9781250209153

sprinting down the field, their lungs surely burning in the cold. The start of
their season signals the closing of mine, which is hard to believe. It means
we’re nearing the end of my high school sports career. It also means we’re
only weeks away from the district championship, and based on Grandma
Earl’s winning record, it looks like we’ll definitely be playing in it—and
that Candlehawk, who remain undefeated except for their loss to us in the
Christmas Classic, will be our opponent.
Danielle and I stay late after practice one night, passing the ball around
while she works through a new play she wants to try with our team. We
haven’t seen Coach Fernandez in two weeks; Danielle has been leading the
charge entirely on her own. Tonight she alternates between consulting the
play on her phone, directing me through the steps, and disappearing behind
Danielle Vision. I watch her with new eyes, in awe of the way her brain
works.
“Did you ever finish your Common App essay?” I ask when we’re
walking to the parking lot. It’s freezing cold outside; my breath clouds the
air when I speak.
“Yeah, it’s finished, but I haven’t submitted it yet. Why?”
“What did you end up writing about?”
“This anecdote about my family visiting the Museum of Bad Art and
how Teddy went off on the tour guide about this octopus painting—what?
What’s that look?”
“Danielle, you have to write about coaching our team.”
“I told you, I don’t wanna brag. I don’t wanna be all me-me-me.”
I stop walking. So does she. We face off near our cars.
“What?” Danielle prompts, teeth chattering.
“I love you,” I tell her firmly. “You’re a force to be reckoned with. I
think you should stop hiding from people.”
She blinks. She looks completely dazed. “What?”
“You do realize that stepping up to coach your peers through a winning
season is pretty extraordinary, right? Especially when you’re still
maintaining straight As? You should tell the college admissions people that.
You should let them see you. The real, genuine you. Authenticity,
remember?”