She wished she could go back to sleep. After four more days of practice, she hadn’t gotten her head on as straight as Coach wanted. Nor was she any closer to answering Peyton’s “fearless” question. Was she willing to reinjure her knee for the sake of playing soccer? She’d thought about it every time Raven ran toward her in drills. Groaning sleepily, Lacy rolled from her back onto her side. Her eyes opened. A dress she hadn’t seen before was draped over her easy chair. Her mother must have sneaked it in the night before, while Lacy was asleep. A matching hat rested on the seat cushion, and a pair of shoes lay on the floor. “Oh, no,” Lacy muttered. “The luncheon.” She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to make a decision, right then, that morning—the Belle League or soccer. From what little she knew about the Belle League, it included the social elite of Fraser. They were dedicated to community service, gossip, and marrying off their youngest members to the most eligible Fraser bachelors.
