Chapter 1

I cranked up the volume on my iPOD, the music’s driving rhythm in perfect sync with my pounding feet. It was about the only thing keeping me going. My usual energy had disappeared a few blocks back and the sweat dripping down my face was blurring my vision. Bowman’s Hill was always tough, but never like this. I had to keep pushing to finish and it wasn’t the first time I wished I’d done my running in the morning. What was I thinking, waiting until the hottest part of the day?

I could see the top of the hill. Not much more, almost there. I glanced at my watch and saw nothing but zeroes. No, Jackie! How could you be so stupid? I forgot to set my watch again so I wouldn’t know my time. I stopped running, clasped my hands over my head, and tried walking off my frustration.

The time on my run today didn’t have to be written down or anything, but knowing what I could do was super important to me, it was all about making the team. All summer I’d been doing the coach’s training program trying to get my time down in the mile run. Every freshmen field hockey player had to be able to do the mile in less than eight minutes on the first day of practice, so my goal was to beat this time by a whole minute and then some. I figured a good time could be the best way to impress my new coach.

My eyes were still stinging from the sweat. Wiping my face with the bottom of my tank top didn’t seem to help much and I had to keep pacing around so my legs didn’t tighten up. I had to admit it, Mom was right. I was a scatter brain for forgetting and now it was costing me. Dumb, dumb, dumb!

A couple of deep breaths later I wandered over to the big oak tree and plopped down to grab some shade. I loved sitting there, it was my favorite spot. From under this tree my whole world spread out before me, my hometown, Cumberland’s Crossing. The town got its name from some general guy who fought in the Revolutionary War or something. So, I guess you could say the place was pretty ancient.

Off in the distance was my old school, Washington Elementary. I’d gone there since kindergarten and liked everything about it. Okay, maybe not all the homework. The best part was the playgrounds and ball fields scattered behind the school where I spent lots of good times playing with my friends.

A breeze started to stir up the late afternoon air and I lifted my face towards the sky to catch it. It got me wondering, like how it might be cool to have another year at the old school, be the big shot eighth graders again, but I guessed no one got ‘do-overs.’

I shook my head at my goofy thinking. I was probably the only person in the whole freshmen class that had the jitters about going to high school. At my eighth grade graduation I sure wasn’t thinking about the fall. Back then it was all about summer vacation. Then a week after graduation, I got this huge manila envelope in the mail. Wham, just like that, everything changed. High school was racing towards me, slamming me right in the face. See, inside the envelope, besides a letter, was a big time workout program from my new field hockey coach. And then the letter said how there was going to be cuts for the freshmen team, so we better be prepared.

Talk about panic attack. You have to understand, for me, playing on the field hockey team was what going to high school was all about. I mean, really, how could it not, wearing the school colors and charging down the field, that’s like life, right? All the rest was just something you just put up with ‘til you could get to practice. ‘Course, parents didn’t need to know that stuff, but I had to be honest, that’s the way it was for me.

Sitting under the tree, part of the coach’s program flashed in my mind and I tried to picture all the new stretches she wanted us to do. My stomach started rumbling a bit and I swore I could smell my mom’s lasagna baking. Just the anticipation of my favorite dinner was all the motivation I needed to begin my jog back home. The smell got stronger the closer I got to my house and then it really hit me as I walked in the back door. Love you, Mom. Summer barbeque had been getting old lately, so, I was glad my mom was up for the change too.

As soon as the back door slammed, Mom called out from the laundry room, “Jackie, set the table for dinner, but not a place for your brother.” I rolled my eyes. Like I didn’t know where Matt was right now.

The lucky duck had been having soccer practice at the high school for the last two weeks. The varsity hockey girls were there too. I was bummed that freshmen couldn’t practice ‘til school started which was really a dumb rule if you asked me.

“And Jackie,” she added, “Don’t forget you have an appointment for a hair cut tomorrow.” I groaned to myself, forgot about that one.

“Maybe I don’t need to go, my hair is fine the way it is,” I yelled back. Mom came into the kitchen on that one. I reached up and started smoothing out my traffic light, red hair that was pulled up into a ponytail. I was hoping that it’d somehow show her that I knew what I was talking about when it came to hair needs.