Bayley Albrecht’s dream is to play soccer on BYU’s South Field. When she is invited to soccer camp the summer before her senior year in high school, she just knows she’s one step closer to her dream. Things get even better when she meets Matt Macauley, the star of the men’s soccer team. When they decide to write each other while Matt is on his mission, Bayley figures her life can’t get any better. But it certainly can get worse . . .

After she receives a minor concussion from playing soccer, Bayley discovers she had a disease called alopecia which causes her to lose her hair. As Bayley struggles to deal with the reality of her baldness she finds herself having to make some tough decisions. Can she still play soccer? Does she even want to? More importantly, should she tell Matt? And will he still want her when she does? Becoming Bayley is the story of one girl’s journey through self-discovery, of the definition of true love, and of the realization that as a daughter of God, she is of infinite worth.

I smacked her hand away. “Knock it off,” I growled, as I
went back to folding my favorite old jersey.

“Just a little makes all the difference.” My little sister,
Fin, leaned in again, the ball of her shimmering pink lip gloss only inches
from my mouth.

I dodged it and laid the shirt into my duffel.

“Come on. You’ll be the only girl there who doesn’t wear
makeup.”

“I’m going to soccer camp, not EFY, which means I’ll be
playing soccer. Sweating and running
and kicking trash. All that mess would melt right off my face. Besides, I have
bigger things to worry about.”

“Sadie says there are boys at camp,” she sang as she flipped
her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Maybe your future husband will be
there, and he won’t even notice you because you’ll be so ordinary.”

It was such a Fin thing to say. She was always thinking she
was going to meet her eternal companion everywhere she went, even though she
was only fourteen. She wouldn’t even walk to the end of the driveway unless she
was glammed up.

I caught her stuffing a tube of waterproof mascara into the
front pocket of my bag. Apparently I wasn’t being clear enough. I unearthed it.
It hit the wall with a nice bang.

“Mom!” she yelled
toward the hall. “Bayley threw my makeup!”

“Bayley Agnes Albrecht!” Mom
yelled. I cringed at my middle name. “You knock it off, right now. You’re
supposed to be in bed.”

“I’d have been asleep twenty minutes ago, but she keeps
trying to give me a makeover. Can you please tell her to back off?” Fin glared.
I gave her a tooth-glinting grin.

“Get in bed, Finley!” Mom called from downstairs. She was on
the couch, finishing a crossword puzzle. “Dad expects you ready at six a.m.”

Fin’s hair bounced as she raced to the balcony. “Dad said I
could go with you guys.”

“I don’t know, sweetie. It’s up to Bayley.”

I headed for the balcony too. We’d already made this
decision. Leave it to Fin to play Mom and Dad against each other. I leaned my
head over the railing. “No,” was all I said.

“Why not?” Fin snapped back, her green eyes flashing.

I looked down at Mom. “You promised it would just be us.”

“I know,” Mom said. “But it will be really boring for her.
She’ll be on the road all day in that hot truck.”

“And Dad doesn’t listen to cool music like you,” Fin said,
batting her long mascara-coated lashes at me.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Chase and I had both
spent hours riding in Old Blue—Dad’s 1972 International—hauling
cattle and sheep. “Then she’s paying her dues.”

Fin opened her mouth to protest.

“No,” I said again before striding back to my room.

Fin followed me, shutting my bedroom door behind her so Mom
couldn’t hear.

“Why not?” That was Fin’s main tactic in life—wear
people down until she got her way. It worked with my parents but not with me.

I packed a spare pair of pajamas on top. “I just want a
quiet drive down to BYU, and I won’t get that with you in the car.”

“If Chase were here, he’d let me go.”

“No. He wouldn’t.” I kept packing. Actually, maybe he would.
He had more patience with our sister’s antics than I did. But since he was
currently in Brazil, and would be for another year, I felt justified in
answering for him.

Her fists balled up. Her nostrils were flaring; wait for it,
wait for it . . . Mt. Finsuvius erupted on a daily
basis. “I wish . . . I wish you weren’t even my sister!” She ran from the room.
Her bedroom door slammed shut.

“Bayley,” Mom said.

I didn’t need to walk to the balcony. I could already see
her eyebrows puckered up, her lips pursed. She was good with the guilt. I
gritted my teeth as I headed to Fin’s room. My fist froze halfway to her door.
Why did I always have to be the one to give in? Why did Fin always win? I’d
saved up for months to pay for camp, and I wanted it exactly how I wanted it.
And that started with a quiet drive to campus, just Mom and me, which wouldn’t
happen if I had to listen to Fin and her boy chatter all the way there.
Besides, it wasn’t going to kill her to spend a little time with Dad. And it
wouldn’t hurt for the two of us to take a break from each other.

I went back to my room and finished packing.

* * * * *

I only wanted two things from my BYU soccer camp experience.
First, I needed Natalie Myer, BYU women’s head coach, to see me play. Like
really play. She’d seen some of my videos from tournament games, but never in
person.

Actually, that’s not the whole truth. I didn’t just want her
to see me play, what I really wanted was for
Coach Myer to offer me a spot on the team for the fall season of my freshman
year—a mere fourteen months away. Time was ticking. I needed this thing
in the bag.

My second hope for this week was simple: to play on South
Field.

South Field was my dream.

When I got there I would walk to midfield, take a deep
breath, and kick the ball dead into the goal—the one directly in front of
Y Mountain.

If I could do those two things then emptying my savings
would be well worth it.

“You’ll be fine?” Mom asked for the fifth time as she put
the car in park. I didn’t need her walking me to my dorm room. She’d hovered
enough at registration.

“Yes.”

“Because I can stay if you need me to. We can get a
hotel—”

“No.” I shook my head. “You need to get back. Who knows what
shape Dad would be in if you left him alone with Fin all week?” I reached over
and squeezed her hand. “Besides, I’ll be getting the whole experience this way,
right?”

“Right.” She nodded. She reached across the console of our
twenty-year-old Volkswagen Passat Diesel and gave me a tight squeeze. “Don’t be
a loner. You’re just as good as any of these girls.”

“I know, Mom,” I said with a sigh.

She held her hands up. “I’m just saying. Don’t be
intimidated. You don’t have to play club or travel to be good.”

I knew that. I spent more time than any girl I knew handling
the ball. Everywhere I went, there was a soccer ball attached to my foot.
Feeding the sheep, watering the cows, running up the mountain—it didn’t
matter, I was dribbling away.

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I know you will. You can do anything. You’re my amazing
girl.” She took my cheeks between her hands and looked into my eyes. “You are.
But Fin is, too. Sisters make the best friends. Give her a chance.” She’d
probably been saving that the entire drive down, waiting for the right moment
to give that little push.

She dropped her hands as I groaned. “She’s just so . . .”

“You’re two very different people. I understand that. And I
don’t want to nag you. But I would like you to take a little time this week to
think about what you can do to improve your relationship.”

I nodded, thankful it was a short lecture. “I love you,” I
said with a smile.

“Love you too, Bayley girl,” she
said as she brushed her lips against the tip of my nose.

I stepped out of the car and threw my duffel strap over my
shoulder. The Passat rumbled off into the distance. This is just like glorified Youth Conference, only we’re playing
soccer. I looked at the building in front of me. So this was it. Helaman Halls. I’d been to BYU plenty of times. It was
where both of my parents attended college. Dad made sure we stopped by whenever
we had the chance, but I’d never stayed on campus. The brick building in front
of me looked harmless enough. Out of date, but harmless.

My first order of business was to drop off my belongings.
Maybe I would meet my roommate. I headed inside and down the hall to my door. I
groaned. It sounded like somebody was having a party in my room—squealing
and laughing. I hated squealing. I got enough of that at home. Besides, I’d
just been told I was only rooming with one other girl. Why could I hear
multiples? I slid my key in the lock and turned. When the door opened, two
girls were so giddy over something on the computer screen that they didn’t even
notice me.

“He’s really cute,” a tall blonde said pointing to the
laptop. The short, squatty brunette next to her widened her eyes and wiggled
her brows. I leaned my suitcase against the couch and walked over to see what
all the fuss was about. Their hair was blocking the screen.

“What are you guys looking at?” I asked. Might as well jump
right in.

“You must be my roommate,” another girl on the couch said. I
hadn’t even noticed her there, she was so quiet. She marked the spot in the
book she’d been reading. She
laid it down and smiled. “We were waiting for you.”

That was a nice gesture. “I’m Bayley,”
I said as I extended my hand.

“India,” she said, which was kind of ironic since she was at
least half-Asian and not at all Indian. She offered me her fist. I stared at it
for a second. The blonde demonstrated, bumping their knuckles together. When
they pulled back, their fingers burst open, stretching wide as they made a
sizzling sound. I watched, slightly bewildered. Was I supposed to understand
what just happened?

“It’s our team handshake,” India said with a shrug.

My eyes skittered between them. “You all know each other?”
Great. Just what I needed. To be a fourth wheel . . . er . . . you know what I mean.

“Yeah. But no worries,” the blonde said. “We’re stoked
you’re here. I’m Jane by the way. We hail from the land of the Sun.”

“Arizona?”

“No, Vegas. I’m Rachel,” the brunette said. “Where you
from?”

“Wyoming.”

Jane snapped and pointed at me. “My brother goes to the U.
He drives up there to get all his—”

“Fireworks. Right.” Everyone from Utah thought they were
comfortably acquainted with Wyoming if they ever went to Evanston, which was at
the very southwest corner. “I’m from Star Valley. Up by Jackson Hole.”

Rachel sighed as her eyes turned dreamy. “We went there for
Thanksgiving two years ago. It’s so pretty.”

I nodded. That was the other thing people always said about
Wyoming. The ones who’d been past Evanston. Either
that or they complained about the cold.

Rachel’s eyes were taking in my ponytail. “I’ve seen that
color before, but never on hair.”

I blinked. I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or an
insult.

“It’s called red,” Jane said.

I held a fistful up to inspect in case it had changed in the
last fifteen minutes. “I know. I totally hate it.”

Rachel opened her mouth to respond but just then the door
creaked and a college-aged girl peered around. Must be the resident assistant. “You better high-tail it, girls.
You’ve only got fifteen minutes to get to orientation on the other side of
campus.”

The squealing started up again. While India searched for a
rubber band for her hair, Jane and Rachel chose to spend their time slapping on
another layer of lip gloss. Maybe these girls thought they were going to meet
their future husband, just like Fin. I tightened my shoelaces and straightened
my shin guards, killing time. I was more than ready to go. I even had my bottle
of cold, mountain water.

I remained silent as we walked; their banter filled the air.
It only took two seconds to realize the thing that had captured their attention
back in the apartment was the interactive BYU men’s soccer roster. They’d been
scoping out which guys were single. These girls were not for real. I was here
for one reason and one reason only. To play some soccer, and, like I said, to
get noticed by the right people. Okay, that was two reasons. Whatever.

When we got to the Wilkinson Center, Rachel made us cut
through the building. She grabbed a pack of Wrigley’s off the shelf. “I play
better when I chew.”

I flipped my watch over. 9:54. “I’m going to head on over.
I’ll see you guys there.”

“You’re not supposed to walk around campus alone,” Rachel
reminded me. “You signed an agreement before coming, right?” So I waited.

The line in the Twilight Zone—the mini-mart area of
the building—was too long. I huffed and sighed a lot, hoping to speed
things up. I couldn’t believe we were risking being late for a pack of gum.
Once the gum was paid for we only had a minute and thirty seconds to make it
across campus and down The Stairs of Death. I’d studied the schedule and campus
map enough to know we weren’t going to make it. I didn’t care if we were
hardcore athletes.

We made it to the indoor soccer field at 10:02 and that was
after sprinting. I was praying that the coaches would start a minute or so
late. No such luck. Rachel and Jane were giggling when they pulled the door
open. A hundred pair of eyes turned to look at us. My cheeks flushed, even
though I willed them not to.

“Ladies,” the men’s coach said. I recognized him from BYUtv. His eyes were friendly, but held a warning. I
slipped to the back of the group, wishing I could evaporate. He was going over
the rules.

“No trash-talking. No shoving. No wandering off to other
groups. No walking around campus alone—” Rachel shot me a smug look. I
rolled my eyes. “And no gum.” I had to fight the urge to smile. Rachel looked
embarrassed, searching for somewhere to put the wad in her mouth. Jane pounded
her on the back. Rachel choked and gulped. India, who was standing next to me,
laughed under her breath.

“All right!” Coach Chadwick clapped. “Who’s ready to meet
your instructors?” A loud cry went up, and I cheered with them. It looked like
we were getting right down to business.

“Girls.” His eyes scanned the crowd. “You’ll be working with
the women’s team.” Rachel and Jane groaned along with some others. The men’s
team found that funny. What did they expect? That the coaches would be dumb
enough to let a bunch of teenage girls within a hundred feet of the men? Yeah.
Not happening.

My hero, Coach Myer, stepped forward. I’d seen her on TV and
had even caught a glimpse at the home game Dad took me to last year. I couldn’t
wait to get to know her. I listened carefully as she introduced her team. I’d
already put names with most of the faces because of all the games I’d seen.
Coach Myer told us which players we would be with. I was satisfied being in
Katie Taggert’s group. She was a starting midfielder.
I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Maybe she could give me some tips on how
to bend the ball. That was something I was having a hard time mastering.

We stood back and watched as Coach Chadwick introduced his
guys—the BYU men’s team. Jane and Rachel’s tongues were hanging out of
their mouths. India scooted closer to me. I looked over at her, my forehead
crunched. Did this girl have no concept of personal space? Her expression was
confused just like mine. Her eyes moved to the left, like they were leading me
somewhere. I glanced that way, but I wasn’t sure what it was I supposed to be
looking at. Finally, she whispered, “Who is that kid and why is he looking at
you like that?”

I followed her gaze more closely this time. I groaned.
Great. Just great. Willa Sixx’s little brother was
here. Tyler.

Some kids grow up with imaginary friends. I had a nemesis.
But she wasn’t imaginary. Oh, no. She was very real and very much alive. And
she thrived on making me miserable whenever she was around. Our teams competed
for the first time when I was thirteen. By the time she walked off that field
she hated me, and she had ever since. She would always get in a jab or a hair
tug when the ref wasn’t watching. Last season she’d written an insulting word
in the dust of my car. I’m not even sure how or why this rivalry started, all I
knew was that it had. And it was a family affair. Tyler made sure to make Fin
miserable when she was in the stands watching one of our face-offs.

The way he glared at me was almost comical. The kid was a
pipsqueak, probably one of the youngest at camp. A short
stick with a big mouth. Of all the rotten luck, to end
up here the same week as a Sixx. What were the
chances?

I realized India was waiting for an answer. I shrugged.
“Just this annoying, little twerp from Green River. His sister hates me.”

India glared at him and his eyes skittered away. “That’ll
add a little spice to our week. Can he play?”

“Maybe. If he could stop talking long
enough to focus.”

“And that’s it,” Coach Chadwick called. “Let’s break up into
our groups and get to work.”

“Be careful,” India mouthed with wide eyes. It made me
laugh.

I was almost to my group when Tyler bumped into me. He
covered his braces with his hand and laughed. “Oh, wait until I tell Willa.
She’s going to be so mad she didn’t come.”

What I really wanted was to trip Tyler. It wouldn’t be hard.
His shoelace was untied. But I’d learned from experience that the worst thing I
could do was acknowledge his existence. I looked straight ahead like he was
invisible.

“I can’t believe you’d actually want anyone to see you play
in public,” he said. Yeah. Because I
can’t play, right? Just like my team didn’t beat your sister in districts last
year. I bit the inside of my cheeks. Lucky for him, his instructor was
waving him over. Tyler bumped me again and I had to fight the urge to shove all
ninety pounds of him to the ground. I didn’t want to get kicked out the first
day.

“Don’t embarrass yourself too bad this week, Red,” he called
over his shoulder.

Mental eye roll.

When I got to my group, Katie was peppy and full of
enthusiasm. She glanced around. “Are we all here?” We nodded. “Follow me.” Her
blonde curls reminded me of a fluffy cumulus cloud. I glanced back to see Tyler
heading off with his group. I shook the kinks out of my neck and legs and
closed my eyes in an attempt to recalibrate my focus.

South Field. South
Field, I
chanted, pumping myself up. Because this was it. The
moment I’d been waiting for . . . forever. Well, as long as I could remember. I
followed my group out into the sunlight. My vision spotted over so I closed my
eyes. I could hear the busyness of the town, the students hustling by, cars out on University Avenue. The breeze lifted a stray
tendril off my neck. I followed my group down the sidewalk, and that’s when I
realized we were heading the wrong way. South Field stadium was . . . well . .
. to the south. And we were going west. I didn’t need a compass to tell me
that.

“Hey,” I called to Katie. “Where are we going?” I pointed to
the field of my utmost dreams.

She gave me an amused smile. “South Field is only used for
games.” She nodded to an ordinary field across the street. “You guys get to use
the practice fields.”

Ugh. Sucker punched.