Page 12 of The Game Is Afoot

“I’m glad you’re here,” he continues as we follow him back to the side of the field, where he’s laid out a blanket and a sweatshirt next to his and Derek’s chairs. “There’s been a lady hovering behind me, asking if I really need all that space. She went to the restroom, but I think I was maybe two minutes away from her taking me out.”

“Who was it?” I ask, looking around. Florence has alreadyclaimed her space, right next to Derek, complete with a lace-covered folding table, leather butterfly chairs, camera tripod, and the quilted team banner that she made herself. She’s the only one who cares enough about her placement on the sidelines to fight over it—the rest of the parents from our team are just standing around and chatting while their kids chase each other across the field.

“Her daughter was wearing purple, and I’m pretty sure the Purple Platypuses don’t even play until eleven fifteen.”

“Is itplatypusesorplatypi?” Pearl swoops in between us, throwing her bag to the grass. “Becauseplatypusesdoesn’t sound right.”

“Platypuses,” Derek answers, not looking up from the book of game show trivia he has on his lap. “Becauseplatypusdoes not have Latin roots.”

Pearl nods, satisfied. “That makes sense.” And she runs off with Langston to join the other Aquamarine Alligators in their game of tag.

“Thatisright!” The slow and overly cheerful voice makes me tense immediately. A lot of people speak that way to Derek because of his Down syndrome, and it’s quickly becoming one of the things I hate most in the world.

“Yeah, he knows,” I say sharply and turn around, ready to give this lady my best stank face. But it’s quickly replaced with a look of horror.

“Heyyyyy girrrrrl!” Bethany—self-care coach and girlboss Bethany—puts her arms out wide to pull me into a hug, and I just let it happen for some reason. “What a fun surprise!”

I catch a raised eyebrow from Jack, and I can feel Jasmine’s glare, too, askingWho is this?I flash them both wide eyes back.I’ll tell you later.

“Dakota isn’t playing until the next round,” Bethany continues, much faster than the way she spoke to Derek, of course. “But I like to get here early and get the best spot!”

Soshe’sthe one trying to start something with Jack over our saved spots? But as she gestures to her daughter in a purple jersey, huddling with some other girls around an iPad, I remember what I learned last night and hold in my eye roll.Don’t be an asshole, Mavis!

“I’m so glad I ran into you, because I just couldn’t get our conversation out of my mind all night. I know you were hesitant, but have you given any more thought to—”

“Oh, what’s that, Dad?” I turn around and pretend to catch my dad’s eye, even though he’s muttering to himself as he tries to unfold our chairs. “Sorry, I need to help him with that. But so good to see you! Have fun today, Dakota!”

I’m not going to be an asshole, but that doesn’t mean I want to give Bethany a chance to pitch me again in the name of Madam C. J. Walker. Because then, despite my best intentions, my asshole-ness might just jump right out!

My dad jerks the chair open before I can even pretend to aid him, and there’s a loud clang as it knocks over my giant metal water bottle.

“That thing is as big as a baby, Mavis,” he says, shaking his head. “No one needs that much water.”

“We’re supposed to get thirty-two ounces a day!” Never mind that I was just thinking the same thing yesterday.

“So youdidget a chance to check out my I LUV ME method,” Bethany says, settling her chairs not even a foot behind us, as if someone else is going to try and swoop in after we leave. “TheIstands for Imbibe those ounces! And really, you should try and get at least sixty-four!”

I blink at her, at a loss for words because 1) I didn’t realize ILUV ME was a goddamn acrostic poem, and 2) am I going to have to keep swerving this lady’s pyramid—excuse me,tree—scheme for the whole morning?, and finally 3) sixty-four ounces? How is that even possible??

Luckily, Jasmine sees I need an assist and loops her arm through mine, pulling me farther down the field. “Sorry, I need to borrow her for a second.”

Jack sits down next to Derek, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. I’m leaving him right in the line of fire, but I think he should be safe. He’s not part of Bethany’s target demographic.

“Are you wafting some pheromone or something that makes you attract the most annoying women?” Jasmine mimes fanning my armpits. “What is going on?”

I fill Jasmine in on last night’s Clover Scouts meeting—Bethany’s “business” opportunity and Ruth’s whispered warnings in the dark. Her head is falling back in laughter before I’ve even finished.

“I can’t decide if little missRuthiewarning you about her makes this lady a hero or an even worse villain than Ruth?”

“But like Ruth said, she had cancer. And stage four! Coming back from that, the recovery…it could make you do some weird things. My mom didn’t get the chance to—”

My voice cracks, and Jasmine puts her arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. I don’t have to finish that sentence for her.

“And I feel for her,” Jasmine murmurs, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “No mom—noperson—should have to go through that. But you can be a cancer survivorandbe a pushy MLM evangelist. One doesn’t cross the other out. Especially if she’s claiming some miracle cancer cure to shill her online courses.”

“For the record, she never actually said that to me. And Ruthclaims her oils are what really cured her cancer, so, like…consider the source.”

“But the I love me method?” Jasmine wrinkles her nose like she smells something funky.

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