“Do I look like a girl who plays double Dutch? What the hell is that, anyway?” she says with a thick Southern accent. I take it by the way this girl talks that she’s allowed to curse in her house.
“It’s like jump rope, but with two ropes,” Sally chimes in. “It’s fun. Maybe it’ll help you with your…uh, situation?” Is Sally trying to tell this girl she’s fat? I elbow her and give her a look.
“I think you’d be good for double Dutch.” I smile again. “What’s your name?”
“Melissa,” she answers. “What’s it to ya?”
“Well, I think you’d make a great turner. I mean, you have some big guns.” I do a muscle pose.
“Sure, you’re right.” Melissa flexes her muscles. “I’ve got four brothers who make me pump iron with them. I can even do ten straight push-ups. Wanna see?” Before we can answer, Melissa drops and gives us ten. Sally’s eyes squint like she’s seeing something gross. I think it’s great a girl her size can do at least one push-up.
“Well, that’s—” Sally starts.
“Nice!” I interrupt whatever dumb thing is going to fly out of Sally’s mouth.
“Hey, in this double Dutch thing, will I have to catch or kick anything? Because this soccer crap is for the birds.”
“No, but we’ll have to find one more person for us to have a team,” I tell her. “If we don’t, the camp is going to place us wherever they want.” Melissa looks around and thinks for a moment, then throws down the catching gloves.
“To hell with this. Come on!” Melissa says.
“Great!” I’m so excited I could hug her. Then Melissa runs off.
“Let’s go kick some double Dutch butt!” Melissa yells back.
“Her? Really?” Sally asks me with an incredulous look on her face. “She knows nothing about double Dutch.”
“Do you have a better choice?”
“I say we keep looking.”
“Come on, let’s go get my friend Tina. She’ll join our team!” Melissa calls back.
“Cool!” I yell. “Sally, let’s just go with it and see. All she’ll have to do is turn the ropes.” I try to kill the pessimism. “We’ll do the rest. Let’s just try. Come on!” I run to catch up with Melissa. Sally finally trots along.
—
We head over to the outdoor basketball courts, where girls are practicing for the basketball team. Melissa points to a girl on the court. This girl is shorter and skinnier than Melissa, with brown skin and long dark hair. I think she’s Latina, but I know one thing—that girl couldn’t dribble a ball if her life depended on it. She bounces it too low, then too high, then the ball finally hits her in the face. She also has earbuds in that are attached to her phone. She must be listening to music, because she surely isn’t listening to the coaches as they direct her for a layup. The ball doesn’t even come close to the hoop. Not even halfway up the pole. Wow! She’s bad. Sally smacks herself in the head.
“Please don’t say that’s her,” Sally groans. “That girl has no coordination. Introducing her to double Dutch is going to be like asking for a train wreck.”
“Well, she’s fearless. I’ll give her that.” I smirk.
Melissa skips onto the court and pulls her friend aside. The Latina takes out her earbuds, then quickly drops the ball and runs off the court with Melissa. The coach acts like she’s upset but wipes her forehead in relief and quickly turns back to the others doing the exercise.
Melissa introduces the short girl with butterfingers. “Hey, you guys, this is my best friend, Tina. Tina, this is Kayla and Sally.”
“Hi,” Sally and I say simultaneously.
“¡Hola!” Tina says. “¿Que pasa?” Okay, this might be difficult if she only speaks Spanish.
“We need another member for our double Dutch team,” Melissa says, all in.
“That sounds way more fun than this basketball stuff,” Tina says. Relieved she speaks English, I smile at her.
“I think you’re going to like it,” I add. Suddenly the coach does her duty and calls to Tina to rejoin the group.
“I’m outta here!” Tina and Melissa run off, laughing. Oh my gosh! Did she just flip the bird to the coach? My impression of Southern girls has just been completely shattered. Now I am learning why my mother tells me not to be so quick to judge people before I know the whole story.
“Really?” Sally looks at me. I don’t have an answer, so I shrug and run after Melissa and Tina.
“Let’s go! We have to sign up before it’s too late!” I say as I motion for my cousin to hurry.
We haul back to the gym to put our names in. As we enter, I see the scratchy-voice lady closing the registration window, and we call for her to wait. Melissa and Tina sign their names under our double Dutch list, but then I realize…
“We need a name for our team,” I say as I look to them for suggestions.
“How about Best Damn Double Dutch Crew Ever?” Melissa says.
“We can’t have curses in the title,” Sally says.
“What about All That Double Dutch Team?” Tina adds.
“Not bad,” I answer. “All that” is so outdated, but I don’t want to crush her enthusiasm.
“How about Mixed Nuts?” Sally says sarcastically. The scratchy-voice lady behind the window is getting impatient as she looks at her watch, then back at us.
“Forget it, we’ll come up with one later,” I say as I write “TBD” and hand in the sheet. It’s official. We have a team and we’re in!
Afterward we celebrate. Well, everyone but Sally. We turn around to see other girls already in the gym jumping double Dutch, including the Bouncing Belles. Lucky for us, we missed the exhibition to show our skills. Right now I don’t even know if we all actually have any skills as a team. Coach Kirsten sees us watching and trots over.
“So did you
