Kick It! Read online

  Copyright

  Text copyright © 2003 by Catherine M. Christopher

  Illustrations copyright © 2003 by Daniel Vasconcellos

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Matt Christopher® is a registered trademark of

  Catherine M. Christopher.

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  First eBook Edition: December 2009

  ISBN: 978-0-316-09467-2

  Contents

  Copyright

  Soccer ’Cats Team Roster

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  SOCCER ’CATS

  Soccer ’Cats Team Roster

  Lou Barnes Striker

  Jerry Dinh Striker

  Stookie Norris Striker

  Dewey London Halfback

  Bundy Neel Halfback

  Amanda Caler Halfback

  Brant Davis Fullback

  Lisa Gaddy Fullback

  Ted Gaddy Fullback

  Alan Minter Fullback

  Bucky Pinter Goalie

  Subs:

  Jason Shearer

  Dale Tuget

  Roy Boswick

  Edith “Eddie” Sweeny

  Chapter 1

  Alan Minter wiped the sweat off his nose and put his glasses back in place. All the action was down at the other end of the soccer field at the moment. But he knew that that could change very swiftly. One hard kick by a Panther could send the ball into ‘Cat territory. As one of the Soccer ’Cats fullbacks, it was his job to help defend the goal. He didn’t want to be caught off guard.

  Sure enough, a minute later the Panthers were on the attack. The strikers passed the ball back and forth, dodging around the ‘Cat halfbacks. The halfbacks gave chase, but it wasn’t enough. The Panthers were deep into ‘Cat territory. It was up to the fullbacks now.

  Alan bounced on his feet, ready to move. He kept careful watch on the Panther with the ball. She was dribbling quickly down the side of the field farthest from Alan and seemed determined to bring the ball right up to the goal.

  Then Alan caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head. Another Panther was running down the other sideline, waving his hand in the air!

  She’s going to pass to him! Alan thought. His legs were already carrying him to the space between the two Panthers. A moment later, he’d intercepted the pass.

  With a strong kick, he booted the ball down the sideline to where Lou Barnes, a ‘Cat striker, was waiting. Lou took off, dribbling madly.

  “Great steal! Nice kick!”

  Alan slapped hands with his fellow fullback Edith “Eddie” Sweeny.

  “Man, it’s hot out here today.” Eddie’s fiery red hair and face were damp with perspiration. “Glad we don’t have to do as much running as those strikers.”

  Alan nodded. As he did, his glasses slipped down his sweaty nose again. He took them off and used the hem of his T-shirt to wipe his nose.

  “Here they come! Heads up!”

  The shout took Alan by surprise. He looked up. Without his glasses on, the attacking Panthers were just a blur of movement. But even he could see they were coming fast.

  He ran to his position, fumbling to put his glasses back on as he did. To his horror, he dropped them.

  He had two choices: play without them and hope they didn’t get stepped on, or search around for them —and hope he didn’t get stepped on!

  He chose to play. And it was a good thing he did because the Panther offense was attacking on his side of the field.

  Alan threw himself headlong into the fray. He made out the shape of the ball and stabbed his foot at it. The ball squirted free.

  Alan was the first one to reach it. He planted his left foot on the ground and slashed his right leg forward with all his might. As he did, another player moved in front of him.

  He tried to stop his kick, but it was too late! His foot met bone — and he heard a scream of pain followed by the shriek of the referee’s whistle.

  Chapter 2

  Who is it? Who did I kick?” Alan asked frantically. “Is he —or she —okay? Where are my glasses?”

  Someone handed him his glasses. Miraculously, they had not been broken. Alan put them on and stared at the sight in front of him.

  Eddie lay on the grass. She looked pale. Coach Bradley was kneeling beside her, holding an ice pack to her chin. Blood seeped out from under the pack.

  “Oh, man, oh, man,” Alan moaned. “Is she okay?”

  Coach Bradley pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m not sure, Alan. I’m going to call for an ambulance, just in case.” He dialed 911, told the operator the situation, and hung up. Then he and the referee carefully lifted Eddie and carried her to the sidelines.

  Minutes later, the ambulance drove up with its lights flashing. By that time, Eddie’s mother had arrived. She climbed into the back of the ambulance with Eddie. The doors closed, and the ambulance disappeared down the street.

  Alan couldn’t believe it. He’d kicked his friend in the face and sent her to the hospital!

  He felt a hand slap him on the back.

  “Nice going, Minter,” drawled Brant Davis. Brant played fullback for the ’Cats, too. “Or maybe I should call you Slugger instead? Get it? Slug her?” He laughed.

  Alan stared at Brant. “I don’t think that’s very funny,” he said. “Eddie could be really hurt!”

  Brant rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You have a strong kick, but it’s not that strong! She’ll be fine.”

  Before Alan could reply, the referee blew his whistle. The game was going to start again.

  Coach Bradley laid a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “Are you okay to play?” he asked. “I can sub Jason in for you if you’d like.”

  Alan shook his head. “No, I —I’m fine,” he said. Jason Shearer had missed the last week of practice because his family had been on vacation. Alan thought he might be a little rusty. Besides, there were only a few minutes left in the game.

  Coach Bradley looked at him carefully, then nodded for him to take his position.

  “That a boy, Slugger,” Brant called as Alan jogged onto the field.

  “Brant, stop calling me that or else!” Alan hissed.

  Brant held up his hands, pretending to be scared. “Or else what? Or else you’ll — you’ll — kick me?” His laughter was drowned out by the shrill of the referee’s whistle.

  Darn that Brant! Alan fumed. He tried to put him out of his mind. But when he did, the image of Eddie’s bloody chin popped in. Alan squeezed his eyes shut.

  What if she’s not okay? The thought tormented him for the rest of the game. So did Brant, who called him Slugger every chance he got.

  Alan had never been so happy for a game to end in his life. As soon as the ref blew his whistle, Alan took off for home. He didn’t even bother to see who’d won.

  Chapter 3

  Alan burst in the door of his kitchen. He found the telephone book and looked up Eddie’s number. But when he dialed the number, all he got was the answering machine. With a sigh, he left his name and number and his reason for calling. He wished he knew where the ambulance had taken her.

  Mrs. Mi
nter came into the kitchen to find Alan slumped at the table. “Goodness, what’s wrong?”

  Alan told her what had happened.

  Mrs. Minter picked up the phone. “She’s probably at Mercy Emergency.” She dialed a number, waited, then spoke to the person who answered. She jotted down some information on a piece of paper, then hung up.

  “Eddie’s going to be fine,” she reported. “She needed a few stitches in her chin, that’s all. And she has one whopper of a headache.”

  “Stitches?” Alan didn’t like the sound of that.

  His mother ruffled his hair. “Tell you what. Why don’t you take a quick shower, then we’ll go to the mall and see if we can find something to bring Eddie to cheer her up. How’s that sound?”

  “Could we go see her tonight?” Alan wanted to know.

  Mrs. Minter shook her head. “Let’s save the visit for tomorrow, after she’s had a good night’s sleep, okay?”

  Alan nodded, then headed to the bathroom for a shower. When he emerged, he found a snack waiting for him. He ate it quickly, wanting to get to the mall as soon as possible.

  Ten minutes later, he and his mother were wandering through the aisles of a toy store.

  “Do you think she’d like a stuffed animal?” Mrs. Minter asked. She held up a soft dog and made its tail wag. Alan gave a weak smile, but shook his head.

  “I think she’d like a game better,” he said. They moved on to the game aisle.

  “How about Chinese checkers?” Mrs. Minter pulled a box from the shelf. Alan examined it.

  The game board was shaped like a star. Each point was a different color and held marbles of the same color in little holes. The marbles winked in the light. Alan thought the game looked pretty, but he wondered if it was fun to play.

  Mrs. Minter explained the game. “The object is to be the first one to get your marbles across the board and into another star point. You can only move one marble one space at a time, although you can jump over an opponent’s marble to get to an open spot.”

  “Do you capture the marbles, like in regular checkers?”

  His mother shook her head. “No. But if you’re clever, you can block your opponent and keep her from being able to move where she wants to go,” she answered. “So, what do you think?”

  Alan nodded. “Let’s get it,” he said. He hoped Eddie would like it.

  Chapter 4

  When they got home from the mall, Alan wrapped the game. The next morning, he carried it to Eddie’s house. Eddie herself answered the door.

  Alan tried not to stare. Eddie’s chin was covered with thick gauze held in place by white tape. Some of the gauze had little red spots on it. Alan realized the spots were blood. He felt a little queasy.

  Eddie, on the other hand, seemed like her usual self. “It hurts a little bit when I smile or laugh,” she said. “But the doctor says I’ll be fine. If there’s a scar, it’ll be tough to see.”

  She led Alan into the kitchen. “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the present.

  Alan finally found his tongue. “It’s for you.”

  Eddie tore open the package. “Chinese checkers! Cool!” she exclaimed. Then she winced and put her hand to her chin.

  “Are you okay?” Alan asked anxiously.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Eddie grumbled. “Sometimes the tape pulls my skin, that’s all.” She sat down and pulled the lid off the game. “So, want to play?”

  Alan sat across from her. “If you’re sure you’re not too tired, or —”

  Eddie waved her hand. “I told you, I’m fine! I’m going to be the green marbles,” she said. “You be red.”

  Alan was soon so absorbed in the game that he forgot about Eddie’s injury. The two played Chinese checkers for the rest of the morning. Only when the clock struck eleven did he remember he had to go home for lunch.

  “Thanks for playing with me,” Eddie said, closing up the board. “Come again tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Alan replied. He felt much better. Eddie really did seem to be all right.

  He left her house whistling a tune. As he rounded a corner, he bumped into Brant — and his good mood vanished.

  “Whoa, Slugger. Don’t kick me, I’ll get out of your way!”

  “Very funny,” Alan said, trying to move past him.

  Brant moved with him. “So, what brings you to my street?” he wanted to know. Then he snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute. Eddie lives over there, doesn’t she? What were you doing, returning to the scene of the crime or something?” He laughed again.

  Alan rolled his eyes and kept walking. That Brant really burns me up! he thought angrily.

  * * *

  The next day, Alan headed for Eddie’s house again. Along the way, he passed an empty lot filled with wildflowers. He knew it was nice to bring sick or injured people flowers, so he picked a bunch to bring to Eddie. To his dismay, he ran into Brant again just as he was leaving the lot.

  “Slugger!” Brant cried. He looked at the flowers and raised his eyebrows. “Are those for me?”

  Alan tried to push by him, but Brant caught his sleeve. “Hold on. Are you bringing those to Eddie?”

  Alan pulled free and hurried away. But he wasn’t fast enough to keep from hearing Brant call out, “Alan’s got a girlfriend! Alan’s got a girlfriend!”

  Chapter 5

  Alan didn’t see Brant on his way home from Eddie’s that day. That was fine with him. He knew he’d see him at the soccer field the next day, when the ’Cats played the Torpedoes.

  Maybe he’ll be tired of teasing me by then, Alan thought. But somehow, he doubted it.

  He was right. The minute he arrived at the field the next afternoon, Brant sidled over to him.

  “Hey, Slugger, looks like your girlfriend came to cheer you on.” He pointed to the stands. Eddie was sitting there. Her bulky gauze had been replaced by a smaller bandage. When she saw Alan and Brant looking at her, she waved.

  “Aww, isn’t that sweet?” Brant cooed. Then he laughed and walked away, leaving Alan burning with embarrassment.

  The ’Cats and the Torpedoes warmed up, then took their positions on the field. The ref blew his whistle, and the game began.

  The Torpedoes had won the coin toss, so they had the ball first. The center striker nudged it to his left wing. The wing quickly passed it to the other wing. The right wing took off down the field, dribbling carefully.

  Amanda tried to stop him. The Torpedo dodged around her, then passed back to the center. Bundy did his best to intercept the pass, but he missed. Suddenly, the Torpedo offense was heading right for the goal!

  Ted Gaddy and Brant went after the player with the ball. Lisa Gaddy and Alan hung back, keeping an eye on the other two forwards. If the center passed the ball off, they would be ready to steal it.

  Ted finally freed the ball. He booted it to the side, but the kick wasn’t strong enough to get it out from in front of the goal. The Torpedo nearest to Alan rushed to get it. But Alan was a step closer. If he could get off a quick, solid kick, he could send the ball down to where the ‘Cat halfbacks were waiting.

  As the Torpedo bore down on him, he pulled his foot back. But at that second, the memory of what it had felt like when his foot had struck Eddie’s chin popped into his head.

  Swish! He missed the ball completely!

  Alan spun around just in time to see the Torpedo slamming the ball past Bucky Pinter and into the net. Torpedoes 1, ’Cats 0.

  Alan was dumbfounded. The Torpedoes had scored on their very first play of the game —and it was all his fault for missing the ball.

  “Put it out of your mind, Alan, and get into position,” called Bucky from the goal. “It’s our turn to put one between their posts!”

  “Yeah, shake it off, Alan,” Ted echoed.

  Alan nodded. He felt bad about the goal and was determined not to mess up again.

  Yet less than five minutes later, he flubbed another kick. Once again, he was racing a Torpedo to the ball. And once again, just as he wa
s about to give the ball a hard boot, he remembered the accident.

  This time he managed to kick the ball—but his kick was so weak the ball only dribbled forward a few feet! The Torpedo looked surprised, but quickly recovered. She swung her leg forward and booted the ball right into the net. Torpedoes 2, ’Cats 0.

  If Alan had felt bad before, now he felt miserable. This time no one told him to shake it off. In fact, no one said anything—except Brant.

  “Hey, Slugger, stop daydreaming about your girlfriend and keep your mind on the game!”

  Chapter 6

  The rest of the first half was a disaster for Alan. He messed up kick after kick. Finally, he just stopped going for the ball at all.

  Coach Bradley had no choice but to sub Jason in for him at the start of the second half. Alan didn’t blame him. He would have done the same thing.

  Partway through the second half, the coach sat down beside him.

  “Everything okay, Alan?” he asked.

  Alan sighed. “I don’t know what was wrong with me today, coach,” he admitted. “I just couldn’t seem to kick the ball, that’s all.”

  The coach was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Alan, kicking Eddie was just a freak accident. Anybody could have done it.” He glanced at the stands. Alan could hear Eddie screaming encouragement to her teammates. “And she seems perfectly fine, don’t you think?”

  Alan nodded.

  “So I think you owe it to yourself and your team to forgive yourself and put what happened out of your head. If you do, I’ll bet you get your kick back.”

  “I’ll try,” Alan promised.

  “That’s all I can ask for,” the coach said. “Now why don’t you sub in for Ted? He looks like he needs a rest.”

  Alan shot the coach a grateful look. Then he checked in at the scorer’s table and ran onto the field when the ref gave him the go-ahead.