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Informationen zum Autor Christie Matheson Klappentext "Twelve-year-old Alex loves playing soccer, and she's good at it, too. Very good. When her skills land her a free ride to play for Select, an elite soccer club, it feels like a huge opportunity. Joining Select could be the key to a college scholarship and a bright future--one that Alex's family can't promise her. But as the team gets better and better, her new coach pushes the players harder and harder, until soccer starts to feel more like punishment than fun. And then there comes a point where enough is enough, and Alex and her teammates must take a stand to find a better way to make their soccer dreams come true."--Provided by publisher. Leseprobe 1 Let’s Go I’m sitting next to my little sister on the city bus, holding her hand in my right hand and tapping my left hand on the back of the seat in front of us, as if that will help the bus go faster. I lean into the aisle for the millionth time, trying to see if the light ahead of us has changed from red to green yet. We’re getting close to our stop, but we’ve been sitting in traffic that’s been painfully, painfully slow because of an event happening in Civic Center Plaza, and another one in Golden Gate Park. When traffic is bad, going from one side of San Francisco to the other can feel like it takes forever. Especially when you don’t want to be late. Belle, my seven-year-old sister, whispers, “Are we almost there?” and looks up at me with anxious brown eyes. She’s swinging her feet impatiently; they don’t even come close to reaching the floor of the bus. I squeeze her hand. She wants to get to the soccer field almost as badly as I do, even though I’m the one playing in a game. I’ve told her we’re playing against the other first-place team in our league, a team from Earthquake F.C. Earthquake is one of the biggest soccer clubs in San Francisco. And this team is better than any team we’ve played yet this season. Whoever wins today ends the season in first place. Our mom is in the seat behind us, looking at her phone. She’s oblivious to how long this bus ride is taking, and the magnitude of the game. Finally, the light changes. The bus goes another block, then eases to a stop. Our stop. Belle and I jump right up, ready to scramble off the bus as soon as the doors open. My mom is still transfixed by her phone. “Mom,” I say. “It’s time.” The last thing I need is for her to miss our stop. “Oh!” she says, startled. “Already?” She slides her phone into her bag and stands up. She’s wearing her version of a “sporty” outfit today, which means jeans and a sleeveless top, and platform sandals instead of high heels. We have pretty different taste in clothes. And footwear. “Great! That was fast.” My mom doesn’t move quickly. Still, we all get off the bus before the doors close. Now we need to hurry to make it to my soccer field in time for me to have a full warm-up with my team. But my mom isn’t hurrying. She’s not even moving. She’s reaching into her bag, trying to find something. “Let’s go!” I say, ready to get to my field, and hoping my mom will pick up the pace. She doesn’t. “Let’s go!” I plead again. My mom pulls out a little mirror and a lipstick. “Hold on, Alexa,” she says. She’s the only one who calls me Alexa. To everyone else, I’m Alex. “Mom,” I say. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” My mom almost never comes to my soccer games. She usually has to work on Saturdays, and when she doesn’t have to work, she wants to sleep. I get it. She works two different jobs and is a single mom of two kids. She’s tired. But she has the day off today, and she wants to come to the last game of my spring season. I think it’s because her horoscope told her it was a good day to watch sports. Really. My mom is into horoscopes. She isn’t into soccer. I guess it’s nice of her to come, but this is ridiculous. It took ...
