Stealing for Keeps (Frost Lake High Book 1)
Stealing for Keeps: Chapter 9

As I walk into my English literature class, Vaughn, Eddie, and Doyle go quiet. It’s been the same since the start of the school year. I considered switching my schedule around, but I know the only thing that could make the situation worse would be letting them run me off.

I take my seat next to Jenn. She’s a junior too. Her family moved to Frost Lake last year when her mom took a new job in the area. Her friendly smile is a nice contrast to the icy welcome from my teammates, and she knows what it’s like to move in the middle of high school.

“Hey,” she says, glancing over her shoulder quickly, then back at me. “Still on Collins’s shit list, huh?”

One side of my mouth quirks up.

“I’m at the top of the list though, so that should count for something,” I joke.

She shoots me an apologetic smile.

Our lit teacher, Mr. Kepfler, takes attendance and then instructs us to break into groups and discuss the first six chapters of Pride and Prejudice. He is big on having open discussion and talking among ourselves to further our own understanding of the material we read. Mostly that ends up with people talking about anything but the book.

While Jenn and I move our desks closer, I can hear Vaughn and the rest of the guys talking about tonight’s scrimmage game.

Meet the Knights, from what I’ve been told, is a celebration of the upcoming season. We’re broken into two teams, blue and white, and we’ll play a full eighty minutes.

Rowan says it’s a big, showy night with carnival games and food trucks. The student council group and the parent booster club put it together every year. People come, watch the game, see the new team in action, and then eat burnt hot dogs and cotton candy, all for donations to the athletics department at Frost Lake.

I’m just happy the season is almost here.

“Has your dad said how he’s breaking us up into teams?” Eddie asks loudly behind me.

“No.” Vaughn’s voice is quieter. “He decides right before the game so we can’t strategize.”

Adrenaline starts to pump through me. Practices have been intense, and I’ve never had to work harder, but I’m earning my spot, whether they like it or not.

“Hey, do you know Claire?” I ask Jenn when the guys turn their conversation away from soccer and the team.

“You mean Collins’s ex?” she asks, looking up from the book. Soft laughter escapes from her lips. “Yes, everyone knows Claire. They were the couple.”

I really hate the visual of them together.

“Why? Considering doing something dumb like kissing her again?”

A sheepish grin pulls at the corners of my mouth. “You heard about that, huh?”

“Everyone did. I imagine that’s why you’re sitting here with me and not back there with them.”

“Partly,” I admit, then point toward her backpack. She has a figure skating patch stitched onto the side. “Did you skate with her?”

“No. I don’t skate competitively, just for fun. I’m on the hockey cheer squad. I don’t really know her that well, just things I’ve heard. Are you two together?”

“Hockey cheer squad?” My brows rise as I try to imagine that.

“Yeah.” She smiles. “We cheer at the hockey games.”

“I had no idea that was a thing.” I shake my head. Only in Michigan.

“So are you?” she asks.

“Am I what?”

“Are you and Claire together?”

“No. We aren’t together.” Though she has been occupying a lot of my thoughts.

“You might want to let Collins know that, because rumors around school are saying differently.”

Fucking rumors.

* * *

By the time I make it to art class, I’m so keyed up for tonight, that it’s all I can focus on.

Well, almost.

Claire smiles at me as I take my seat. Something has shifted between us over the past week. She talks a little more freely. I haven’t asked about skating again, sensing that’s a tough spot for her, but otherwise, I think I’m finally starting to win her over. I’m not sure exactly what my plan is. Asking her out would likely make things worse with Vaughn, but I’m starting to wonder if it matters. And if it doesn’t, I might as well get the girl.

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” I ask, thoughts still on soccer but also her.

Nodding without looking at me, she says, “Pretty much the whole school shows up for Meet the Knights.”

“Including you?”

She meets my gaze. Her multicolored eyes really get me. Unique. Like her.

“Yes,” she says finally. “Including me.”

* * *

When I get to the locker room before the game, the entire team is already there and dressed. Coach Collins eyes me, one brow cocked. “Good you could join us, Keller.” Lazily, he rotates his wrist to check the time on his watch. “Did I not say to be here tonight at five o’clock on the dot?”

“I thought it was changed to five thirty…” I trail off when I notice several of the guys fighting off laughter.

Fuck me. I did think it was odd Coach—who has never sent an email out before—sent out a last-minute time change an hour before we were supposed to arrive at the field for Meet the Knights. But clearly not odd enough to question it like I should have.

His stare moves around the locker room, and everyone’s faces go to stone. A few guys look down, so he can’t read their expressions.

“My mistake. Sorry, Coach.” I move past him and take a seat on the bench between Rowan and Blake.

“Starters on the board,” he says. “I want to see everything you have out there. You know your opponent tonight better than you will all season. I’ll be making a lot of switches and moving you around. Work together, and take your time.”

With a nod and a small upturn to the corners of his mouth, he gives us a smile and turns on his heel to leave.

When I glance at the board, my name has been crossed out and Eddie’s added next to it. I don’t have to guess why I’m not starting.

“Did somebody tell you the wrong time?” Rowan asks, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah.” I tamp back my irritation. That’s what they want, and I refuse to let them see it.

“I should have warned you they might try something tonight.”

“Not on you,” I say, meaning it. He’s the only guy in this room that I know for sure didn’t send it.

“Don’t let them get to you. They’ll get bored of it and move on.” He tosses me a blue jersey. “Welcome to the blue team.”

“Thanks.” I pull it on over my head.

The guys are lining up to go out. Vaughn is wearing a white jersey. I can’t decide if that’s good or bad news for me.

“Use all that frustration you’re feeling right now on beating the white team. I have never been on the winning side for Meet the Knights, but this feels like the year.”

I nod and think about doing just that. I sit on the bench in front of the locker and pull on my socks and shin guards. “Is your family here?”

He pauses, then shakes his head and smiles. “Nah. They’re busy, and it’s just a scrimmage. Yours?”

“Everyone but my dad. His flight was delayed.”

“Bummer,” Rowan says.

It’s the first time he won’t be at one of my games. Sure, it’s just a scrimmage, but it still feels wrong.

By the time I’m finished getting dressed, I can hear the music and noise on the field. Adrenaline starts to pump inside me. I shift from foot to foot, eager to get out there.

When we walk out, all the guys in front of me hit the top of the doorframe. Rowan says from behind me, “It’s tradition.”

I lift up on my toes and hit the worn spot. At my old school, we had something similar. Every team I’ve been a part of has had their own superstitions and traditions. I’ve always enjoyed the group aspect of soccer. The friendships, the sense of community, and working toward a common goal. I hope eventually this team will feel that way for me. I can’t help but think if I can show them how much I can contribute, that’ll happen sooner rather than later.

I can just make out one side of the field as we walk up toward it. There are bleachers on the near side, but on the far side, people have set up lawn chairs and blankets.

A group of cheerleaders waits for us at the edge of the field. They unroll a large white banner, and over the sound system, I hear a man with a deep, heavily upper Michigan accent say, “And now, let’s meet your Frost Lake High Knights!”

The music changes to something with a heavier beat, and I can’t help but laugh. All this for a scrimmage? At my old school, football was king. People came out for soccer games if there wasn’t anything else going on that night or when we had a big game, but this? This is like nothing I’ve seen.

I glance back at Rowan to replace him grinning at me like he can read my thoughts, and then the line starts to move, and the first guy runs through the paper. As I step out onto the field, a wave of excitement rushes through me. This is what I’ve been working for. Playing in front of a big crowd with a team that is better than any other I’ve been a part of.

We make a lap around the entire field and then split into our teams, each taking one side.

The music continues as we warm up. I scan the bleachers until I replace my family. Mom waves, as does Wyatt. Torrance looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. My chest squeezes at the empty spot next to them. Dad should be here.

One of my favorite parts of playing soccer is after the games, talking about it with him. I guess in a way, that’s the only real tradition I’ve had for myself.

I force a grin at Wyatt. He’s bouncing in his seat and pointing, like Mom and Torrance can’t see me for themselves. His excitement is a nice contrast to Torrance. I thought we’d come to some sort of nonverbal peace treaty last week when she snuck in past curfew, but since then, she’s been as cold to me as before.

I scan the bleachers between taking practice shots. There are still a lot of people I don’t know at Frost Lake, but I’m starting to recognize faces. One in particular stands out.

Claire is sitting a few rows up on the bleachers with Brandon and some other guys I recognize as hockey players. A bunch of them are in my world history class.

Several of the girls from the soccer team are sitting in the row directly in front of Claire and her friends. When I lift my hand to wave at her, she looks away. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but I think she might enjoy giving me the cold shoulder. Sophie waves back instead. She, on the other hand, is giving me two very warm shoulders. She’s asked me out almost every day this week. She’s nice and cute. I’m not feeling it with her, but maybe I’ve just been too preoccupied.

I’ve got a fascination with the sassy blond playing hard to get that’s making it difficult to notice anyone else.

Before the game starts, the announcer calls out the coaches and then the players. I spot Lacey and Andie with the other cheerleaders, standing on the field and yelling as each of us runs out to applause from the crowd.

Lacey does some sort of backflip combo as they call my name. She ends with a grin, raising her hands over her head.

I tip my head to her and make a face that I hope shows how impressed I am.

She grins back as she brings her hands to her hips. “Go get ’em, New Guy.”

The game starts out friendly. We’ve been going up against one another every day in practice, so this feels like that with a few more people watching. But when the white team scores the first goal and the scoreboard lights up with it, things get more competitive.

Coach rotates everyone at regular intervals so that we all get the same amount of time on the field. It’s fair and keeps us from getting tired, but I don’t want breaks. I want to be out there.

Rowan and I are rarely on the field at the same time, and the rest of the team is still unsure what to make of me. More than once, I’m wide open, and someone hesitates before passing it to another teammate.

I’m frustrated when Coach subs me out for another breather. The first half is winding down, and I’ve barely touched the ball.

Even with the light atmosphere, I can tell he’s making notes on who will earn starting spots for our first real game next week. I want one of those spots, and I know I deserve it. Now I just have to show him.