Gracie by Suzanne Weyn Page B

anxiously.

    â€œFine,” I replied coolly.
    Johnny’s cleats and his hawk were on the kitchen table. They’d been looking around in my room! “You touched my stuff!” I accused angrily, grabbing the cage and heading up to my room.
    It had been a very long day and, what with the beer and all, I was asleep in two seconds.
    I felt as though I’d been asleep exactly ten minutes, though it had really been longer, when I was awakened by a wash of dawn light in my face. Dad had pulled open the drapes.
    Was he crazy!? I rolled to the edge of my bed to escape the light.
    â€œDon’t make me get ice water,” he said. Whatever he was up to, he meant business.

    We were waiting at Coach Colasanti’s office before he even got there. He wasn’t surprised to see me, but he was puzzled by Dad’s appearance. “Grace wants to play Varsity soccer,” Dad announced.
    I looked up at him, shocked. He hadn’t said a word the whole trip over. I figured he was going to tell the coach not to let me use the weight room anymore. This was the last thing I’d expected, especially after yesterday.
    Coach Colasanti unlocked his office and gestured for us to come in and sit down. He opened his container of coffee and took a sip before speaking. “That’s terrific, really great, but Columbia doesn’t have a girls’ team,” he replied.

    â€œThat’s why she’s trying out for the boys’ team,” Dad came back at him.
    â€œNo, I’m not,” I jumped in. My game at the old stadium had proved to me that I wasn’t nearly good enough. Dad held his hand up to me, telling me to stop talking and listen.
    â€œI can’t have a girl playing on a boys’ team,” the coach insisted.
    â€œThere’s no law against it,” Dad said.
    â€œThere’s no law for it,” Coach Colasanti countered. “She could get injured.”
    â€œSo could any boy,” Dad pointed out.
    The coach sipped his coffee and took a moment to think about Dad’s words. Then he shook his head. “I’m not risking the success of my team for one girl. We have the team this year to win the whole thing—”
    â€œGrace could help you get there,” Dad interrupted him. “Have you seen her play?”
    My head snapped around as I looked at him in amazement. This was a first! Never before had he even hinted that he thought I was a good player!
    â€œWe’re not asking for special treatment, just a tryout,” Dad continued.
    Coach Colasanti looked at me with doubt in his eyes.
    â€œShe can either do it or she can’t,” Dad pressed.
    Coach Colasanti pushed back in his chair. “Anyway, it’s not my call. Take it up with the School Board.”
    Dad nodded and got up, thanking the coach for his time. I followed him out of the gym. When we were in the hall, I exploded: “What the hell was that about?”

    â€œYou wanted to play, so let’s petition the Board,” he said.
    He’d forgotten one little detail. I had flunked history. There were a couple more weeks of school, but not enough time to reverse it. “Too little too late,” I reminded him as I turned to walk away.
    â€œYou’ll do summer school in the morning and train in the afternoon,” he said. “We’ve got months until tryouts.”
    I just didn’t get him. Now he was all gung ho to train me? Why? “Where were you when I begged you?” I asked angrily. “Where have you been my whole life? Everything’s always been about Johnny, about your boys! You never loved me! Do you even know who I am?”
    We stared at each other. It was all out now. I’d said what I really felt—and he had no reply. I knew he wouldn’t, so I turned to walk away.
    â€œGracie!” he shouted when I was nearly down the hall.
    He wanted me to do what he said, to stop being such a pain and do it his way. He always