Free Hat Trick by Alex Morgan Page B

thought.
    â€œIt’s good to be assertive on the soccer field. That’s the kind of aggression you want to channel, not the kind that gets you yellow cards,” Dad said. “So stick with it, and I bet you’ll keep learning and growing as a soccer player. At the end of the day, all you can do is keep playing your best,” he continued. “You can’t control the other girls on the team or the coach. Just keep being the best Devin you can be. Which, in my opinion, is always pretty awesome.”
    I smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
    â€œAs for your friends, make sure you keep communication open with them,” he suggested. “Talk directly to them about how you’re feeling, and be honest. It’s the best way to avoid drama. Trust me. At my ripe old age, I know.” He laughed.
    â€œAs for Maisie, I think it’s nice that you want to help your little sister.” Dad smiled warmly at me. “But don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Do what you can, when you can. She’ll be happy if you take her out to kick the soccer ball around every once in a while. Saving a school’s entire soccer program is a tall order, Devin.”
    Then he looked at me and shook his head. “Although, you did save the Kangaroos and turn that team around. If anyone could save the elementary school soccer program, it would be you.”
    I felt better already. Suddenly my problems didn’t seem that big and bad anymore.
    â€œYou know,” Dad said thoughtfully as he kicked the ball out from under my foot before he started moving with it, “if you could conquer all three of these problems, it would be a real hat trick!”
    A hat trick was when a player scored three goals in one game. A flawless hat trick was when a player scored three goals in a row in the same game.
    I felt my confidence soaring, all thanks to my dad.
    He kicked the ball toward me high, setting me up for a header. As I jumped into the air to meet it, I yelled out, “I’m gonna go for flawless!”

When I woke up the next day, I grabbed my phone right away to check for my morning text from Kara. When I’d lived in Connecticut, Kara and I had always picked out our outfits together. Since I’d moved, and with the three-hour time difference, we couldn’t do that anymore, but instead, every morning Kara sent me a selfie of what she was wearing. After I got dressed, I did the same.
    It might snow today! Kara had texted along with her photo. She wore a striped purple sweater hoodie, jeans, and a pair of silver fur-lined boots with cute little pom-poms hanging off the back. A headband with a sparkly snowflake on it pulled her long brown hair away from her face.
    I felt a pang of jealousy. Although I loved the warm, sunny Southern California weather, I used to always look forward to the first snow of the year, even if it was just a dusting. When the whole world was covered in white, everything looked so pretty.
    But then I thought of the cold. And wet shoes and gloves. And no soccer. So I cheered up as I slipped on my flip-flops. No way could Kara wear these in New England right now!
    I posed in front of my floor-length mirror, making a funny face as I snapped a pic to send to Kara. I wore a pink baseball tee with the number thirteen on it. Mom had found it for me, and since thirteen was my jersey number on the Kicks, she’d known I would love it. My long brown hair was usually stick-straight, but today it hung in beachy waves around my shoulders. After I’d taken a shower the night before, I’d put my wet hair in braids. When I’d taken the braids out this morning, my hair had had a nice wave. Not as fabulous as Frida’s curls, but I liked it.
    After I texted Kara, I sent a text to Jessi, Zoe, and Emma, asking them all to meet me in the courtyard at lunch. Talking with my dad last night had put me in a really good mood. A hat trick! I could do it. And I was going to start