Playing With the Boys Read Online Free PDF Page A

asked wistfully.
     
     
    “Because we play soccer, not football,” Jamie reminded her. “Football players and cheerleaders only .”
     
     
    Charlie rolled her eyes.“I’m glad they’re willingly containing themselves. Then we don’t have to worry about running into them on Friday nights.” It was no secret that Charlie wasn’t a huge fan of that crowd.
     
     
    “Still . . .” Pickle sighed. “It’d be nice to see what the big deal is.”
     
     
    “Casey Peterson’s D-cups,” a cute brunette, Erica, piped in. “That’s always the biggest deal at those parties. The guys throw quarters in her cleavage and she keeps the change.”
     
     
    “No way!” Max, a freshman spitfire, exclaimed. Max had short, choppy, bleached blond hair and just looked tough. Lucy had figured out that Max was short for Maxine, when she saw the tryout roster.
     
     
    “Not that I don’t want to talk about Casey’s D-cups the whole drive,” a pretty Hispanic junior named Carla said. “But did anyone see Real World last night?” Her deep brown eyes sparkled as if she’d just received good news.
     
     
    On the front bench of the van, Lucy spun around. She loved that show!
     
     
    Forgetting her shyness, she rattled off a list of highlights that had the entire van of girls enraptured.
     
     
    “And then Tucker said Marlo should just go back where she came from. The gutter!” Lucy quoted.
     
     
    “He did not say that!” Heather gasped. “He’s so homophobic, anyway.”
     
     
    “And obviously closeted,” Jamie pointed out. “No one protests that much.”
     
     
    “I know.” Lucy laughed. “It’s like the same thing every season.”
     
     
    Carla giggled. “I know. I love it.”
     
     
    Pickle leaned over the seat, adding her two cents. “By the end, Tyler and Jason’ll be making out.”
     
     
    “I’m so sick of that show,” Erica complained.“I’m seriously not watching anymore.”
     
     
    “You say that every season,” Heather pointed out.
     
     
    “At least you’re allowed to watch it,” a sophomore redhead, Ruthie, chirped from the front seat. “My mom won’t let me. Can you believe that? No MTV?”
     
     
    Max recoiled. “No MTV? That’s, like, globally unfair.” Lucy giggled and Max looked at her for confirmation. “I mean, it is, right? Does she even let you google?”
     
     
    As Ruthie explained, Lucy listened and relaxed a little, genuinely enjoying herself for the first time in a long time. It was fun to be around these girls. Lucy hoped she’d be around them for a long time to come.
     
     
    That all changed once they arrived at the beach. While the girls were still fun, practice was not. Martie announced they were going for a short three-mile run.
     
     
    “Is that an oxymoron?” Erica asked. “Short? Three miles?”
     
     
    “ You’re an oxymoron,” Heather countered playfully, as Erica fake-punched her in the arm.
     
     
    Karen, a pretty blond senior, scoffed. “Heather, that didn’t even make any sense!”
     
     
    As the girls took off running, Lucy took her place securely at the back of the pack, where she struggled to keep up. Her lungs felt as though they were going to explode; running on sand was about a million times more difficult than running on cement. Somehow Lucy made it through, coming in third to last, which was a small victory. At least she wasn’t the very slowest.
     
     
    After the run, Martie prepared to take them through various drills.
     
     
    “Can someone grab the bag of balls?” she asked purposefully.
     
     
    “I will,” Karen offered. “Or maybe Heather should. She loves to grab the balls.”
     
     
    A bunch of the girls snickered. Clearly, they enjoyed ribbing each other and giving each other a hard time. Charlie and Carla exchanged amused looks, trying not to laugh . . . but it was hard not to.
     
     
    Karen’s comment elicited a very real punch from Heather.
     
     
    “Ow!” Karen yelped. “That seriously hurt!”