Paula Stokes - The Art of Lainey

“Definitely,” Bianca says. “Mizzou might offer you a scholarship.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really get scouted by anyone last season. And Mizzou only gives out a couple of soccer scholarships to entering freshmen each year.”

“So then you can get loans if you need to,” she says.

“It seems stupid to go into debt when I can take classes where my mom teaches for free.” I stare off into the distance. “I’m not sure I’m good enough to play for a Division I school.”

“You’re totally good enough.” Bee sits at the edge of the cliff, dangling her legs over the side. And for some people that would just be them telling me what I want to hear, but I know Bianca means it. My eyes start to water.

“Thanks.” I turn and wipe away a stray tear before she sees it. “How’d you even find this place?” I ask, changing the subject.

She pats the ground next to her. Reluctantly I take a seat. I’m a little afraid of heights. “The new guy at work said he likes to jog this route,” she says.

“What new guy?”

“Leo. You’ve seen him. He goes to school with us. Kind of preppy?”

“Oh, right.” I do remember my dad giving the standard Denali tour to some kid dressed like a golfer. “Did Ebony hire him? He seems too normal to have attracted her attention.” I raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Maybe his tattoos and piercings are in more discreet places.”

“You’re bad.” Bee giggles. “I think Micah recommended him.”

I snicker. “He seems too normal to have attracted Micah’s attention.”

“They live in the same apartment building. Your dad had me training him on the register yesterday and we got to talking.” Bianca, pauses, looking down at the cars. “I’m glad you’re making jokes, Lainey. I was starting to worry about you.”

I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Sorry about getting all dramatic and keeping you on the phone. That was pretty lame.”

“You’re not lame,” Bee says. “With or without Jason, your life is still amazing, you know?”

“I guess.” But ever since the day Jason dumped me, I’ve felt less and less sure about that. Almost anyone can be successful at sports if they work hard. Even popularity is more about who you know than who you are. Being Jason’s girlfriend was different. A guy who could date almost anyone picked me . With him, I felt part of something bigger. Just like with Kendall, he made me feel invincible, like things would work out for me no matter what. Once you’ve experienced that, it’s kind of hard to give it up.

Bianca and I finish our run at the park across the street from my house. We guzzle water from a fountain shaped like a lion’s head, and then Bee jogs over to the curb and pulls a soccer ball out of her trunk. I groan.

“What? Are you tired?” she asks. “You were the one ready to beg to play on Jason’s coed team. How about you practice with me?”

“I don’t know. I’m kind of exhausted just from the drama of the past few days.”

“I get it,” Bee says. “But I know how much you want a scholarship. This thing with Jason is out of your control at the moment. But soccer—no one can take that from you unless you let them.”

“How’d you get so smart?” I snatch the ball out of her hands and twirl it between my fingers.

“I watch people. I see things.”

And that’s Bee. A watcher. A “think first and leap later” girl.

“I just figure instead of obsessing about what is out of your hands, why not control the things you can?” she adds.

“Okay.” I toss her the ball and mop the sweat from my forehead. “But prepare to be dominated.”

For the next thirty minutes, we play one-on-one, chasing each other up and down the full-length field. I score the first goal and impulsively turn cartwheels all the way back to midfield.

“That’s the Lainey I know,” Bee says as I collapse in a heap of giggles.

She fights back and ties the score, pulling a couple of nice moves to pass me on her way to the goal.

“Somebody’s been practicing without me.” I chase her down the field.

“Two brothers,” she hollers back.

“No fair. My brother never played soccer.” I put my game face back on and manage to score twice more. When we finally decide we’ve had enough, I’m still ahead, three goals to one, but both Bianca and I are smiling. I realize our “game” is the first time in days that I’ve thought about something other than Jason.

After a break, Bee practices throw-ins and then plays goalie so I can take a few penalty shots.

I’m feeling giddy, so good I could probably practice all day, when I notice my arms are looking a little pink. The sun seems to be centered exactly over the field where we’re practicing and I only put sunscreen on my face.

“I’m turning into a lobster,” I say, passing the ball to Bianca and heading for the nearest shade. We both collapse onto the ground beneath an ancient oak tree. I feel my stomach rise and fall with each breath.

“So.” Bee blots her forehead on the sleeve of her T-shirt. “You’re sure you’re ready to see him?”

“Ready,” I confirm. “And thanks for the workout. It felt good.”

“Maybe we can still get on a rec team somewhere.” She tosses the ball up into the sky and then catches it on her fingertips.

Bianca wanted to sign us up to play soccer for her church on Saturday nights. I told her no because I figured I’d be playing on Jason’s team and hanging out with him on the weekends.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “Like you said, we can work out together. Besides, August practices for the Archers will be here before I know it.” The St. Louis Archers is the select team I play for during the off-season. “You should try out too.”

“Nah. I get enough soccer in the spring,” Bee says. “My fall schedule is full of AP classes. I’m going to need my free time for studying.”

“Sounds boring.” I nudge her in the ribs. “Think about it. I bet you would totally make it.”

“All right. I’ll think about it.” She hops to her feet and lifts one of her legs behind her, pressing the heel of her shoe against her butt. She does the same thing with the other side, and then pulls the foot almost all the way up to her head. I watch with envy. I’m not even close to that flexible. “So what’s the plan for Jason?” she asks.

“I’m thinking maybe I should wait until Monday,” I say. “That’ll be a whole week since we’ve talked, and I know he has a ride-along shift so I can catch him if I go by his dad’s place in the morning.”

Bee leans against a tree and starts stretching her hamstrings. “You don’t think that’s a little stalkerish?”

“I think he shouldn’t have given me his schedule for all of June if he was going to break up with me at the beginning of the month,” I say. “Besides, if I call him, he’ll just ignore me. I need to swoop in like a falcon or something, right? Be unexpected. Be bold. Whatever.”

“Good point. You want me to spend the night Sunday so I can help you get ready?”

“That would be all kinds of epic.” I look up at her. “You can keep me from chickening out.”

“I’ve known you for what, ten years? I’ve never seen you chicken out,” Bee says. “If anyone can make this work, it’s you.” She reaches down and pulls me to my feet.

“With your help,” I remind her.

“With my help.” She smiles. “All right. I need to take off. My mom wants me to watch my brothers so she can sleep.” Bee’s mom is a nurse who works night shifts, and her dad travels a lot for work. Her little brothers, Elias and Miguelito, are cute, but rowdy.

“Doesn’t your grandma ever watch them?”