Switching Goals Page 3

  We all cheered again.

  “I’ve got one more thing to share. To make us stronger as a team, and to make sure we are following the highest principles of student athletes, I want to talk about doing community service together,” Coach said. “I want the Kicks to be known not only for their skills on the field, but also their integrity off the field.”

  I saw the eighth graders who had been involved in the almost-spray-painting of the Roses’ field shuffle uncomfortably and look at the ground. Coach Flores didn’t have to spell it out. We all knew what she meant.

  Coach continued, “I know in the winter league, Coach Darby had some of you visit a nursing home, and that was really successful. I’ve organized a time for us to walk dogs and clean cages at a local animal shelter. I’ve sent out an email to all your parents with the details. In the future, I’d love to hear any ideas you have about how we can help the community.”

  “I love helping animals!” Emma said.

  Everybody began to talk about Coach’s idea at once.

  “I love dogs! They are soooo cute!”

  “Sorry, I’m a cat person. I’ll be with them.”

  “I’m not cleaning cages, but I will walk a dog.”

  “Great! I’ll see everyone at Friday’s practice!” Coach Flores called out over our voices, dismissing us.

  • • •

  Jessi’s mom gave me a ride home from practice, and when I got there, I found Mom talking on her phone while Maisie did her homework.

  “Thank you,” Mom was saying. “I’ll talk to Devin and then get back to you.”

  “Who was that?” I asked when she hung up.

  “After talking to Frida’s mom, I gave that agent a call,” Mom said. Last night, I had spoken to her about Ashanta’s offer and given her the card. Then, to be honest, I’d forgotten about it. The idea of me modeling seemed pretty out there.

  “I should have mentioned when I gave you the card, I don’t think that I’m interested,” I told Mom. “But thanks for calling her.”

  “It’s your decision,” Mom said. “I’m not sure how I feel about you modeling, to be honest. It can be pretty stressful and competitive. But Ashanta’s agency seems to be legitimate. And they certainly pay well.”

  That interested me. I hadn’t really thought about getting paid.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “She said this job pays a hundred dollars an hour, and other jobs might pay more once you have some experience,” Mom answered.

  My jaw dropped.

  Maisie looked up from her homework. “One hundred dollars! You’ll be rich, Devin!”

  “How many hours would I be working?” I asked.

  “Four hours, minimum,” Mom answered.

  I started doing the math in my head. I could buy new soccer cleats with that money! Or . . .

  “How much does a plane ticket cost to go to Connecticut?” I asked as Dad walked into the house.

  “Who’s going to Connecticut?” he asked.

  “Nobody,” I said. “I mean, if I take that modeling job, I could maybe make four hundred dollars, and I’m wondering if I could use that for a plane ticket to go to Charlotte’s party.”

  “Or you could save it for something important, like college,” Mom chimed in.

  “Well Devin doesn’t need to worry,” Dad said. “She can get a soccer scholarship to college.”

  College? That’s, like, five years away! I thought. Should I be worrying about college already?

  I knew I had to play in college if I wanted to go pro. And I was pretty sure I wanted to go pro. Or play in the Olympics. But both of those goals felt like they were way in the future. I hadn’t even been thinking about that.

  “Devin, you could give some of that money to me, if you can’t decide what to do with it,” Maisie added. “Wait! I have a better idea! Why don’t we ask the agent if they need a little sister for the modeling shoot?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not even sure if I’m going to do it, Maisie.” I turned to Mom. “When’s dinner?” I asked. I had to go think about all of this.

  “In about a half hour,” she replied. “We can talk more about Connecticut and what you want to do about this job opportunity later. Let’s all get a chance to think it over.”

  I nodded and jogged upstairs. I took a quick shower and then called Kara on video chat.

  “Hey, you’re early,” Kara said. “I just got home.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to ask you something,” I asked. “Do you ever think about going pro?”

  “Sometimes,” Kara replied. “But mostly, I think I want to go to vet school. So maybe I’ll play in college, but that’s probably it.”

  I nodded. “You’d be a great vet,” I said. “I don’t have anything else that I care about as much as soccer. And it’s always been my dream to go to the Olympics. So I might try to go pro. Is that crazy?”

  Kara shook her head. “No, I totally think you could!” she answered. “You’re an awesome soccer player. You sleep, eat, and breathe soccer. You should go for it.”

  “It seems like I have all the time in the world to figure it out, but I don’t really,” I said. Then I laughed. “Especially now that I could have a modeling career.”

  Kara’s eyes got wide. “What?”

  I explained to Kara about the modeling job. “It’s ridiculous, right? I have no idea how to be a model. Just standing there and having someone pay you to take your picture? It sounds easy, but I don’t know. . . .”

  “Do it!” Kara urged. “Do it once, at least, and see if you like it. Why not?”

  “What if I make a fool of myself? What if every picture is like this?” I pulled a silly face, with my eyes half closed and my mouth hanging open.

  Kara laughed. “I doubt that will happen. Seriously, give it a try. If you hate it, you never have to do it again. But the Devin I know isn’t scared of anything. You can try this!”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ve got to go eat dinner now.”

  Kara waved. “Bye-eeee!”

  I closed my laptop and headed downstairs. Then I grabbed some plates from the closet and started setting the table.

  “Mom, I think you should call that agent,” I said. “I want to do the modeling job.”

  “Don’t forget to ask about me!” Maisie said.

  “Sorry, Maisie, but this is Devin’s thing,” Mom said. She looked at me. “I’ll call her after dinner.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  A little voice in my head began to scold me. What are you doing? Do you really think you can model?

  Then another voice chimed in. Do the job. Take the money. What can it hurt?

  Maybe I would hate it. Maybe I would love it. And maybe, just maybe, I’d make enough money for a trip to Connecticut, and my parents would let me go.

  Chapter Six

  “Devin, hold still, please!” Mom said.

  We were in my bedroom, and I was squirming as she tried to take my measurements with a long measuring tape. Everything had happened so fast. I had only decided yesterday to do this, and now I was having my measurements taken for a photo shoot that was happening tomorrow!

  “I can’t help it!” I said. “It tickles!”

  “Well, we’ve got to get your numbers to the agency tonight so they have the right clothes for you tomorrow,” Mom said. She sat down on my bed with a sigh. “Honestly, I didn’t think this through when I said it would be okay for you to model. You’re too young to be in an industry that puts so much emphasis on size and beauty.”

  “But this shoot is about sportswear, right?” I asked. “Isn’t that a positive thing? I’m helping to promote physical activity.”

  “I guess,” Mom said. “But I’m also not crazy about you missing school. And practice.”

  “I know,” I said. “I really don’t like missing practice. But I never do. And this is, like, a once-in-a-lifetime thing, right? I’ll try something new, I’ll make some money, and that’s it.”

  I had some pr
etty good arguments for Mom because at lunch that day, I’d started to feel nervous about the shoot and missing practice, and Frida and Jessi had convinced me to do it. But that was before I’d known that my body would have to be measured. What if they didn’t have anything that fit me?

  “Well, we’ve already made a commitment,” Mom said. “So we’ll see it through. Now please just let me get your waist, and we’re done.”

  As Mom wrapped the measuring tape around my middle, I had a thought.

  “Nobody at the shoot is going to try to measure me, are they?” I asked, thinking it would be really uncomfortable to have a stranger doing this. “That would be weird. And what if my measurements aren’t right? Will they send me home?”

  “That’s why we’re doing this now,” Mom said. “Besides, I’ll be there the whole time if anything comes up. Maisie is going to go to Mindy’s house after school. Dad will pick up takeout, and we can eat when we get home.”

  “Wow, thanks,” I said.

  “I’ll pick you up at school at one o’clock,” Mom said. “And please, remember to wear a bra tomorrow. You’ll need it for the shoot.”

  I felt my face flush. I’d just started wearing one last summer, and I hated it. Sometimes I avoided it if I could, except I always wore a sports bra for practices and games. But I suddenly realized that wearing one to the modeling shoot was probably a good idea.

  “I won’t forget,” I promised.

  Between the measuring and the bra, I was more than a little nervous when we pulled up to the photography studio the next afternoon. The large, high-ceilinged room had a big green wall right in the middle, and a guy was setting up props and stuff in front of it. Another woman was adjusting one of the tall, bright lights aimed at the wall.

  Ashanta walked up to me and my mom.

  “Devin, Jennifer, good to see you!” she said. “Jennifer, you can hang out over there.” She pointed to some chairs facing the whole setup. “I’m going to get Devin into wardrobe and makeup.”

  Mom looked at me. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  I kind of did, but I didn’t want to admit it. “No, I’m okay,” I said.

  Ashanta led me to a room behind the green screen. On the way, a girl about my age, a little bit taller than me, walked past, and Ashanta stopped.

  “Devin, meet Sabine. You two will be working together today,” Ashanta said.

  “Hey, Devin,” Sabine said with a smile. She was dressed in a pair of pink shorts and a white tank top with a matching pink stripe across the shoulders. She wore her curly black hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail, and her face looked like she was born for modeling, with smooth brown skin without a pimple in sight and long eyelashes.

  I suddenly felt self-conscious. I’d never given much thought about how I looked. I liked the way the sun streaked my brown hair with gold. But of course there were things I didn’t love. I always wore sunscreen, so my skin stayed pretty pale and never got tan, like some people’s did. And I didn’t have acne, but my cheeks sometimes got blotchy. I knew my friends wouldn’t judge me, so I never worried before, but these photos would be seen by tons of people. Now all that stuff felt like it mattered.

  Why did they ask me to model? Are they crazy? I thought. Next to Sabine, I look like a modeling school dropout or something. My palms started to sweat.

  “See you out there,” Sabine said, and I nodded silently and followed Ashanta, wiping my hands on my jeans.

  We entered a room filled with racks of clothes and a table with a makeup mirror, a bunch of hairstyling stuff, and a makeup case that looked like the tackle box my dad uses when he goes fishing. But instead of fake worms, hooks, and lures, it was filled with makeup brushes, eyeshadow, and lipstick. A purple-haired young woman in cutoff jean shorts, vintage basketball sneakers, and a T-shirt with a rock band logo on it was looking through the clothes on the rack.

  “Devin, this is Tenshi,” Ashanta said. “She’s going to get you ready for the shoot. I’m going to leave you to it.”

  “Hi,” I said shyly as Ashanta hurried off.

  Tenshi nodded to me. “Sabine’s in green, so I’m thinking blue for you,” she said. Then she laughed. “Hey, I rhymed!”

  “Yeah, you did,” I said, but I let out a nervous breath instead of a laugh.

  “I heard it’s your first shoot,” Tenshi said, and I nodded. “Don’t worry. Zane, the photographer, is really chill. And Sabine’s a pro. Just follow her lead.”

  I nodded silently again. Things were starting to feel overwhelming. I thought about bolting into the parking lot—I knew that Mom would follow me—but then Tenshi pulled out shorts and a cute shirt for me that were the exact shade of Kicks blue.

  Frida would say this was a sign, I thought. So I didn’t bolt. In fact, I thought of Frida and how she would act if she were here. She’d be totally confident. If Frida could channel Amazon warriors and fairy princesses on the soccer field, maybe I could channel Frida on the set today! I took a deep breath. I’d give it a try.

  “Sit,”  Tenshi instructed, and I sat in a chair at the makeup table, trying to tap into Frida’s self-assured energy. I had worn my lucky pink headband that I wore to all my soccer games to the shoot to give me an extra boost of security. Tenshi pulled it out before she sprayed some stuff into my hair then brushed it.

  “Gotta tame those fly-aways,” Tenshi said. “You should really use conditioner.”

  “I do,” I said. “I use that two-in-one stuff.”

  Tenshi rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count!”

  It didn’t feel like we were off to a great start, and any trace of Frida slid right out of me, along with my lucky pink headband. Tenshi pulled my hair into a long ponytail that wasn’t much different than my usual look, just less messy, and then she put some makeup on me. It felt like she was putting on a ton of stuff, but when I looked in the mirror after, it didn’t seem like I had a bunch of makeup on at all.

  “Awesome, right?” Tenshi said.

  I stared at myself. I wasn’t sure what she did, exactly. But my lips looked smooth and shiny. My eyes looked brighter. And my skin looked absolutely perfect. Not blotchy at all. But I still looked like me.

  “Wow,” I said.

  Tenshi grinned. “You look great, Devin. Now get changed. There are some sneakers in there for you too.”

  I quickly got changed behind the privacy screen. The sneakers were Nikes, white with a blue swoosh. I slipped them on and looked in the mirror. I had to admit that it was a pretty cute workout outfit, something I’d actually wear, so that made me feel even better about taking the job selling it.

  When I came out from behind the screen, Tenshi took me back out to the studio area. There was a guy with wavy brown hair carrying a camera, and he smiled when he saw me.

  “You must be Devin,” he said, coming over. “I’m Zane. Ashanta tells me you’re a soccer player.”

  I nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Great!” he said. “We’re going to try some soccer-themed active shots today. The clothing company wants to get in on World Cup fever with their campaign. So maybe you and Sabine can do some soccer moves.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Sabine walked up to us, smiling. “I’ve never played soccer before, so you’ll have to show me the ropes, Devin.”

  Sabine’s friendliness made me instantly more relaxed. I had remembered how mean Luna was toward Frida. I guess that, without even realizing it, I had expected Sabine to treat me the same way. What a relief that she was being nice!

  I smiled back. “Okay.” I couldn’t imagine teaching Sabine anything about modeling, but soccer, I could do.

  “Let’s get some solo shots first,” Zane said. “Sabine, I’ll start with you. Can you do some warm-up stretches, maybe?”

  “How about a yoga stretch?” Sabine asked.

  “Sounds good,” Zane replied.

  Sabine got in front of the green screen and did some leg lunges with her arms straight up over her head. Zane put t
he camera on a tripod and began taking pictures. Then he started shouting out commands.

  “Keep that neck straight!”

  “Try it from the opposite side now.”

  “Okay, now look at the camera while you’re doing it.”

  He was very nice about it, but really fast. And Sabine responded immediately every time he asked her to do something, moving into perfect position.

  “Great!” Zane said after what seemed like a hundred different poses. “All right, Devin, how about some soccer stretches?”

  “Sure,” I replied, and I realized my palms were sweating again, but I didn’t want to wipe them on my fresh blue shorts. I quickly blew on them and then stepped in front of the green screen. What would Frida do? I asked myself. She’d get right into the role of a soccer player. I knew how to do that in my sleep! So I confidently got on the floor and stretched out my left leg, pulling up the toes of my left sneaker, like I would before any soccer practice.

  Zane took the camera off the tripod and crouched down. “Okay, nice. Hold that,” he said. “Now try it with your right hand.”

  I pulled my left leg in and started to extend my right leg.

  Zane pulled the camera away from his face. “No, I mean, just use your right hand to pull back the foot on your left leg.”

  “Oh!” I said. “I mean, that’s not how you do the stretch, actually,” I said, but then I stopped myself. I could feel my face getting red. This wasn’t about stretching. Was Zane going to be mad?

  “Oh, sure, I get that, but let’s just see how it looks with your hand crossing your body,” Zane said.

  I nodded and did the stretch the way he asked.

  “Okay, now, eyes on your left foot,” he said. “And smile.”

  I smiled, a full teeth-out grin.

  “Try it with your mouth closed,” he said. I did, but it felt sort of weird. “Okay, good. Now, that’s more like a grimace. Just relax, Devin. Release your shoulders.”

  Release my shoulders? I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I kind of just let them slump.