The Champions by Kara Thomas

Author:Kara Thomas [Thomas, Kara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2024-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

I wake with a start. It’s a little after eight. The pulsing behind my eyes confirms I’ll be paying for the shitty night’s sleep today.

When I remember today is the Newton East game, the fundraiser, I’m hit with a blast of dread so powerful I think about texting Alix that I’m sick and I can’t make it. But there are four dozen cookies in my kitchen, and I don’t want her to think I’m backing out because of that awkward conversation yesterday.

The game begins at one, but last night, Alix texted me that everyone helping with the bake sale is getting to the school around eleven-thirty to set up. Mom is already downstairs when I get there, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through Outlook on her phone.

“Work emails on a Saturday?” I ask, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

She ignores the comment and, without looking up from her phone, says, “What time do you have to be at school?”

“Eleven-thirty.”

“I’ll drive you.” Mom stands, carries her coffee mug to the sink. “The parking lot is going to be a nightmare.”

Neither of us acknowledges the unfinished conversation from last night about Dad. I avoid her until it’s time to leave, and she seems happy to aid me, disappearing into the upstairs bathroom. I bring the dessert caddies of cookies to the car, and she meets me outside, wearing a Sunnybrook Football sweatshirt, her hair freshly blown out.

I scroll idly on my phone and Mom pretends to be invested in an NPR segment on the drive to school. She doesn’t speak until we approach the side entrance. “I’ll drop you off here. I’m going to have to drive around and find a spot.”

The game doesn’t start for over an hour, but the parking lot is already almost at capacity. I climb out of the car and grab the dessert caddies from the back seat before following a group of people wearing Sunnybrook blue and yellow to the entrance of the football field. Below the bleachers, the pep band is warming up, a cacophony of clarinet shrieks and drumrolls.

#Philbrick Strong signs made on Day-Glo poster board direct me to a folding table about a dozen feet from the ticket booth. Erica, Madison, and a few other seniors are milling around the table, unpacking Costco-sized boxes of snacks, cans of soda. There is a coffee carafe and a stack of Styrofoam cups, and the table is covered in trays of baked goods wrapped professionally in cellophane.

Alix is nowhere in sight, nor are any of the other dance team girls. A lump of unease works its way up my throat as Erica takes me in. She glances at the cookies I made, her face driving home how lumpy and sad they look in comparison to what the local bakery donated.

“You can leave those on the table.” Erica’s blond hair is in a high ponytail, a blue ribbon tied around it. She—and all the other girls, I realize—are in navy T-shirts stamped with the Tigers mascot, #PhilBrickStrong below it.

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