Rock Bottom Girl(66)

They took their seats near the JV team that was busy squealing and giggling their way through a recap of their first victory of the season.

“Not much of a crowd, Coach.” I heard another voice call. This one immediately raised my hackles.

Coach Vince, flanked by a couple of his players, stood behind my bench, smugly taking in the empty bleachers. The red had faded to a dull pink on their hair and complexions. Now they just looked sunburned.

“Nice of you to show your support,” I said dryly.

“Support?” he scoffed. “I’m here to witness your humiliation.”

Nice job, universe, bringing my greatest secret fears to life.

“Be sure to buy some soup and hot chocolate to support the Booster Club,” I said, rubbing my eye with my middle finger. Like a toddler with a temper tantrum, he kicked gravel in my direction and stormed off.

“Good luck tonight, ladies,” Milton said to Angela and Ruby.

I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or just a dumbass. But I collared both girls and pushed them back toward the field just in case they were feeling particularly blood-thirsty tonight.

I sent Vicky to round up the team to go through the lineup and snagged Libby from the circle. The field lights banged on overhead.

“You ready?” I asked her.

“Relax, Coach. It’s just a game.”

I heard a wolf whistle and turned around. Jake—looking studly in jeans, a thermal, and a down vest—waved from the middle of most of the cross-country team. “Lookin’ good, Cicero,” he called.

I sent him a weak wave before turning back to Libby. My heart had kicked up a notch, and I couldn’t tell if it was pre-game jitters or “Jake Weston looks fine” hormones.

“I really want to win,” I confessed to Libby.

“Then tell the team that,” she suggested.

I huddled everyone up on the field and eyed the clock. “Okay, guys. This is where I’m supposed to tell you to play hard and have fun and be proud of yourselves.”

They looked at me skeptically.

“This is also the part where I’m going to tell you I really, really want a win tonight. Coach Vince and half of the boys team is here ready to watch us implode. I don’t want to give them the pleasure. So I’m asking you, selfishly, unfairly, to do your very best out there tonight so I can rub this in his face. Make me look good tonight, and I won’t make anyone run tomorrow.”

“Well, I do hate running,” Ashlynn the goalie said, clapping her gloved hands.

“Then let’s go out there and kick Blue Ball’s as—butts,” Vicky said. “Hands in, ladies.”

“Three, two, one. Go, team!”

“Go, team!”

“We need a way cooler call to action,” I said, as the first string took their positions on the field.

“How about ‘destroy the enemy’?” Vicky suggested as we walked back to the bench. The stands were still mostly empty, but the number of spectators was growing, slowly.

“How about ‘fuck off, Coach Vince’?”

Jake was sitting with my parents, and it looked like Dietrich made it out tonight too. I gave them all a little wave and tried to swallow the nerves that were turning my stomach into a roller coaster.

I felt a shiver run up my spine. Evil was near. Turning around, I spotted Lisabeth Hooper, flanked by the bronzer triplets and… “Is that? It can’t be?” I murmured.

She was still blonde. Still had a terrifying resting bitch face. She was fifty pounds heavier but still annoyingly attractive.

“Steffi Lynn?” Vicky supplied. “Yeah. Didn’t you know she’s Lisabeth’s mom? After she flunked out of cosmetology school, she moved back in with her parents and took a job as an assistant to an insurance agent in Centerville. She got knocked up by her boss, which was a shame because he was married. Anyway, she’s been married and divorced like three times. She was a massage therapist until she got sued when her essential oil blend ate the skin off of a couple of her clients. Still lives with her parents. She’s broke and going through another divorce.”

“Wow.”

Steffi Lynn took a step closer to the fence and glared down at me. “Once a loser, always a loser,” she said snidely.

There was something less monstrous, more sad about her than I remembered. Had I somehow cursed Steffi Lynn all those years ago at our showdown or was it just cumulative karma?

Lisabeth stared me down coldly and mouthed “fuck you.”

“Thanks for coming to show your support,” I said, giving them a little finger wave.

“Didn’t she get suspended? Should we call security?” Vicky whispered out of the side of her mouth.

Stadium security consisted of a seventy-year-old partially deaf man who carried a walkie-talkie and napped in the ambulance.

“It was a day of in-school suspension. And let’s just rub her face in our victory,” I said grimly.





40





Marley





My heart was pounding away in my throat when the ref blew the whistle to start the game. I’d always felt like this before my own games. Nerves. Anticipation. The hope that I’d somehow magically unlock my untapped athletic ability and be the team hero.