told me about the race. You beat him by a mile. Way to go, girl.â
âNot quite a mile,â Molly said. âBut I donât think I want to play soccer.â
âReally?â she said. âYou love soccer.â
âI think I make a better fan than a player.â
They watched without talking for a few minutes.
âWhat would you like to do?â Celia asked.
Molly pulled the blanket up around her ears. She couldnât bring herself to speak the words that were bubbling up inside.
Celia looked sideways at her and said, âMoll, what do you have stashed away in that head of yours?â
Molly wanted to tell her about the talent competition. She wanted to tell her that she wanted to sing.
âI want to see my mom,â Molly said. âI want to know about her. When I ask Dad, he either gets mad, changes the subject or looks sad. How come?â
âI donât know why he does that,â Celia said and looked back at the game.
The Cougarsâ fans exploded. The players huddled and high-fived in front of Murphyâs net.
âDid you see what happened?â Celia asked.
âNo,â Molly said. âI canât believe I missed it.â
Murphy emerged from the crowd, holding the ball. He rolled it to the referee. The score was 2-1.
âHey, Moll, Iâm sorry about your mom,â Celia said. âHow about I talk to your dad?â
âSure, thanks,â Molly said.
âBut thatâs not everything, is it?â she said.
Molly took a deep breath.
Finally the words came out. âThereâs a talent competition in town,â she said. âI want to enter. But I also donât really want to. I donât want to compete. I just want to sing.â
Once Molly started to talk, she couldnât stop. âPaige is going to dance. A lot of grade eights are entering.â The words flooded out. She told Celia about the competition, her dad and the boys. âI want to sing more than anything.â She stopped for a moment, then added, âOther than seeing my mom.â
Celiaâs jaw slackened and her eyes opened wide. âWow, honey,â she said. âThanks for sharing that with me. I didnât even know you sang.â
âI donât,â Molly said. âI mean, I donât sing to anyone but myself, with my mouth closed. I mean, I donât sing out loud. Except for once, when I sang to Dad.â
Celia bit her lip as if it was she now who didnât know what to say. âHe must have been surprised,â she said.
âI think I surprised myself as much as him,â Molly said. âIâve listened to my voice in my head, but I didnât know it would feel that good to sing out loud.â
Celia laughed. âOkay, Moll. Thatâs a bit crazy, girl. But I hear you.â
Their conversation ended when the Cougars charged into Murphyâs zone. The Striker defensemen were scattered across the field. Molly and Celia threw off their blankets, jumped up and screamed, âDanny! Avtar! Where are you guys?â
The Cougar players passed the ball in front of the net, up the wing and then back across the back line.
Molly clenched her fists. If they scored, the game would be tied.
Murphyâs eyes never left the ball. Danny and the other Striker defensemen were losing ground as the play moved closer and closer to Murphy and the net. Molly swallowed the lump in her throat. The Strikers left way too much to Murphy, as far as she was concerned.
âCome on, Danny!â she hollered. âGet with the game.â
A Cougar player passed the ball to his wingman. A tall lanky boy trapped it, took a stride and wound up. Murphy moved to the right in anticipation. The striker kicked with brutal force, sending the ball to Murphyâs left. The crowd went silent for a second. Molly watched the ball soar through the air. As it did, Murphy quickly changed his position. The tips of his fingers