My Life As Emmalyn

Meet my lovely godfather

"The game is next week! I don't want to see any slacking!" Coach Don yells on the field. "I will extend practice if I don't see 100% effort!"

I slide into the bleachers on the home side of the field. I take out my homework and iPod. Lying on my stomach, I start working away. I know. Jason likes to call me a nerd for always doing my homework as soon as I can. I like to say it's efficient time management. That way, I can do other things and have a clear schedule. I don't love homework. Rather, it's more like I get it over with as quick as possible.

Ugh. Why did I sign up for these classes? All the teachers give homework every day, even if it's only the first day of school. Hm, math is easy; it is simple algebra. Spanish is just vocab plus conjugations. English, I just have to read. Biology, I have Q&A's from the book. Art is just some quick sketches.

Concentrating, I diligently work on every subject from easiest to hardest work. By the time I finish, my hand is cramping. Hey, it's a new record! I finished in fourth-five minutes. It's only because the lessons were easy.

As I pack up my belongings, someone calls me. "EMMY!"

I look out on the field. Practice is over. Coach and some of the Varsity team are on the field. Everyone else already hit the locker rooms. I see Jason waving at me with a football clasped in his hand. He's on the 20 yd line. "GO LONG!"

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO 'GO LONG' ON BLEACHERS!" I yell back at him. "I'LL TRIP!" Instead of going higher on the bleachers, I drop my stuff and jump off the bleachers. I run to the 10 yd line on the other side, and he throws it. I barely make it to the 10 yard line before the ball comes toward me. Jumping high in the air, I catch it with both hands. The force of the ball catches me off guard and sends me tumbling onto the grass.

How wonderful. I have grass stains all over my clothes; I'm wearing a white top. I sit on the grass and inspect the damage. A hand sticks into my vision. I grab it and am lifted up.

"Thanks John," I grin.

"Nice catch," he laughs.

"It was just so unbelievably graceful," I chuckle.

"Em, not many people can catch Jace's throw. Plus, you are a girl." Wayne joins.

"Hi Emma. It's been a while since we last saw you here. You're getting rusty with your catches," Coach Don smiles.

"I am not!" I cross my arms. "I caught the ball."

"Yeah," Jace comes and leans his body on my shoulder. I frown at him. He always uses me as his armrest. He adds, "You fell rather clumsily though."

"Gee, thanks for noticing." I scowl.

"It's the catch that counts," Tyler sides with me.

"Damn straight!" I high-five him. "Dude, Sunny. You stink. Go wash up. I don't want to smell you all the way home." I inch away from Jason.

"Girls like me all hot and sweaty," Jason grins though I'm sure Rebecca would love him anyways.

"Eww. TMI." I wrinkle my nose in disgust. The guys chuckle.

"Everyone go wash up," Coach Don orders. "Emma, may I talk to you?"

As everyone leaves, I walk with Coach Don. "Yes?"

"Have you thought about being my manager?" He asks.

"Manager?" I gasp. "Won't that conflict with cheer though?"

"I feel like you would be a great manager. The team is already well-acquainted with you. You just need to warm up to the newbies." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, "I'm not quite sure how this would affect cheer, which I must say congratulations. It was a pleasant surprise to hear you tried out and made it. I'm proud of you, though it does create some problems. I can talk to Liz, I mean Coach Stevenson, about it. I'm sure we could work something else. That is, if you agree to my offer?"