The crowd cheered when the ref called time. I saw Grace, Megan, Anjali, Jade, and Gabriela, the eighth-grade players who had been suspended for this game, on their feet and applauding for us. A rivalry with another team had almost gone too far, and Grace and her friends had planned to spray-paint Kicks-blue flowers on the field of the opposing team, the Roses, to send a message. I had tried to talk them out of it, but they were caught on the field by the Roses’ coach right before they could paint the flowers.

They all regretted what had happened and were really disappointed in themselves that they had let the rest of the Kicks down by being suspended. They would have felt even guiltier if we had lost, but luckily we didn’t, thanks to Frida!

Hands slapping me on the back in congratulations brought my attention back to the field and my teammates.

“Glad you got the ball to Frida, Devin.” Jessi grinned. Her springy curls bounced as she landed next to me, still filled with energy from the game.

“It was thanks to you. That was a great steal,” I said to my friend, and her smile grew bigger.

“You know, I’m starting to think we’re a really great team,” Jessi said, and I laughed.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to get that feeling myself.” I grinned back.

“Devin!” Frida bounded over, her brown eyes widening dramatically as she stopped in front of me, placing a hand on her heart. “My first goal ever, and it’s all thanks to you! I pledge my loyalty to you, from this day forth.”

Um, did I mention Frida can be a bit dramatic? I guess it comes with the territory when you are an actor. When I lived in Connecticut, I didn’t know anybody who was a TV star. It was just one of the many ways life was different in Southern California, like not having snow in the winter and always living under a drought warning.

“You don’t need to do that,” I told her. “You’ve always been an awesome defender. Now you just showed us you have the chops to score, too.”

Frida shook her head from side to side. “No, it goes way beyond that. It’s you, Devin. You’ve been good luck to me ever since we first met. Remember how I was terrible at soccer and didn’t want to play?”

“How could I forget? You just sat on the field reciting Shakespeare. You didn’t even try,” I reminded her.

“Well, you were the one who helped me combine my passion for acting with my love of soccer,” Frida said. “But I’ve been thinking. It goes way beyond that.”

“Goes way beyond what?” Emma, the Kicks goalie, said. She jogged up to us with Zoe, a midfielder. They’re some of the best friends I’ve made since I moved to California, along with Jessi and Frida.