And as Noah left the field, he gave a chin nod. In my direction. I was sure of it.
The next round was a blur. The counselors handed out slushies while we watched a pair of Gazelles versus a pair of Badgers. The Green Gazelle girl—Alicia was her name—who’d had the streamers in her wheels on the very first day of camp kept having the worst luck. Her balloon was captured twice. But then, somehow, she and her partner, a teeny-tiny girl who seemed hardly taller than the wheelchair she was pushing, were total Energizer Bunnies and ended up scoring three goals—in a row! The Gazelles’ face paint was dripping down their shirts in the heat—good thing those were green too.
And the Badgers were really good at… popping their balloons. They jokingly blamed the freshly cut grass. Balloon death by grass, ha! In the end, the Gazelles creamed them. I was having so much fun that I forgot I was up next!
CHAPTER 33
Okay, so now it was my turn to get out there. Karyn was supposed to be with me, but at the last minute, she needed the bathroom and told me to get goals for her. I told her we’d wait but she insisted. Okay, yikes! I needed to double-psych myself up. I could get all sweaty and mess up, or I could glow and be magnificent. That might be hard. I already had some skills at the sweaty, messy stuff. But I did have a secret weapon—I could kick! I channeled my dad, who was always yelling at soccer players on TV, telling them what they should do, or should have done. If he were here, he’d be saying, Melody, you are a kicking machine! Just get out there and do you!
Jocelyn stepped in to be my driver—and she was so ready. I raised my arm to let her know I was ready too. Yep, psyched!
My wheelchair actually has straps on the footrests that keep my legs from kicking out involuntarily. Trinity unfastened them, and if my legs cooperated, I felt like I could knock a ball, or, in our case, a balloon, a hundred feet in the air. Or at least a few inches.
“We got this, got this, got this,” Jocelyn said, her voice steely serious. “The Panthers don’t know the power of you and me together out there!”
I reached for her hand, and we did a quick squeeze.
The midday sun above was a ball of fire. Perfect, because that was what I felt like. I was already feeling sorry for that balloon—because I was ready! And I better be, because Kim thrust an orange one into my hands.
Ding-a-ling! And we were off! I could hear my girls screaming behind us, “Go, Jocelyn! Go, Melody!”
Definitely not a phrase I hear every day.
I ran my job through my head: kick this thing across the field and hope it landed in one of the goal boxes at the other end. If the balloon popped, I had to start over. If I captured the other team’s balloon, five points! Easy, right?
Dozens of runaway balloons were bobbing on the grassy field.
But here we go! I gotta tell you—Jocelyn was fast. She gave my chair a twenty-degree turn in the direction of our balloon, which I’d thrown ahead of us. A wind kicked up again, and we were suddenly in the center of blue balloons. They seemed to be floating away from their “team” and landing near me. Did I try to capture some, or just kick? I thought fast—I’m better at kicking than catching—so I kicked out, and I connected! Yes!!!
I tried again—and I connected again. This one floated just a few inches, then landed. Still, I did that! Then I managed to boot another one, but while it soared for a few seconds, it floated away, landing on the dirt road on the other side of the fence.
We got a new balloon, then Jocelyn was racing back down our lane, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Kick, Melody! Just do it!”
From the sidelines I could hear the rest of the Falcons. “Kick it, girl! Kick it!” and “Go, Jocelyn! Look at you go!”
I’m not even sure what a dropkick is, but that was the energy I gave my next punt. That helpless balloon was under my power this time! And that Felt. So. Good. It was in my control! It spun and whirled in a perfect arc and in the exact right direction. Jocelyn raced after it so fast we rode right into it, and—oh my gosh, it connected with my head and still went forward! I heard kids, even from other teams, screaming, “Go Melody!”
And you know what? I was sweaty and I thought my underarms were funky, and I didn’t care!
In the middle of all that noise and excitement, I glanced around and couldn’t help but grin. All around me were kids screaming with passion, screeching with excitement, and sweating in the summer heat—playing a game with crazy rules and cheering for each other to win. And I was right there in the middle of it—I might even be a key player! For just a second I let my mind drift back to the playground at school, where my classmates would play stuff like four square or Heads Up or whatever they felt like. I was, of course, never included. I sat under a nearby tree and watched them scream and run and giggle. It never occurred to me that I could play too. Not once.
So I was in this to win this! I kicked again—the balloon floated sideways toward the Panthers’ lane, but Jocelyn got us over to it just as Malik charged toward it.
“That balloon is mine, Melody!” Malik growled, Brock swinging him to the left for the kick.
But not if Jocelyn had anything to do with it! She was unstoppable! I never realized how strong she was. She never stopped running, never stopped maneuvering my chair exactly where we needed to be. Zoom! Glide! Swivel!
She set me up, and… I gave it one more kick right toward the box, up… up… up…. It tumbled over itself, and it landed—no, not in the goal, not in the Panthers’ lane… it hovered in the air as if hesitating, then it spun and landed in my lap. I grabbed it like it was a treasure. I hugged it close. Fifty points!!
I saw Noah on the sidelines—he was waving wildly, and I waved my balloon.