Freshman Year by Annameekee Hesik

purple couch in the center of the mall and wait for Kate.
    â€œCongrats on making the team,” Marisol says.
    â€œYeah,” Sarah adds. “Snaps for even trying out, especially considering the situation with some of the girls.”
    I’m mad that Kate blabbed to them about that, but I hide any emotion and say, “Whatever. It’s not really that big of a deal, you guys.”
    â€œWell, sure, for them,” Marisol agrees, “but what about you, Abbey? I mean, it sucks for you.” And then she adds, “I’m just saying. You should be careful.”
    â€œIt’s not like they’re going to…” I start to say, but then we see Kate descending the escalator, and I gladly drop the subject.
    She has her back to us and is laughing at something Dorkass Derrick said. He’s standing two steps above her, and I can tell he’s spending most of his time looking down her shirt from his convenient position. When they reach the bottom, she fakes a little stumble as the steps disappear, and he reaches out on cue to catch her before she falls. I have to fight the urge to regurgitate my granola bar. Maybe it’s because I’m jealous of what they have, but I think it’s mostly because I can tell he’s a sleaze. Kate throws her head back and laughs again. Her perfect brown hair cascades down her back, just like I am sure she had practiced in front of the mirror all summer. She hugs him good-bye, then slowly makes her way over to us.
    â€œOh my God,” Marisol says, and I know what she’s talking about. “She is so wearing a Miracle Bra.”
    Sarah covers her mouth to hide her laughter.
    â€œLadies,” Kate says, “always remember to leave them wanting more.” She turns and smiles at Derrick, while also somehow making her new cleavage pop.
    â€œIt’s hard to believe she’s the same girl who cries every time we watch Nemo get fish-napped,” I say to Mari and Sarah.
    â€œHaha,” Kate says, “let’s go.”
    We hit Lady Foot Locker, Finish Line, and Journeys, but they’re a bust because they don’t have any women’s basketball shoes that I like in size ten, and I refuse to wear men’s shoes like the salespeople always suggest I do. Finally, we try Champs.
    â€œHow about these?” Sarah holds up a pair of bright red Converse that is on display. A sign above it says, You know what they say about guys with big feet… “These are a men’s seventeen. Is that big enough for you, Abbey?” she says and laughs.
    â€œGood one, Sarah,” Marisol says giving Sarah a high five.
    I flip them both off and continue searching for the perfect shoes. And when I say perfect, I mean like the ones Garrett and Stef have. “Hey, these are the ones,” I say and hold up a pair of blue-and-white low-tops. “Do you have these in a size ten?” I ask the Champs employee who seems more interested in helping Kate work the treadmill. He looks doubtful but goes in the back to check.
    When he emerges with a box in his hand, Kate says, “I guess miracles do happen.”
    I slide my foot in, lace them up, and jump around a little to make sure they’re not too small. “They fit!” I say and then get butterflies in my stomach. Even after just four days of practice, I feel like I belong on the team. “I’ll take them.”

    *

    We all go our separate ways after arriving at the food court. Kate, Sarah, and Marisol stand in line for burgers, and even though Keeta’s not standing behind the counter looking irresistible in her colorful polyester uniform and cap, I opt for a corn dog, french fries, and lemonade. We meet up again with our trays, and I suggest a table near Hot Dog on a Stick in case Keeta’s just on a break or she comes in for the second shift. Kate decides it has enough guy-viewing potential, so we sit down.
    While I innocently munch on my fries, my friends