Rock Bottom Girl(34)

Hmm. Tempting.

“I have an away game today. Rain check?”

“Soon then,” he said with a flash of dimple. “I’ll save you a seat.”





20





Marley





I forgot how much I hated school buses. The vinyl seats smelled like farts, and the suspension made me feel like I was enjoying a leisurely cruise in a tank over desert boulders. My internal organs were bruised, and I felt queasy. But at least the girls were in good spirits.

Vicky was sound asleep in the seat across from me, her mouth open, daintily snoring.

Natalee, my cute Korean striker, slid into the seat behind me. “Okay, so we didn’t want to miss all the fun, so Leslie’s cousin Brad is at the stadium, and he’s going to record it.”

“I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone about this.” I glanced around the bus before remembering that Lisabeth had been on the absentee roster today. Apparently, she had parents who felt she didn’t actually need to attend school.

“Brad isn’t going to tell anyone. He hates Tyler on the varsity team because Tyler told Mr. Vandish that Brad was copying off of his trig test when really it was Tyler copying Brad.” Natalee was extremely well-informed, and I was probably already fired.

“I hope he’s at least subtle about it,” I said dryly, but I moved closer to peer at Natalee’s phone. It was 3:29. My fingers danced on the clipboard that held the first quarter’s lineup. We were playing the Huntersburg Bees. A warm, fuzzy name for a team that systematically dismembered its opponents. The Huntersburg Bees were from an all-girls private school. To get to them, it was a forty-five-minute drive through Amish country. But the peace-loving Amish weren’t enough to dilute the Bees.

They were as evil as teenage girls could get. At least, that’s how I remembered them after they trounced us on the soccer field every single time.

Was I nervous about my very first game as a soccer coach? Hell yes. Did I think there was a possibility that this prank would get me fired? Definitely. Especially since everyone was waving their phones around talking about vandalism and breaking and entering. High school-aged girls were not good at keeping secrets.

Was I also still thinking about Jake telling me he was flirting with me? Yes. A lot.

Someone squeaked toward the back of the bus. “It’s Brad,” Leslie said, brandishing her phone. “He said ‘It’s starting’!”

The excited squeals woke Vicky. “Huh? What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You’re halfway to Huntersburg, and the sprinklers just went off.”

Vicky bolted from her seat and ran down the aisle screaming, “I wanna see!”

“She’s super weird,” Natalee confided.

“Aren’t we all?”

Phones started dinging all up and down the bus aisle.

“I got video! I’m sharing,” Leslie announced.

Natalee’s phone signaled a message.

She pushed play, and I watched with satisfaction as the sprinklers erupted, arcing red water into the air. The varsity team was on the field, running some complicated footwork drill. There were the usual noises of surprise and then panic when they realized this wasn’t just water.

Ah. Nothing felt as good as watching a plan come together. Perfect execution. And we were miles away from the scene of the crime. Even I was impressed with myself.

The girls were celebrating with a cheery “Suck it” chant. I hoped the bus driver wasn’t taking notes for the administration. But he was a beefy guy with a bologna sandwich in his shirt pocket and earbuds in his ears.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Jake’s name on the screen. I’d been given access to the teacher’s directory which included phone numbers. I may have plugged Jake’s name and number into my contacts just in case.

Jake: I had a hunch there might be some excitement up here today.





Attached was a picture of a snarling Coach Vince waving his arms in the air while his players scrubbed their faces on their shirts. They were all cherry Kool-Aid red.

I debated replying. But I couldn’t help it.

Me: Huh. Imagine that. They must have really pissed someone off.





Jake: It’s not permanent is it?





Me: If I had to guess—seeing as how I have no personal knowledge of the situation—I’d say it was one of those semi-permanent prank dyes. It can hold up to water for a couple of days, but baby oil will strip it right out.





Jake: I don’t feel inclined to share that information right now.





Me: I like that about you.





Jake: Good luck today, Coach.





I felt a smile spreading across my face. If we could take down the entire boys soccer team and their shithead coach, maybe we had a chance today. Starting out the season with a win? Now, that would be pretty great.





We lost.

So badly that the Bees’ head coach apologized to me when he shook my hand after the game.

7-0. And the last two goals had been scored by the Bee’s junior varsity second string.

We hadn’t been able to string passes together. Our communication was nonexistent. And while our defense worked harder than they should have had to, the offense couldn’t get anywhere near the goal.