Aw man… I thought, grimacing as I looked at the sticky mess on the bottom of my sneaker. It must be an omen of some sort… I trailed off. I had no idea what this was supposed to mean. But I am big into omens and signs and stuff.

My team was up three points, and this was the championship game. As I jogged out to my position, something caught my eye. Oh dear God! I moaned in my head. It was Marako, my little sister. She’s weird. I’m just gonna put it out there. WEIRD. Today, she had gone for the colonial look, wearing a long and simple dress, buckled shoes, and a bonnet. I am not kidding.

The ref blew the whistle. Game time. My body shifted, ready to play. I ran down the field, making sure I wasn’t off sides as I plowed ahead. My friend Marissa dribbled the ball with practiced expertise. Unexpectedly, she passed the ball to me. It was the last quarter and we had only minutes left, now. Could this be a winning shot? I kicked with extreme force, a volley, and I watched the ball glide into goal. Yes!