May/June 2016

Pass. Kick. Goal. Those are pretty much the words I live by. It would also be accurate to say that every day after school I put on shin guards and pull tight the waxy, black laces on my shiny coal-colored cleats. I play through weather, bad days, homework overloads, injuries, and anything else you may encounter in daily life. I play until the crickets come out and it gets cold and the sky is slowly steeped with rose, magenta, tangerine, and lemon zest. On the weekends my best friend Janina and I adventure together. It could be her painting my portrait, going skiing, swimming in icy mountain lakes, etc. One weekend, Janina surprised me by blurting out, “I want to be as good at soccer as you are, Rachel!” That was just about the most shocking statement Janina has ever made, and that’s saying something, considering that she’s crazier than me! This was so knock-you-off-your-feet, because Janina’s life is essentially art. My life is essentially soccer. Janina’s an artsy daydreamer. I’m a soccer star. Our friendship is based on the quote “opposites attract.” We are not meant to be on a sports team together. Luckily, I was stable enough to find my bearings and replied, “Nina, you should sign up for the team!” The moment the words left my lips, I regretted them. My BFF was cut out for art, and maybe even hiking, but definitely not club soccer: a pressurized, play-harder-than-your-hardest sport. “You’re the best best friend ever!” “Really?” Janina asked. “I always thought that you thought I was terrible at soccer, but you’ve proved me wrong! Yessss! I’m gonna sign up for the team right away!” As I tried to glue on a smile and stop my hands from sweating, Janina added, “You’re the best best friend ever!” It was too much to bear. “Uh, thanks. Shoot, I just realized that I, uh, need to be home now!” Before Janina could say anything, I whipped out my phone and dialed home. I tried to ignore her puzzled face as I asked Mom for a ride home. “Bye, Janina!” I called as I ran out the door. My face turned beet red as I added, “Can’t wait until you sign up for the team!” Then I turned and sprinted down the street towards home, forgetting about Mom coming to pick me up. *          *          * “Rachel, sweetie, all I’m saying is that you aren’t the kind of girl who would do that to a friend!” Mom piled on the guilt by topping everything off with, “Janina called five times this evening!” “You just don’t get it!” I said in an almost whisper. If I had been brave enough, I would have told my mom that Janina is my best friend in the whole wide world who manages me after losing a game, who I can tell anything and everything and will surely understand, and always knows what to do… and I completely lied to her. With that thought, my brimming wall of tears split and out came a flood. The tears splashed onto my red cheeks and I ran up the stairs desperately to the safety of my room. *          *          * When I got to the park early Saturday morning, it turned out that my hopes from the morning were ninety-percent desperation. Janina isn’t the kind of girl who says something and doesn’t follow up. I found her in the park, waiting expectantly for the team. The last word I’d use to describe Janina then would be soccer player. She was wearing jean shorts that looked tight and uncomfortable. No cleats or shin guards, just simple sandals. Janina smoothed her silky blouse and tossed some wavy black hair behind her shoulder. “Uh… are you, ya know, still signed up for the team?” I asked. “Of course!” fizzed Janina. “It’s just that I don’t have the equipment yet. So today I’ll just meet everyone.” “Ohhhh… that’s, that’s fine,” I said uncertainly. “I like your outfit.” I felt guilty for adding that comment, but at least it broke the awkward silence that used to never occur between us. *          *          * The next few weeks of my life went terribly. At practice, Janina tripped and fell, kicked with her toe, passed the ball to the other team. She also asked embarrassing, dumb questions like, “What does the defense do again?” It seemed like she was trying to embarrass herself! Coach put the pressure on and held practice every day since the championship games were coming up. That was usually a stressful time of the year, but now it was unimaginable. To top it all off, Janina and I grew further and further apart, until I could hardly even call her my best friend. One evening, after a particularly exasperating practice, coach called us all into a circle. “Now,” she said, “we all know that our game which decides whether we go on to the championship finals or not is tomorrow.” We all nodded with nervous, soccer-loving smiles. “I have some homework for you tonight.” Some of the older girls like Suzie and Bella groaned. “I want you to think about what the word ohana means. You can ask parents, siblings, Google it, whatever. I just want you to be able to tell me what it means tomorrow.” With that, coach left our circle of confused girls. After a pause Janina picked up her duffel bag and left with a weak wave. Then, one of the nicest girls on the team, Natalie, left after a cheery goodbye. “Man!” Suzie said. “Janina stunk like my second uncle’s weird aged cheddar cheese today!” “I know, right?” Bella joined in. “She missed that one goal that any of us could make!” Bella gestured around the circle and the other girls nodded. Soon enough, everybody except for me dished out their share of mean comments about Janina. And when I say everybody, I mean my friends, my team, my family. Their expectant looks destroyed