Free Cinderella in Skates by Carly Syms Page A

supposedly has, I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?  
    I try not to let out a long, defeated sigh but I guess I don't do a very good job because the other girl glances over at me and smiles from behind her goalie mask.  
    "They love her," she mutters. "Golden girl who can't do anything wrong."  
    I grimace. "How'd you know?"
    "That you were thinking about her?" She laughs. "I've tried out the last two years and this is the first time when they don't already have a back-up goalie. Coach Dobrov's pretty loyal."  
    "Even when they loaf it through tryouts?"  
    She shrugs. "Guess that's the reward for making the team. I'm Clara."  
    "Natalie."  
    She smiles at me, and I think it's too bad that she seems so nice because I'm going to have to kick her ass at these tryouts.  
    "Okay," the assistant coach says. "We're just going to start with the basics. I'll stand at this face-off circle and Erica will stand at the opposite one, and we'll pepper you with shots. Stop them. Clara, get in net."
    I skate over to the boards to watch Clara's run at the first drill. The assistant coach takes the first shot -- Clara tracks the puck the whole way and reacts well, dipping her knee pads down to deflect the shot harmlessly away from the back of the net. Not bad. She stops Erica's weak, bouncing shot and a few more from the coach before she loses focuses and a barrage of shots find their way buried behind her.
    And I know I can do better than that.
    I switch places with Clara and get my bearings in the net, angling my body toward the assistant coach, ready for the first shot.  
    The next thing I know, Erica's fired on me and I lunge to my left, swing out my stick and just manage to deflect the shot enough to keep it from blasting past me into the net for a goal.  
    "Not bad," the coach calls out. "Not bad at all."  
    I stop most of the shots that come my way, and when I turn around, there are just three pucks behind me in the net -- way less than what Clara let in.  
    We run through several more drills -- Erica even takes part in a couple of them -- before the assistant (Coach King, she told us midway through the second activity) dismisses us, letting us know that Coach Dobrov will post the final roster in the rink in two days.  
    I'm happy walking back to the locker room, skates in hand, knowing that I don't think I could've done much better this afternoon to impress, when Erica Wunders falls into step beside me.  
    "That wasn't half bad," she says. "For a desert girl and all."  
    I frown, the snottiness in her voice not lost on me. "Well, I'm a Wisconsin girl now," I say, surprising myself when I realize I don't totally hate the way that sounds.
    The corners of Erica's mouth twitch. "We'll see about that, won't we?"  
    "Uh, I guess so."  
    "I mean, you're probably not going to beat out Clara or anything so I wouldn't get too excited."  
    My heart's racing -- I have no idea what Erica's trying to do here -- but I keep my face stoney and calm. "We'll see about that, won't we?"  
    Confusion flashes across Erica's face but it disappears as quickly as it comes. "I'd trust me on this one," she says smoothly as if she hasn't missed a beat. Maybe she hasn't. "I know hockey."  
    "And I'm starting to," I reply. "And I think I did a pretty bang-up job."  
    Erica smirks. "That's the difference between you and me, I guess," she replies. "Catch you later, Natalie." She picks up her pace and walks right past the locker room and for that, I'm grateful.  
    What, I wonder, is that all about?

CHAPTER EIGHT

    December

    Two days later is the day we've been waiting for the last month. It's my judgment day, at least in the eyes of West High School's hockey coaches.  
    Yep.
    Today's the day we find out who made the team.
    My stomach's in knots, twisting and twirling and really mad at me for not eating my usual breakfast, when I get to school in the morning.  
    Coach Dobrov   had said she'd post her final roster first thing in the