Rule' on the school field, the one where both teams play, everyone will think the Kangaroos did it themselves. They'll be in big trouble. We're hoping it will be big enough that the Kangaroos' girls' and boys' teams will have to forfeit against us that day. Then we'll be guaranteed a slot in the play-offs.”

“How would you even pull something like that off?” Frida asked.

“Jamie's got the cans of blue and white spray paint already,” Holly continued, spilling all. “We're going to go to the field early Saturday morning—around eight a.m., when no one will be there yet. We'll do it then. When everyone shows up for the game, surprise!”

“Wow, that's pretty smart,” Frida said.

“Jamie's really smart,” Holly said. “We've already done a bunch of stuff to them. Like, she found some of the Kangaroos' e-mail addresses online and sent them a fake e-mail that looked like it was from their coach so they would all get to practice late by mistake.”

“Genius,” said Frida.

Then Holly started chattering on about the Rams' uniforms, and Frida shut off the recorder.

“Unbelievable!” Jessi cried, her face contorted with anger.

“Not only would we have to forfeit, but we would get in trouble for spray painting our field too!” Zoe said, outraged.

“Remember how I said I'm totally not cut out for revenge?” Emma asked angrily. “Well, I was wrong. I'd love to get some revenge on those Rams!”

I held my hands up in the air. “No more revenge! What we need to do is figure out a way to stop them.”

“Could we bring the recording to the league director?” Zoe suggested. “That would have to convince anyone!”

“But then the Rams will be disqualified,” I said. “And if we do make it to the play-offs, everyone will say it's only because we never had to play the Rams. I want to beat them fair and square!”

“That means we need to figure out a way to stop them from painting our field,” Jessi said. “And fast!”

We were bouncing around some ideas about how to stop the Rams, when Jessi made a good point.

“This involves the boys' team too,” she said. “We need to warn them!”

That's why the next day at lunch Jessi and I were sitting with Cody and Steven. I felt so awkward because this was the first time we were talking after I'd acted like a total dork when Steven had asked me to the carnival. When we first sat down, he didn't even look at me. I felt my cheeks get hot, but Cody and Jessi didn't notice the weirdness between us. Or if they did, they didn't let on.

“Do you remember how I tried to tell you the Panthers were trying to sabotage both of our teams?” Jessi asked.

Cody laughed. “Not this again!”

Jessi's eyes flashed angrily. “I was wrong about only one thing. It's the Rams, not the Panthers, who are sabotaging
us. They've got something big planned for our games this Saturday. This time I've got undeniable proof.” She plunked the audio recorder down on the table.

“What—,” Steven started to say, when Jessi shushed him.

“Be quiet and listen,” she said. “You're about to hear Holly, one of the Rams, talking.” Jessi had fast-forwarded the recording to the part where Holly spilled everything.

She turned the recorder on, and Steven and Cody listened. Cody at first had a mocking grin on his face, but it slowly faded as he heard the details of the Rams' plan.

“Wow,” Cody said, shaking his head. “I can't believe another team would try to make both of our teams forfeit.”

“Did you play it for Coach Flores?” Steven asked, looking at me for the first time since I'd sat at the table.

“No,” I said. “I want to beat the Rams fair and square, not because they get disqualified.”

“So we have to stop them before they do it,” Jessi added. “And we've got a plan. We were hoping you would help us.”

The idea had been Emma's. She'd said, “What if we were waiting for them Saturday morning? As soon as they got on the field, we could turn the sprinklers on them!”

Jessi told Cody and Steven the Kicks' plan.

Cody laughed. “It would serve them right! Hey, I had a part-time job over the summer with the maintenance crew at Kentville. I used to mow the grass and stuff. I know where the shut-offs are for the sprinklers.”

“Perfect!” Jessi said. “So we'll meet at the field at seven thirty a.m.?”

“Wait,” Steven interrupted. “How are we going to explain to our parents why we need to be at the soccer field so early?”

Jessi shrugged. “Special training for the big soccer games that day? We'll think of something!”

“Thanks for warning us,” Cody said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Steven added. “It would have been the worst if we'd had to forfeit Saturday's game.”

Jessi grinned. “You're welcome. Now you know I was right, so feel free to go ahead and apologize for not believing us the first time.”

Cody laughed again. “Come on, Jessi. You have to admit that you sounded pretty crazy.”

Oh, no,
I thought.
Here we go again.
Jessi's back stiffened and the smile left her face, but Cody was totally oblivious to her body language.

“So, Jessi, are we still on for the carnival?” he asked with a smile.

“I don't think so,” Jessi said primly as she stood up to leave. “Let's go, Devin,” she said, and she stalked off.

I saw Cody, his eyes wide and his shoulders raised in a questioning shrug, looking at Steven.

Why does Kentville even hold this stupid carnival?
I thought as I followed an angry Jessi out of the cafeteria. It was causing way too much trouble!

Between the sabotage, homework, and soccer practice, I had missed a bunch of webcam sessions with Kara. That night I made sure to keep the date. I had so much to tell her!

“Oh, so you're alive,” Kara said sarcastically. “I was beginning to wonder.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, surprised at the tone of her voice.

“I just haven't seen you in a while,” Kara said, and she looked kind of mad.

“I know,” I said. “It's just—”

“Forget it,” Kara snapped, cutting me off. “Listen, I have to go. I'm
busy
. You should understand that, right?”

Before I could answer her, she vanished from the screen. I stared at it for a moment, sad. Kara was totally upset! I figured it was because I had missed those webcam sessions, but she should have understood that, right? Aren't friends supposed to understand stuff like that?

Now I was totally in a bad mood. I stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen. My dad had on the apron that Maisie and I had given him the previous Father's Day. It had yellow caution tape on the front and said,
STAND BACK. DAD IS COOKING.

“What's for dinner?” I asked.

“My famous turkey burgers,” he replied as he flipped one in the grill pan.

Dad's turkey burgers were famous, but when he'd first started making them, they had not been famous in a good way, if you know what I mean. Dry and tasteless,
they'd been more like hockey pucks than burgers. Even my mom, who was a stickler for us cleaning our plates, had said we could throw them in the garbage! But he kept experimenting with the recipe, and now they were moist and delicious.

“Okay,” I said, my voice flat.

Dad frowned. “Usually you do cartwheels for my turkey burgers. What's up, Dev?”

I didn't really feel like talking, but Dad was a good listener. So I took a deep breath. “I think Kara's kind of mad at me,” I began.

Dad turned away from the stove and looked at me. “You and Kara hardly ever fight. What's going on?”

I told him how busy I had been with soccer and schoolwork and how I'd missed a bunch of our webcam sessions.

“She knows how busy I am, between soccer and school and everything,” I said. “Shouldn't she be a little more understanding about it?”

Dad sat down at the kitchen table while I sat across from him.

“I'm sure she understands,” he said. “But I don't blame her if she's feeling a little hurt, too. You have been a little soccer obsessed lately, Devin.”

I sighed. Everyone was calling me soccer crazy!

“I just want the Kicks to make it to the play-offs!” I said.

“If the Kicks don't make the play-offs, the world won't end.” Dad gave me a little smile. “Life will go on, but it may be a life without Kara if you don't start making time for her.”

I shuddered. If the Kicks didn't make the play-offs, I'd really need Kara! And if the Kicks did, she'd be the first person I would want to tell.

“It's not healthy to be too focused on just one thing,” he continued. “You need to make sure you take the time to be with the people who are important to you. So try to make some time for her, okay? And if you can't, then maybe you can text her. So she knows you're not just blowing her off.”

I nodded. He was so right!

“Thanks, Dad!” I walked around the table and gave him a big hug. “Do I have time to call her before dinner?”

Dad smiled. “I'll keep the turkey burgers warm.”

I knew I probably couldn't get Kara back on the webcam, so I called her home phone—something I hadn't done since we were kids. Her mom answered.

“Hi, Mrs. O'Connell,” I said. “May I please speak to Kara?”

“Of course, Devin!” she said, and then I heard some shuffling, and Kara's muffled protests, but then she got on the phone.

“Hello,” she said flatly.

“Listen, I know you're mad,” I said. “And I'm sorry. Really, really, really, really sorry. I don't mean to be igsnoring you, I swear.”

Kara giggled. “Did you just say ‘igsnoring'?”

“Well, I meant to say ‘ignoring,' ” I said. “You know what I mean.”

“Is that like when you ignore someone while you're snoring?” she asked.

Now I was giggling. “I am not snoring! Or ignoring! I swear. I'm just really, really, really, really sorry.”

“Well, as long as you're really, really, really, really sorry, I forgive you,” Kara said.

“Thank you!” I cried. “And if I can't webcam you, I promise I'll text or something. I hate you being mad at me. You're still my best friend, even if you're, like, a thousand miles away.”

“Two thousand nine hundred eighty-nine point nine miles,” Kara said, and I was impressed. I knew if Kara had memorized the miles between us, she had to really miss me.

“Devin! Dinnertime!” Dad called out.

“I have to go,” I said. “Are we cool?”

“As long as you don't igsnore me anymore,” Kara teased, giggling again.

“You are so weird!” I cried, and then I hung up the phone, and I felt really relieved that things were right between us again.