How To Be A Perfect Girl (17 page)

“B-but, why?” the goalie girl asked.

Avery laughed, “Cause our goalie’s the best
in state—at our level, anyway. And I’m perfectly happy with my
defensive core, so there’s no need to add anyone to it.”

“But don’t you at least want to see if we’re
better than whoever you’ve already got?” the girl who was trying
out to be a defender asked; she looked more like a sophomore or
junior than a freshman.

“Not really. I’m sure you won’t be, so why
waste any of our time?”

“That’s not fair,” a lot of the girls
complained. Val kept quiet, not wanting to call Avery’s attention
to her—for some reason it seemed like she’d already done enough to
raise the older girl’s ire.

Avery relented, “Alright, you can try out.
But don’t forget, I warned you. Anyway, let’s warm up with some
ladders.”

Ladders—running from one end of the field to
the other by running first to the penalty line and back, then to
the midfield line and back, and so on—were not Val’s favorite
exercise. Just the same, she went as fast as she could, and
finished with the front pack of girls. A couple of the girls trying
out beat her, along with nearly half of the returning players from
last year. It became clear as Val turned to watch the other girls
finish that at least a few were woefully out of shape.

Next, Avery divided them into pairs for
passing drills; she walked amongst them as they worked to complete
a circuit of different passing types. Val cheered after
successfully completing a back pass; her heel connected with the
ball at the perfect angle and it trundled right into her partner’s
waiting foot.

“What are you doing?” Avery asked; she was
almost a dozen feet away from Val, and the players between them
stopped to listen in on the conversation.

“Celebrating,” Val admitted, “I’ve always
had trouble with that pass.”

“Interesting,” Avery replied, “And you think
you did it right that time?”

“Yeah. I mean, I got it to Scarlett, didn’t
I?”

“Doesn’t mean it was a
good pass,” Avery reprimanded. “You can continue; I just found it
interesting that you would celebrate such a
simple
pass.”

Val blushed. She turned back to Scarlett,
her partner. They worked a bit longer on the back pass than
everyone else, until Val reached the point of making more than she
missed. She didn’t celebrate any successful passes after Avery
called her out, and vowed to contain her enthusiasm for the rest of
practice.

For the scrimmage, Avery decided to pit the
new players against the veterans; because that would have resulted
in a few open spots, however, she was forced to shift some of the
girls around. As a result, Val ended up on the veteran’s team.

The game was lopsided from
the beginning; Val thought she did well, despite the fact that
Avery practically refused to pass her the ball. At one point the
Senior girl crossed the ball over the entire field, right past Val,
who was at least twice as close and undefended.
That’s it,
Val thought,
I have to figure out why she hates me so
much.

After the scrimmage the team broke up as
everyone headed for the locker rooms. “Hey Avery! Can we talk for a
minute?” Val asked, figuring it was a request the team captain
would be honor bound to agree to.

Avery sighed violently, “I suppose.” She
stopped, and the other girls passed them by.

Now that she was speaking with Avery, Val
wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted to. “Why do you hate me?”
she blurted out.

“Hate you?” Avery smiled, “My dear, you’re
not important enough for that.” She snorted, “No, you annoy me.
That’s all.”

“Oh. Well then why do I annoy you?”

Avery shrugged, “Do I have to have a
reason?”

“I guess not. But I mean like you don’t get
annoyed by any of the other freshman, so why—“ Val stared at some
nearby stairs, “—I thought we could be friends.”

A cynical laugh escaped Avery’s lips,
“Friends? Me, friends with a freshman?” She laughed again, “That’s
a good one.”

“But that still—you haven’t said—what’s so
annoying about me?”

“Your voice, your personality, the fact you
act like you’re queen of the school.”

“What’s wrong with my voice?”

“’
What’s wrong with my
voice?’” Avery imitated the question in a ridiculously high pitch,
“You sound like Minnie Mouse. It’s seriously soooo
annoying.”

Val swallowed, “And my personality?”

“You’re just too—energetic. Like you’re
constantly on a caffeine high, or like you need to be the center of
attention. And that just feeds into your whole queen-of-the-school
act.”

“I don’t have a queen-of-the-school act,”
Val defended.

“Puh-lease,” Avery drew the word out into
two syllables, “If you want evidence, just look at that speech you
gave in Student Gov yesterday.”

Val flushed, “That wasn’t even my idea
though. And besides, you act more like queen of the school than I
do!”

That drew another laugh from Avery, “That’s
because I am, dear. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m student body
president, captain of the soccer team—oh, and a national honor
society scholar. And my boyfriend is the quarterback. So yeah, I
think I have a bit more claim to the title than you.”

“Porter?” Val clarified.

A flick of anger crossed over Avery’s face,
“Yes. Why, do you know him?”

Val smiled sweetly; the same feeling that
had filled her when she was arguing with Jenny compelled her to
say, “Yeah, he complains about you all the time.”

From the look on Avery’s face, Val knew the
verbal barb had wounded her, “No he doesn’t.”

Val realized it would cause Avery more
distress if she simply walked away, without clarifying or arguing
what Porter may or may not have said. So, satisfied that she had
won the conversation, she left to head to the locker room; Avery
took a few seconds before following her in.

Chapter 13

“But Coach, we can’t be on different teams!”
Porter complained.

“Why not?” Mr. Sharp bemusedly looked from
the blond boy to Val and back again.

“Cause any team I’m on can take the hit; if
you put her on another team, it just wouldn’t be fair to them,”
Porter suggested.

“Hey!” despite knowing she wasn’t the best
football player in existence, Val still found Porter’s argument a
little insulting.

“You guys are on separate teams,” Mr. Sharp
stated matter-of-factly, “And it’s staying that way. I’ve seen the
way she distracts you, Young.”

“But Coach, it’s only a class—it’s not like
I’m asking if she can play on our actual football team.”

“You can’t have it both ways, big guy,” the
teacher replied, “If putting her on a team would be a bad choice
because it would make the team less competitive, then you can’t go
on to say that the competitive aspect of this class doesn’t
matter.”

Porter sighed, “How about if I asked you to
do it as a personal favor?” Val wondered why he was trying so hard
to ensure they’d be on the same team, but kept quiet.

Mr. Sharp nodded, “Is it important to your
mental well-being?”

“Yes Coach.”

“Then it’s done. Weathersby,” Mr. Sharp
shouted at a gangly sophomore, “You’re on team five now! Blondie,”
he turned to Val, “You’re fine with being on Young’s team,
right?”

“Yeah,” Val smiled, “I mean, I’ll end up
having to carry whatever team I’m on, so—“

The bald man laughed, “I can see why you
like her Young. Good looks and a sense of humor, to boot.”

Porter blushed, “I don’t like her—”

“Then why’d you push so hard to have her on
your team? Nevermind, you should get to know your other teammates.”
He waved Val and Porter off; they joined the three boys who would
make up their team for the rest of the class.

“Hey, Young!” A stocky boy greeted Porter as
they approached.

“Josh!” Porter grinned, “Well that settles
it. The rest of you can just kick back while we win all the games
this class.”

The stocky boy laughed, “Oh yeah. I think
we’re the only serious football players signed up this
semester.”

“I dunno,” Porter said, “Do you count
Weathersby?”

“Definitely not.”

“Okay, then we’re the only serious ones in
the class.”

Josh’s eyes shifted to Val; “Oh, I’m sorry.
Where are my manners?” Porter motioned at Val, “Josh, this is Val.
She’s here to fulfil our female quota.”

“Nice. Very nice.” Josh looked Val up and
down, making her feel very uncomfortable, “You’re the one that was
having so much trouble figuring out how to throw a pass,
right?”

“Yup,” Val admitted; she could feel her face
flush.

Josh smiled, “Well I guess we couldn’t have
a perfect team. That would have made things too easy.”

“She’s gonna get better,” Porter promised on
her behalf, “Plus, I convinced Coach to take Weathersby off our
team so we could have her.”

“She
is
an improvement over the runt,”
Josh admitted, “If only because she smells nicer.” He gestured to a
boy who looked to be about his age, “Young, this is my friend
Alexzander. Alex, tell him how you spell your first
name.”

Josh’s friend—a sandy-blonde, pimple-faced
boy—spoke up, “A-l-e-x-z-a-n-d-e-r. It’s not that strange,
really.”

Josh laughed and clapped his friend on the
back, “What I can never get over, is why is the z in there? It’s
just like his parents were all ‘let’s add a random letter just for
fun.’” He looked around, obviously expecting to get a laugh.

None came; “So, you wanna throw the ball
around a little?” Porter asked.

“Hang on,” Val interjected. She looked at
the third, black-haired boy, “I don’t think we’ve been introduced
to you yet. I’m Valentina, but everyone just calls me Val.”

The boy blinked a couple of times before
replying, “Mason.” He offered his hand.

Val had to take a step to be close enough to
shake it, “Nice to meet you Mason. Are you a freshman too?”

“Yeah.” It was apparent the whole exchange
was making him uncomfortable.

A poke to her back made Val jump. She turned
to see Porter pointing to the football bag, “I’m gonna go grab one
so we can toss it around. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Wanna come with?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” It was an odd request; the
trip wasn’t that far.

“So, what do you think of Josh?” Porter
asked while they walked.

Val shrugged, “I dunno, he’s ok. Not the
best sense of humor.”

“Yeah,” Porter laughed, “That’s Josh. He’s a
good guy though, so you shouldn’t hold it against him. Here,
catch.” He tossed a ball to Vall; she tried her best to catch it,
but only succeeded in bobbling it twice before it landed on the
ground.

“By all that’s holy!” Mr. Sharp yelled,
“Blondie, the object is to catch the ball, not juggle it!”

Val looked at Porter, giving him her best
I’m-gonna-fail-this-class expression. “Don’t worry about it,” he
said as they returned to their team, “You just haven’t had a lot of
practice.”

“Or any practice at all.”

They spent the rest of the hour passing the
ball around; Porter gave Val several opportunities to embarrass
herself even more. After she’d dropped her sixth catch in a row,
the bell mercifully rang.

“It’s a good thing you’re a soccer player,”
Porter grinned as they all headed for the locker rooms.

“Well I don’t know if I am yet. Tryouts
aren’t through—and I’m not doing spectacularly,” Val confided.

“You looked like you were doing pretty
well.” When Val gave Porter a confused look, he explained,
“Soccer’s the same time as our weight training for football. I saw
you on the field yesterday as I was heading to my car.”

“Oh, cool.” Val wasn’t
quite sure what to do with the information;
did he leave before I spoke with Avery?

“Yeah. So anyways, I was thinking tomorrow
we could go out to lunch, if you want to. With Derrick,
obviously.”

Val frowned, “But it’s ‘Philly cheesesteak
Friday’, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be. We can go wherever
you want.”

“Okay, then it’s a date!” Val smiled.

“Not a date,” Porter quickly corrected; he
held the door open for Val as they both reentered the school.

“I know. It’s just an expression.” Val
turned off and into the girls’ locker room.

Dylan was almost unbearable in Homeroom; the
Palm Lake government positions were announced over the loudspeaker,
and he perked up when he heard Val’s name.

“I guess it helps when you bully your only
real competition into punching you so she gets suspended,” Dylan
remarked loudly. From their position in the middle of class, Val,
Carrie, and Aaliyah looked at him. Val decided to ignore the
comment and continue studying for her Drawing class, which was set
to have a quiz tomorrow.

“Come on, Miss Class President, I’m talking
to you.”

Val didn’t say
anything,
Complementary colors are colors
on opposite ends of the color wheel,
she
read.

“Just ignore him,” Aaliyah cautioned, “He’ll
get bored soon enough.” Her phone buzzed, “Oh yeah, that reminds
me—“

“Yeah?” Val prompted.

“Do you want to go to a little soiree I’m
hosting on Saturday? It’s not gonna be like a super formal deal,
but if you wanted to come you could.”

Val nodded, “Sure! Sounds fun.” She caught
Aaliyah’s eyes and motioned to Carrie, who was still focusing on
her work.

Aaliyah caught the hint, “And you can come
too, Carrie.”

The brunette’s face twisted in surprise,
“You want me to come?”

“Yeah, of course.” Aaliyah smiled, “The more
the merrier.”

On the other side of the room, Dylan was
still trying to make fun of Val, “I can just see her being the
first female president. Or better yet, the next Monica
Lewinsky.”