Sabotage Season (5 page)

“This definitely makes up for that lousy practice,” I said after my first spoonful, and Jessi and Emma looked at each other.

“What?” I asked, putting down my spoon.

“That practice was doomed from the start,” Jessi said with her usual bluntness. “What was up with switching around everybody's positions?”

“What is up is that I'm trying to figure out how we're
going to win without Zoe,” I replied. “We've all got to be willing to try new things.”

“Well, maybe switching positions isn't the best answer,” Emma said diplomatically. “Maybe Coach has some ideas.”

“I love Coach Flores, but you know how laid-back she can be,” I countered. “Anyway, it was worth a try, right?”

“Just please don't make me play midfielder again,” Frida said. “I feel much safer back by the goal.”

“Safer? With all those strikers coming at you?” I asked.

Frida shrugged. “I don't know. I guess I found my comfort zone.”

My feelings were starting to get a tiny bit hurt, so I was glad when Jessi changed the subject.

“So, Devin, you never found your duffel bag?” she asked.

I shook my head. “It's so weird. It's like it just disappeared. Mom even called the school janitor and asked him to keep an eye out for it around the school, but he hasn't seen it.”

Frida's dark eyes got wide. “It must have been foul play,” she said, lowering her voice dramatically.

“You mean like a chicken took it?” Emma asked, giggling.

“Not
fowl
play.
Foul
play,” Frida said. “I think your duffel bag was stolen.”

“That's exactly what I've been thinking!” Jessi agreed.

“But who would want to steal a uniform and some shin guards?” I asked. “I could see that if I'd left it on the field
or something, but this was in the locker room. Somebody would have had to go to a lot of effort to get in there and take it.”

“Unless it didn't take any effort at all,” Frida said, pausing dramatically. (To be fair, she did
most
things dramatically.) “It must have been someone on the team!”

Emma gasped. “No way! Who would do that? And why?”

“Reveeeeenge,” Frida said, stretching out the word. “Or power. We're going to be doing all these Shakespeare scenes in my acting class, and there's tons of stuff like that in his plays.”

“That is ridiculous,” I said. “First of all, who would want to get revenge on me? For what?”

“Then maybe it's a power grab,” Frida suggested. “Like when Macbeth destroyed all of his enemies so he could become king.”

Jessi raised an eyebrow. “So you're saying that somebody wants to take over as co-captain and so they stole Devin's uniform? That's kind of a stretch.”

“Yeah, especially since nobody else really wanted the job,” I reminded everyone.

“Maybe it's not so serious,” Emma tossed out. “Maybe it's like a prank. My cousin plays high school football, and the senior boys always prank the younger boys.”

Jessi nodded. “That's true. And what about that weird e-mail that went out to some of the girls? If Coach Flores didn't send it, that's kind of like a prank.”

I thought about this. “So you think one of the eighth graders did it?” I asked. “But that doesn't make sense. Most of the girls who got the e-mail were eighth graders.”

“Well, maybe it's not the eighth graders,” Jessi said. “But it could still be somebody on the team.”

“The Mystery Prankster!” Frida said in an ominous tone.

I frowned. “Stealing my duffel bag could have kept me out of the game. I don't think anyone on the team would pull a prank that would jeopardize a game, would they?”

Everyone was quiet for a little bit, and I knew they were silently agreeing with me. Finally Frida spoke up.

“Hmm. I still think treachery is afoot,” she said.

“Okay, Shakespeare. Chill out,” Jessi said, laughing.

Just then Emma's phone beeped.

“It's from Zoe,” she reported, looking at the screen. “She says she misses us and she's going to come to practice tomorrow to watch, even though she can't play. Yay! You know, maybe we should do something fun with her after practice. I know it hasn't been easy for her, getting around school in her sling and all that.”

“It hasn't,” Frida said. “Brendan Insler has been following her around so he can carry her books. Zoe's totally annoyed.”

“Brendan?” I asked. I still didn't know most of the kids in seventh grade.

“Actually, I think he's totally cute,” Jessi said.

“You think every boy is totally cute,” I pointed out, and Jessi gave me a light punch on the arm.

“Then we definitely need to cheer her up,” Emma said. “We should go to the mall after practice since tomorrow's Friday.”

“Only if we all shower and change first,” Jessi argued, looking down at her dirty uniform. “I am not going to walk around the mall all muddy and nasty.”

“I'll ask my mom if I can go,” I said.

“Speaking of moms.” Frida nodded toward the door, where her mom's car was waiting. “It's time to go!”

We cleaned up our table, went outside, and piled into Mrs. Rivera's car. She drove each one of us home, which was nice. When I got inside, Dad was making dinner. Even though I'd eaten a frozen yogurt, I was still hungry, and I eagerly approached the stove.

“What are we having?” I asked.

“It's Maisie's night to choose,” Dad said. “So . . .”

“Noooo!” I wailed. “Not tuna casserole again!”

When I was little (and Maisie was just a baby) my mom got this idea that we could each pick out what we ate for dinner one night a week, so we wouldn't argue so much when she forced healthy food on us all the other days. It worked out for a long time, because Maisie mostly picked chicken fingers and mac and cheese when she was little. But three years ago she fell in love with our aunt Sally's tuna casserole, and now she had asked for it every week for three years.

“Maisie, how about tacos next week?” I asked when we sat down to eat. “You love tacos.”

“I can get tacos at a restaurant,” Maisie shot back. “But Dad is the only one who makes tuna casserole like Aunt Sally.”

“How about . . . ravioli, then?” I asked. “You love ravioli, too.”

“I also love tuna casserole,” Maisie said stubbornly.

I sighed and picked through the mushy mess of noodles, tuna, sauce, cheese, and peas on my plate, pushing the peas to the side. I didn't mind snow peas in Chinese food or edamame when we went to the Japanese restaurant, but mushy peas . . . ugh.

“Hey, can I go to the mall tomorrow?” I asked as we finished up eating.

“With whom?” Mom asked. (She was the kind of mom who used proper grammar at all times.)

“Jessi, Emma, Zoe, and Frida,” I said. “To cheer up Zoe.”

“And who's driving?” Mom asked.

“I'm not sure,” I replied.

Mom nodded. “I'll text the moms and we'll figure it out. But it's fine with me if it's fine with your dad.”

“Sure, why not?” Dad said. “You've been practicing and studying a lot lately. It's nice that you're going out with your friends. Just not too late.”

“Of course. We have practice Saturday morning,” I replied.

Everyone's parents agreed, so we were all pretty excited at practice the next day. It was a good practice too, since we all played our usual positions during the scrimmage
and nobody got confused. When it was over, we showered and got changed, and Zoe's mom drove us to the mall.

The Sun Center mall was basically like the malls back in Connecticut, except for the palm trees out front. There was a food court, and tons of stores. And lots of kids went there just to hang out and stuff. I was psyched because Mrs. Quinlan dropped us off at the entrance right by the Sports World store.

“Awesome,” I said as we all walked inside. “I've been reading about these new limited-edition soccer cleats. They're supposed to be for traction and for speed. I'd love to try on a pair.”

Jessi shook her head. “I swear if they opened up your skull, they'd find a soccer ball inside there instead of a brain.”

“Actually, I wouldn't mind looking at the pro jerseys,” Emma piped up. “They've got some cool new ones.”

So we spent some time in Sports World, and then Jessi insisted that we check out her favorite clothing store, Shine. Jessi walked up to a display of scarves, picked up a shimmery gold one, and then draped it on Zoe's arm.

“Some bling for your sling,” she joked, and we all cracked up. Frida and Jessi tried on some outfits, but I could tell it was bumming out Zoe a little bit because she couldn't easily try anything on.

“Maybe we should get going,” I said to Jessi as I nodded toward the door. Jessi looked up, and her eyes narrowed angrily. Wow, I'd had no idea Jessi was such a serious shopper.

“Sorry,” I started, wondering what was up, but then I followed Jessi's gaze and saw Mirabelle at the front of the store, browsing through a rack of earrings.

“Hey, Mirabelle,” Jessi called out, and Mirabelle looked up, surprised to see her. Jessi gestured toward a mirror on the wall. “There's a mirror over here. You can take a look in it if you want to know what a real loser looks like. You may have noticed, but there are none on the Kicks anymore. Not since you left.”

Whoa. That was pretty harsh, even though it was nothing compared to all the things Mirabelle had said and done to the Kicks when she'd been on our team. Emma and Zoe exchanged shocked glances. I was surprised to see a hurt look cross Mirabelle's face for a moment, but she quickly recovered and put on her usual smug smile.

“No, thanks,” she said. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Jessi. “I'm a Pinewood Panther now, so I don't have to share anything with the Kicks. Not your run-down field, your coach who is more like a babysitter, or your gross uniforms. It's only the best for the Panthers.”

She turned and swept out of the store, her head held high.

“Good riddance,” Jessi muttered.

“Wow, Jessi.” Emma shook her head. “I can't believe you said that!”

“It was kind of mean,” Zoe agreed.

But Frida stuck up for Jessi. “Are you guys totally forgetting how awful Mirabelle was to all of us? She had
it coming. And besides, she totally just put down the Kicks—
again
!”

Emma nodded. “I know our uniforms aren't as fancy as the Panthers', but I don't think they are gross!”

“And it totally wasn't cool of her to trash Coach Flores,” Zoe said. “Coach is always so nice to everyone. She was even nice to Mirabelle!”

Jessi sighed. “I know, and I probably shouldn't have started with her. But seeing her at the game the other day brought back all those bad memories of how she treated us—and especially me, after our friendship breakup.”

“You're better off without her,” I said as I slung an arm around Jessi's shoulder. “Besides, you've got us now!”

“True.” Jessi's face brightened. “And I'm with my new best friends in the mall, and the best part is yet to come.”

“Best part?” Zoe asked.

“Boys and pizza!” Jessi said, pointing her finger toward the ceiling. “To the third floor!”

I laughed. “What, do they have a store on the third floor where they sell boys and pizza?”

“What do they call it, Boys R Us?” Emma joked.

“Or maybe they call it Cody Hut,” Zoe said with a sly smile at Jessi.

Jessi looked a little embarrassed at Zoe's comment, but she tried to laugh it off. “Whatever. The arcade is on the third floor, and that's where all the boys hang out. The food court's on the third floor too. So let's go check it out!”

We followed her out of the store and up the escalator.

The smells of the food court hit us as we headed across the mall. Just as Jessi had said, a bunch of boys were hanging out talking in front of the arcade.

“So, um, what are we supposed to do?” I asked. “Talk to them?”

“No. We just watch them and decide who's cute,” Jessi replied. “Wait, is that Brendan Insler over there?”

Zoe blushed. “No, thank goodness. What did Frida tell you?”

“Only that he follows you around like a puppy and carries your books everywhere now,” Jessi answered.

“I never said he was like a puppy,” Frida protested. “Although, that's not a bad description.”

“Right. A sweaty, annoying puppy,” Zoe said, making a face.

“Hey, I think there's some soccer boys over there,” I said, pointing. “Isn't that Cody and Steven?”

“Don't point!” Jessi said frantically, pushing down my arm, but it was too late. Cody waved at us with a big smile on his face, and Steven gave us kind of a shy wave.

I waved back, but Jessi grabbed me by the arm and started pulling me toward the food court. The other girls followed us.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“You can't point like that!” Jessi cried. “Then they'll think we like them.”

“But you
do
like Cody, don't you?” I asked.

Jessi rolled her eyes. “That is totally not the point.”

“I'm hungry,” Emma said. “Let's get that pizza.”

Frida closed her eyes. “Mmm, pizza.”

“Are you going to order yours with an extra topping of Cody?” I couldn't help but tease Jessi, who glared at me.

“Shhhh! He might hear you,” Jessi said nervously, glancing back at the arcade.

“We're in the crowded, noisy mall, totally across the room from him,” I reminded her. I was starting to think that when Cody was around, Jessi's brain short-circuited or something.

“Unless he has some kind of superhero hearing or something,” Emma said, and giggled.