{"product_id":"alls-fair-in-love-and-field-hockey-isbn-9780593898451","title":"All's Fair in Love and Field Hockey","description":"\u003cb\u003eAfter a heated rivalry turns into an unexpected truce, two rival field hockey stars discover something deeper than competition between them in this queer YA romance perfect for fans of \u003ci\u003eShe Drives Me Crazy\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eCleat Cute!\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\"A masterclass in romantic tension.\"—Becky Albertalli, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eSimon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEvelyn was raised to see field hockey as war.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore she could write her own name, her family’s legacy on the field was already spelled out. Every step Evelyn takes toward glory is within a footprint her mother left behind. And no step matters more than this next one, with Evelyn about to lead her varsity team into their final battle season. Evelyn is beyond ready to score the Nationals title and win the critical scholarship to her mom’s alma mater that comes with it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis year, she’s out for blood, and nothing can stand in her way...\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e...except for Rosa Alvarez, the highly talented new recruit on her biggest rival’s team.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter a humiliating homecoming game and follow-up prank leave the two enemies in a stalemate, they grudgingly strike a deal to help each other overcome their weaknesses on the field. But the more time Evelyn spends with Rosa, the more she finds herself casting her hardened armor aside, until she begins to wonder what life might be like if she left the battlefield behind and fought for love instead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\"This one’s definitely a keeper!”—Jennifer Dugan, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003e\u003ci\u003eSome Girls Do\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eAll's Fair in Love and Field Hockey\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn\u003cb\u003e ALA Rainbow Book Project\u003c\/b\u003e selection!\u003cbr\u003eA \u003cb\u003eYALSA Quick Pick\u003c\/b\u003e for Reluctant Readers!\u003cbr\u003eA \u003cb\u003eLand of Enchantment Book Award \u003c\/b\u003eNominee! \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eRefreshing\u003c\/b\u003e and \u003cb\u003erealistic\u003c\/b\u003e. A sweet romance of introspection and renewal.\"—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eSweet\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003esporty\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003ehopeful\u003c\/b\u003e.\"—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"This sapphic love story[...]interweaves discussions of grief with \u003cb\u003eheartstring-tugging \u003c\/b\u003ethemes of self-discovery.\"—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"A \u003cb\u003ethoughtful\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eluminous\u003c\/b\u003e romance novel.\"—\u003ci\u003eAlbuquerque Journal\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eHeartfelt\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003esensitive\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003ewholly irresistible.\u003c\/b\u003e\"—Becky Albertalli, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eSimon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Full of tension both on and off the field, \u003ci\u003eAll’s Fair in Love and Field Hockey\u003c\/i\u003e is the perfect blend of \u003cb\u003eforbidden romance\u003c\/b\u003e and \u003cb\u003epulse-pounding gameplay\u003c\/b\u003e. This one’s definitely a keeper!”—Jennifer Dugan, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eSome Girls Do\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I \u003cb\u003echeered\u003c\/b\u003e, I \u003cb\u003eswooned\u003c\/b\u003e, I \u003cb\u003eloved.\u003c\/b\u003e\"—Dahlia Adler, award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eHome Field Advantage\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Kit Rosewater could coach us all on how to create the perfect mix of \u003cb\u003erivalry\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eforbidden relationships\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003ehigh-stakes sports tension\u003c\/b\u003e!”—Jason June, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eOut of the Blue\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“A \u003cb\u003evibrant\u003c\/b\u003e and \u003cb\u003eexhilarating\u003c\/b\u003e debut. Kit Rosewater deserves a victory lap for this heart-thudding winner!”—Julian Winters, award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eRunning With Lions\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"Kit Rosewater leaves it all out on the field, delivering not only \u003cb\u003ethe perfect romantic rivalry\u003c\/b\u003e, but an \u003cb\u003eintimate\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003elayered\u003c\/b\u003e exploration of queer identity.\"—Brian D. Kennedy, award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eA Little Bit Country\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eRaw\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003espirited\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003eauthentic\u003c\/b\u003e.\"—Erin Baldwin, author of \u003ci\u003eWish You Weren't Here\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eTender\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003cb\u003eromantic\u003c\/b\u003e, and \u003cb\u003ehopeful. \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eAll's Fair in Love and Field Hockey\u003c\/i\u003e is a winner.\" —Amanda Sellet, author of\u003ci\u003e By the Book \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Full of \u003cb\u003equintessential yearning for self-discovery\u003c\/b\u003e. A sapphic MVP of a book that’ll have you cheering until the very last page!”—Matthew Hubbard, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Last Boyfriends Rules for Revenge \u003c\/i\u003eKit Rosewater lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico with her partner and two small children who are bent on destroying the universe. She is the author of The Derby Daredevils\u003ci\u003e, \u003c\/i\u003ean illustrated middle grade series. Kit has been a theater and English teacher, a bookseller, a Children’s Literature academic, and a Hot Cheetos addict. That’s all behind her now. Well, most of it. \u003ci\u003eAll’s Fair in Love and Field Hockey \u003c\/i\u003eis her debut young adult novel.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI drag myself through the door, weighed down with every possible layer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBAM! A hand protector bounces off the lockers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTHUD! A shin guard scrapes against the bench bolted to the floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI shuffle into the locker room like the Michelin Man, like a middle school boy who decided at the last minute to be a Transformers robot for Halloween and used couch cushions as a costume. Dad likes to say that when I step onto the field, I have the intimidation and swagger of an NFL lineman, but I don’t think that’s winning me any more sexy points than looking like a tire mascot would.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good practice, ladies.” Gloria, our field hockey coach, leans against the wall by the towels. She’s a bullish white woman in her fifties, with strong, pronounced shoulders and box-­dyed red hair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Evelyn,” she says with a nod as I waddle past her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI heave myself onto the bench as my teammates squeeze past each other and skitter inside. They yank towels down from the shelf and crowd their hockey sticks against the wall. They move with the nimbleness of people not weighed down by forty pounds of padding and the crushing demands of blocking perfection. Even their voices are light and bubbly, bouncing off the tile floors like soapsuds.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Don’t you dare take up all the hot water.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Where did I put my conditioner kit?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hey! That’s my towel!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“God, my toes look disgusting.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I told you to wrap them after class.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI smile and ease my other hand from its glove, enjoying the slowness that comes with missing the first round of showers. Everyone else slips off their jerseys and flings their skorts over stall doors in seconds. But for me, the transition from goalie to girl is a process. I have to take my time, removing myself piece by piece until there’s just skin. My boyfriend, Caleb, plays football, so between the two of us, we’d give the longest striptease ever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe truth is, sometimes I’m not in a hurry to take off the uniform at all. It’s sort of like a security blanket. A badass security blanket.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m partway out of the massive chest-­protector pad when Natalia pokes her head around the locker bay. Like me, she’s still in uniform.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Captain?” she says, like my title is a question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI stop fiddling with the side buckle. “Yeah?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m . . . I was just wondering . . .” Natalia intertwines her fingers and bites down on her lip. Her blond curls are neatly tucked into two braids. She’s a freshie, one of the newest members of the team, and definitely knows how to work the help-­me-­I’m-­a-­baby-­deer look.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI sigh and pat a spot on the bench. Natalia totters around the corner, but stops, and stands right in front of me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What’s up?” I ask.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe twirls one of the braids around her finger. “I can’t . . . I can’t do back passes.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Ah.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI grab my stick from behind me and stand next to ­Natalia. I’m about to place it in her hands when I pause, holding the stick just above her palms. “What did I tell you about the phrase I can’t?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNatalia rolls her eyes. “That it always comes with a yet,” she says in monotone. “But seriously, Evelyn, I’ve tried so many times on the field. I can’t aim anywhere with back passes. And with the Van Darian game coming up next week, I know that I’m going to accidentally shoot the ball into the stands or even into Van Darian’s goal box and everyone’s going to hate me and—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Whooooa, hold it!” I squeeze Natalia’s hands until I feel her pulse settle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI get why she’s freaked out. Van Darian’s our fiercest rival in field hockey, mostly because they’re the second-­best team in the district. As an all-­girls boarding school, the players have a reputation for taking their repressed sexual energy out on hockey sticks. But they’re second-­best for a reason. And that reason is us.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI help Natalia take a step away from the benches.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Like this,” I say gently. I reposition the hockey stick in her hands and turn her shoulders at a slight angle. “Now relax.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNatalia goes stiff at the pose, then breathes in and out, softening with each exhalation. Finally I see the connect, the moment when the stick becomes an extension of her own arms. I grab an extra ball from my locker.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Now try a back pass. Aim for the towel basket.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe nails it on the first swing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah!” I pump a fist in the air. Natalia breaks out into a huge grin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh my gosh, thank you! Thanks, Evelyn! Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe squeals and throws the stick to me, then skips back around the locker bay. I smile and return to my chest pad.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnother set of footsteps comes squashing around the ­corner.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hey, Katie,” I say without looking up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie Lu, center midfielder and my ride-­or-­die field hockey wife, opens the locker right next to mine. Her towel is tucked around her torso, and her jet-­black hair drips water onto the floor. She reaches for her phone and scrolls through.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Shit,” she mutters.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI pull off one of my shoes. “What is it?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Shiiiiiiit.” Katie throws her head back and slumps onto the bench. “Mr. Figuel doesn’t think I should get to play next week.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What?” I pause at the other shoe and read the email over Katie’s shoulder. “Academic probation? We’ve only been in school for a month.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie looks at me dolefully. “I sort of failed the last three weekly quizzes.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI blow a raspberry and grab the phone from Katie’s hand. “All right,” I say, already typing. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to email Mr. Figuel and ask for a retest next Friday.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie’s eyes go wide. “But—­”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hold up a finger. “Melanie’s in advanced calculus. She aced Mr. Fig’s class last year.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hop on the bench and shout over to the showers. ­“Melanie!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What?” Melanie yells back. She sticks her head out of a shower curtain. Soap slips down her copper hair and onto her thick, freckled shoulders.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Can you tutor Katie next week after practice?” I ask. “She can’t play the homecoming game unless she passes a trigonometry test on Friday.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMelanie rolls her eyes and disappears back behind the shower curtain. I grin down at Katie. When it comes to Melanie, no means Hell no and silence means Fine, but you’re a pain in my ass. Which is technically still a yes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie takes hold of her phone. “You think this will work?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Definitely,” I say. “Melanie’s a math genius. And as long as Gloria sees that you’re trying, she’ll make sure you’re in the game.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thanks, friend.” Katie smooshes her head into my shoulder. She pulls back and looks at me. “You smell super sweaty.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah, and hugging you is like hugging a wet sponge.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe flips her hair into my face and we both laugh.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie dresses next to me while I continue to remove the last of my gear. Our teammates leave in twos and threes, drifting out the door until there are only a few of us left.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJust as I get down to an undershirt and shorts, Katie slams her locker closed and slings her bag over a shoulder.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You seeing Caleb, or you want me to wait?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Um . . . no need to wait,” I say with a cheesy grin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie smiles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Have fun, lovebirds!” she sings as she disappears down the hall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe door closes and I sigh, then turn for the showers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe truth is, I’m not meeting Caleb anywhere. He and I don’t really hang out beyond breaks at school or the occasional hookup in his truck. But Katie’s the type of friend who will talk over the shower curtain the entire time I’m scrubbing down, and let’s face it: sometimes getting the sweat and grime off everywhere requires a little more privacy than having an incredibly energetic best friend affords.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI latch my stall closed and hang up my towel, praying there’s at least a tiny bit of hot water left as I reach for the faucet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the water’s cold as fuck. As usual.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGoose bumps rise on my arms and legs as I slap soap all over my body. I can hear the few remaining teammates blow-­dry their hair, laugh over inside jokes as they get dressed, slam their lockers closed, and burst out the side door. The steady slowness drifts back into the locker room, settling around me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s a calm I get from being the very last one out. Some­times it seems like every other member of the team is always spinning around, freaking out over school or practice or flaky boyfriends or clingy girlfriends. But I get to stand in the center of the hurricane, helping everyone else stay on track. It’s nice to have that kind of role on the team. Whenever I’m on the field, or even in the locker room, I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. That I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe water finally gets too cold to stand, and I switch the showerhead off. I hang back in the stall, wringing my hair out, when two voices slowly rise from over by the sinks. It’s August and Jade, two juniors the rest of the team nicknamed The Twins when they first started back as freshies. Technically they don’t look like twins at all. Jade has dark brown skin, whereas August is white, and ridiculously pale. But the two spend so much time together, they might as well be conjoined.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Did you hear about Van Darian’s new forward?” August asks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh yeah . . .” Jade’s voice trails off. “That’s the professional recruit, right?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI freeze, still halfway hunched under my towel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eProfessional recruit?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Uh-­huh,” August says. “I heard they got her from the Southwest. Paid her to move here and everything. She’s scored every Van Darian goal so far this season.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJade laughs. “Which is, what, like, three goals?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nine,” August says.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy breath hitches.","brand":"Delacorte Romance","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301514498277,"sku":"NP9780593898451","price":12.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593898451.jpg?v=1767721330","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/alls-fair-in-love-and-field-hockey-isbn-9780593898451","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}