My big sister is the soccer star in our family. The only reason I played was because my sister had begged and my parents thought that it was a wonderful idea. After all it made it easier for them: only having to drive back and forth from one place, having only one game schedule to keep up with.

I didn’t have the heart to tell them I didn’t like soccer. It would crush my sister who spent so many afternoons teaching me how to kick straight and guard against the opposing team. It would make my mom and dad upset because then they’d lose the routine they’d so carefully built. They wanted convenience and ease.

So, I was stuck. I went back and forth to soccer matches and practices. I kicked the ball when it came to be, guarded a player when I had to. But I also hid the volleyball pamphlets I’d put in my folder, I’d wash my uniform at Becky’s house and I’d be the only girl without cheering moms and dads at my volleyball matches.

Then my sister caught me sneaking my stuff in. Now she cheers for me, and I for her.