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    Offside
    Offside
    Offside
    Ebook74 pages51 minutes

    Offside

    By M. G. Higgins

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Between finishing late school projects and looking after her brothers and sister, Faith Patel barely has time to play soccer. And when she's at practice, surrounded by girls who can afford to play in club leagues, she doesn't even feel like part of the team. So when Coach Berg starts to give Faith extra attention, she feels . . . really special. It might be crazy, but suddenly Faith has a crush on her coach. Can she keep her head in the game? The situation gets worse after Faith's frenemy Caitlyn decides that Faith's getting special treatment. Will Caitlyn tell the rest of the team—and make Faith into a total outcast?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLerner Publishing
    Release dateAug 1, 2013
    ISBN9781467731256
    Author

    M. G. Higgins

    M. G. Higgins writes fiction for children and young adults. She's loved baseball since she went to her first Dodger's game at the age of six.

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      Book preview

      Offside - M. G. Higgins

      F

      aith turned up the volume on her iPod. But it still couldn’t block out the sound of her little brothers screaming in the next bedroom. Between the noise coming through the apartment walls and her old computer software crashing at the worst possible moment, she’d have to stay up all night if she wanted to finish the health report that was due the next day.

      Yanking out her earbuds, she yelled, Will you please. Shut! Up!

      Like always, Faith instantly felt guilty for shouting. But at least they seemed to quiet down.

      She had typed one sentence when Antim screamed, Give it back!

      No! Vijay cried.

      Faith! Vijay isn’t being fair! Antim whined through the wall.

      Faith sighed. Sending a silent prayer to the word-processing gods, she clicked Save and strode into her brothers’ bedroom. Six-year-old Antim’s cheeks were streaked with tears. Vijay, eight, glowered at his younger brother. Faith could see the head of a Lego person in his tight fist. Lego pieces were scattered across the floor.

      Both of you, play fair. And clean up.

      But—

      "No buts! Work it out between yourselves. Just do it quietly. Faith glanced at the boys’ purple dinosaur clock. It was after ten. Where’s your sister?"

      In the bathroom, Vijay said. He stuck the Lego man onto a Lego truck and sent it rolling toward Antim.

      Faith marched down the hall. The bathroom door was closed. She knocked. Hamsa?

      No answer.

      Are you trying on Mom’s makeup again?

      Faith turned the knob. Locked. You will never look like Taylor Swift, so stop trying. Wash your face.

      Whatever, came a muffled reply.

      Faith shook her head and trudged back to her room. She wanted to send everyone to bed, but she knew it was best to let them wind down on their own.

      Five minutes later, Hamsa plopped onto her bed on the other side of their room. Her cheeks were freshly scrubbed, but Faith could still see traces of eyeliner. She smiled to herself, remembering her own fifth-grade makeup phase. She’d hardly worn more than lip gloss since.

      Hamsa grabbed her cell phone and started texting.

      Don’t you have homework? Faith asked.

      Finished it.

      Faith took a deep breath, ready to lecture her sister on the costs of sending so many text messages. But she returned to her computer. She wasn’t Mom. She shouldn’t have to do absolutely everything.

       . . .

      Faith gave herself two minutes to stretch around in bed and to wish she were still asleep. Then she threw off her covers and locked herself in the bathroom. Having these moments to herself was worth the five-thirty wake-up time. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it.

      After dressing in her usual school outfit—soccer sweats—she walked into the kitchen. Late-March sunshine just peeked through the curtains. Her mom sat at the table, reading the paper and sipping a cup of coffee. She was still wearing her hospital scrubs.

      Hi, Mom. Faith opened the cupboard and grabbed a box of cereal.

      Good morning, Astha.

      Faith cringed at the sound of her Hindu name. In third grade, Jessie Nichols started calling her Asthma. It stuck. So in fourth grade, she began using the English translation of Astha—faith. Now she preferred it. Her mom preferred tradition.

      Without looking up from the paper, her mom said, Get your health report done?

      The boys were fighting until quarter after ten. At ten thirty, Hamsa admitted she had a math test today. I was up until midnight helping her study.

      Did you get your report done? her mom repeated.

      Didn’t you hear me? Faith grabbed milk from the fridge and slammed the door. When would I have had the chance?

      Her mom looked Faith in the eyes. Hamsa can do her own work. How will you get into college without good grades?

      Faith shook her head. She refused to have the college argument again. They didn’t have the money. She didn’t have the grades. She wasn’t even one of the Copperheads’ starting defenders—her soccer skills were only good enough to keep her on the bench. No scholarship. No college. End of story.

      After a few bites of cereal, Faith’s stomach clenched and she pushed the bowl away. She really

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