“You’re almost as persistent as Kevin. Yes, talk to your parents and the adoption agency. And if the facts check out, I’ll call Aunt Hea.”
I was the only one in my family available to play cheerleader at Sophie’s soccer game Saturday morning. Mom was working, Gina had started her singing class at the Y, and Dad had another appointment at the college.
This was Sophie’s last game before the playoffs, and her team was undefeated. You’d think eight-year-olds would be only moderately intense about a sport, right? It’s not like they’re squaring off for the World Cup or anything. Well, think again, because Sophie was on the elite travel team. These girls meant kick-butt business, with scabs on their elbows and bruises on their knees to prove it. But tough as she is, Sophie gets upset if we’re not there to cheer her on. So, marshmallow-hearted brother that I am, I rode my bike three miles to the soccer fields, along with Nash. I’d invited Yongsu, too, but he had to go to Korean school. Yongsu frowned when he told me that, but I said Korean school sounded awesome.
Of course, Mom had bribed me with some moolah if I watched the game, but that was beside the point.
The wind blasted more like March than June, and the bike ride was all uphill. Sophie’s team had already scored the first goal by the time we got there. She was playing midfield, one on one against a girl built like a mobile home. But Sophie didn’t seem fazed. With gritted teeth and a messy ponytail, she kicked the ball right around the girl like she was running to save civilization.
Nash and I stood by the sideline. Sophie’s friend Kaylie was alone guarding the goal. She waved to me.
“Coach finally put me in for goalie, Joseph. My first time!” she shouted.
I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Don’t let the other team hear that!”
After we sat on the bleachers, Nash asked me about Jae.
“The whole search is stuck in the mud. Jae won’t tell her aunt about me until I talk to my parents, and that’s a waste of time.”
“Maybe they’ll surprise you once they see how strong you feel about this.”
“I’ve had enough surprises lately,” I said.
A curly-haired kid from the other team broke away with the ball. In a desperate ditch effort, Sophie slide tackled her.
Toot. The referee’s whistle. “Yellow card on Ten.”
“Out, Sophie!” her coach shouted, and she stomped off the field.
After Sophie returned to the game, a tall girl stole the ball from her and made a breakaway downfield. Kaylie leaped for the ball, jumping-jack style, but it swerved past her shoulder into the goal.
The crowd cheered. Sophie pounded her leg with her fist.
I thought about what Nash had said. Maybe Mom and Dad would be more open to helping me search. After all, Dad seemed to be on a high since the accident, as weird as that sounded. And I remembered what Mom told me when she found out about my fake essay. She said she wished I’d talked to her first; she would’ve wanted to help.
At the very least they might speak to the adoption agency for me. Privacy laws probably wouldn’t allow me to find out anything more about how I was found without Mom and Dad being involved anyway.
The wind picked up again during the second half. Nash and I moved to the far end of the bleachers, where the breeze was at our back. We had parked ourselves on the bottom row when a bunch of girls from school arrived. I recognized a few of them from Kelly’s crowd.
They glanced at us with less-than-enthused expressions.
“No wonder none of them won Most Friendly for the yearbook,” I told Nash.
“So who are you asking to the Farewell Formal?” Nash asked.
“You tell first.”
“I want to ask Ok-hee, but I doubt she’d go with me.”
“Why not? Besides being obsessed with Wolverine, you’re practically normal.”
“Ha-ha. Spoken by a guy who looks up to a web spinner. But seriously, Ok-hee acts mature, like a high schooler. And she’s really smart. She composes music and reads the same books as your dad.”
“Ever heard of multiple intelligence? You’re smart too, in different ways. You work that computer almost as well as you play trumpet. Ok-hee might seem sophisticated, but trust me. Her world is full of lip gloss and mall madness. I even saw her reading Teen People once.”
Nash laughed. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It means she’s reachable. All you’ve got to do is come up with a catchy way to grab her attention.”
“Like what, interrupting morning announcements and asking her out over the PA system?”
I shook my head. “She’d never speak to you again if you pulled that one.”