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to return if they’d actually been playing another team. Her third attempt wasn’t bad, but no one yelled crater maker either. What was she doing here?
    The whistle blew again. “All right, girls,” said Mr. Finch. “Good job. Now I want you to organize yourselves into groups of three. Make sure someone in your group has a ball. One of you will bump it, one of you will set it, and one of you will tip it over the net. Then switch positions. Got it?”
    The girls scattered to form groups with their friends, and Dana was left standing awkwardly beside the coach. Two girls jogged back from the water fountain. “Ah, here we go,” said Mr. Finch. “Dana, here are Lisa Torelli and Emily Van Kamp. Why don’t you three form a group together?”
    Uh-oh . The girls were both in grade eight and had wicked serves. No way would they want her in their group. “Okay,” she said.
    “Let’s go,” said Emily.
    The girls worked together for a while. Dana was pretty good at bumping and setting but discovered she was really good at jumping and tipping the ball over the net.
    “Wow, I wish I could jump like that,” said Lisa, coming over to give her a high five.
    “Well, I wish I could serve like you do,” said Dana, giving Lisa a high five in return.
    “I wish you two would get back to the drill so I can show you again how awesome I am,” said Emily, and they all laughed.
    Mr. Finch outlined a few more drills before blowing his whistle to end the tryouts. “Thank you, ladies,” he said. “You’ve worked hard. You know I’d put you all on the team if I could, but I can only have twelve. The list will be up tomorrow morning. Look for it right away, because our first practice will be at lunch. We’re going to have to jump right in. First game is next week!”
    Twelve? Yikes. Dana looked around, her dream of playing on the team flickering out. Oh well, she thought. She could always try out again next year.
    “See you tomorrow, Dana,” called Emily as she ran by.
    Tomorrow? A tiny, stubborn flame of hope flared in Dana’s heart and dared to start burning again.

Eleven
    THE NEXT MORNING , Dana rushed to school in hopes of seeing the list before anyone else got there. She didn’t expect to make the team. Still, if her name wasn’t there, she’d rather be alone with her disappointment.
    The schoolyard was deserted as she wheeled her bike to the racks. Good. She smoothed her hair, took a deep breath and walked inside. As she walked toward the gym, Dana immediately spotted the list taped to the door, but the names were still too small to read. Her heart began to beat more quickly. She walked the last few steps with her eyes closed, then took a deep breath. She opened one eye. The names blurred together as she scrolled down the list. Dana opened both eyes wide and read it again. Her throat started to hurt. She read it slowly one more time to be sure. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took off down the hallway. Dana unlocked her bike, threw on her helmet and tore down the street, pedaling like crazy. After several minutes, she began to slow down. Finally, she stopped her bike by the side of the road, propped it up against the curb and sat on the grass. She took in a few deep breaths. Then she smiled. She smiled so wide it almost hurt. She laughed out loud. She’d made it. She’d made the team. She was an Eagle.
    After a moment, a bike skidded up beside her. “You’re not stuck again, are you?” It was Jason.
    “Nope, not today. Look at this stylish Velcro band my mom got me.” Dana patted her shin and grinned. Her lip got hung up on her braces, but she didn’t even care.
    “Nice. What’s up? You seem pretty excited about something.”
    “I made the volleyball team.”
    “Oh yeah? Congratulations. I knew you would.”
    “You did?”
    “Of course. I’ve seen you play.”
    He did?
    “And you’re tall. That helps.”
    Hmmm. He’d noticed that too.
    “Well, are you coming to school or not? Won’t be as much