Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters Read Online Free Page B

of my boobs or whatever.”
    “Let’s just say I think we will all have a splendid year and leave it at that,” I say loftily. Keri and Ana laugh.
    “You gonna go for left—”
    “Pay attention!” a mean-looking girl (who has clearly never come into contact with a much-needed pair of tweezers) snaps at us. Yeesh. This isn’t the army, for Pete’s sake. Chill out.
    A coach blows her whistle, so we shut up and get ready for drills. Passing to the other line down the field, sprinting and shooting on the goal, speed ladders … it’s exhausting, but I’m so pumped up with adrenaline that I kind of coast along. I think the coach who’s working with our group has noticed me, because she keeps putting me in the line with the faster runners each round. And I only missed once on goal, which is pretty good.
    After about a thousand hours of drills, we get divided up into groups for scrimmages; Ana is on my team, which is great, because I know how she plays. We get our pinnies—disgusting yellow mesh vests that go on over our shirts—and line up. I’m playing right wing, which is fine. The important thing is to stand out. I desperately want to avoid getting stuck on third string, which is basically the team for everyone who didn’t make JV. Usually all freshmen and maybe a sophomore or two.
    Third string does not fit into my plan for the year.
    We get the whistle to start, and the girl I’m guarding, Sara, is the fastest runner I’ve ever seen—I can barely keep up with her. Of course, she’s also about six inches taller than I am, which definitely gives her an edge.
    I decide to try a different strategy about halfway through the game and go way back toward my team’s goal instead of chasing her. When the goalie blocks a shot, it goes flying right to me. I stop it with my knee, snag the ball, and just GO GO GO down the field on the opposite side. Yessssss!
    I’m running like crazy and I just know Sara is on top of me but I pass to Ana and keep going and she crosses it back to me and I kick as hard as I can on an angle—YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!! I accept high fives from my teammates as I jog off the field. There’s no way the coach won’t consider me for JV now. Maybe even varsity, which would be crazy incredible. I’m so psyched I can barely keep still, but Ana and Keri and I sit together to watch some of the other groups play. I’m pleased to note that Ms. Crazy Eyebrows is not very good—hopefully she’ll end up on third string and I won’t get stuck being snarled at by her for the rest of the season.
    The following Monday, after a rousing debate in econ with Danny “Meat-Scented For Your Horror” Zifner over whether making a poster with colored markers is too juvenile (it is), I ditch my books and head with Em and Cass to the cafeteria for lunch. On the way, we see a crowd of kids around the bulletin board where they post notices and stuff, all looking very excited. Could they have posted team rosters already? The older kids started tryouts before the first day of school, so maybe …
    All of a sudden I’m really nervous. What if the coach didn’t notice me at all? What if I do make JV but I’m the worst one on the team and instead of starting I end up on the bench all season, totally humiliated? What if—
    “Let’s go look!” Em says excitedly, and she and Cass start to shove me forward.
    “Kels, this is your big moment! Get up there!” Cass exclaims. She and Em are giving me huge, encouraging smiles, so I take a deep breath, tell myself, This is your year of greatness! Pull it together, Finkelstein! and elbow up toward the board.
    Field hockey, football, and tennis are up there, too, so the crowd is pretty intense. Luckily they list girls and guys separately or I’d probably get squashed by some overexcited linebacker. I’m almost to the board when I spot Ana in the front of the mob, giving me a thumbs-up. My heart leaps—does that mean she made it, or I did, or both? Or is she just doing weird