GOING WILD
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L I S A McM ANN
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
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Going Wild Text copyright © 2016 by HarperCollins Publishers Illustrations copyright © 2016 by Brandon Dorman All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY10007. www.harpercollinschildrens.com Library of Congress ControlNumber: 2016936328 ISBN 978-0-06-233714-6 (trade bdg.) Typography by Sarah Creech 16 17 18 19 20 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 ❖ First Edition
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To the real Maria Torres . . . and secret superheroes everywhere
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C HAPTER 1:
Breaking and Entering
It was a moonless winter night when a stealthy man in a long black trench coat inched through the aisles of a dark laboratory. He didn’t need much light since he knew the place well—he’d be able to tell by feel when he found what he was looking for. When he came upon a glass case, he thrust a metal pick into the lock and turned it. The lock clicked, and the man slid the door aside. A shrill alarm pierced the air, and the man cursed under his breath. He lunged for the contents, blindly grabbing what he could from inside and dashing for the door. He ran through the hallway and flew down the stairs, coattails flapping, all the way to the ground floor and into the night. The alarm was just as loud outside. The man heard sirens in the distance and fled down the sidewalk into the darkness. As he rounded the corner and ran under a streetlight, he glanced at the items he clutched. He grimaced, frustrated that he’d only managed to grab two of the devices he’d wanted: his own and one other. But the alarm on the glass case had been unexpected. There hadn’t been one in the past. Dr. Gray must be growing paranoid, he thought.
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He heard footsteps behind him, and his heart jumped into his throat. A figure in a sleek bodysuit came speeding toward him and lunged for his feet, managing to shred his pant leg with razor-sharp fingernails. The man tripped but kept going as a second figure appeared in front of him. It screeched and jumped up in the air like an acrobat, pushed off against a building, and landed on him. “Oof!” cried the man as he went down. He slammed his hand into the attacker’s face, then scrambled to his feet and stumbled onward, still clutching the precious items. With lungs burning, the man glanced over his shoulder as the sirens grew louder. The two figures gave chase again. The man ran full throttle through the shadows of the inner city and ducked down an alley. He ran toward a grouping of trash cans, breathing hard and trying not to make any noise. A woman stepped out of the shadows. The man slowed. He couldn’t speak. “I suppose you did that,” she muttered, indicating the sirens. The man nodded. “Sorry,” he gasped. He handed her one of the items and kept his own, and dashed away, not waiting to hear her reply. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw her climbing up a fire escape and disappearing over the edge of a roof. He could hear the footsteps of the two attackers in the distance. Soon the man came upon a lone vehicle parked alongside the curb. He wrenched the door open and got in, and sped off into the night. 2
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•
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•
Thirty minutes later, the man pulled into a parking spot on the top level of the airport parking garage. He looked all around and expelled a relieved breath, then dabbed the sweat from his forehead and smoothed his hair. He checked the rips in his pant leg for blood and wiped his ankle clean. Satisfied, the man reached for his passport and overnight bag, and opened the car door. Tires squealed. An SUV skidded wildly into view. Three figures in full bodysuits, like the ones the man had escaped from earlier, burst out and rushed at him. Before he could yell for help or lock himself inside the car, the figures grabbed him and ripped the device from his hands. Then they bound his wrists, shoved a cloth in his mouth, and tossed him into the back of their SUV. A moment later, they were off.
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C HAPTER 2
The Package
Charlie Wilde let the front door slam behind her and shuffled listlessly to the living room for the last box. She gave a fleeting look around the empty house and sighed. The Wildes’ cats, Big Kitty and Fat Princess, warily circled and sniffed at two pet carriers on the floor. Their dog, Jessie, whined and paced anxiously at the window. “I feel you,” said Charlie. “Believe me.” Charlie’s younger brother, Andy, followed her in, carelessly dragging snow across the carpet. Without a word the kids lifted the box and carried it out of the house together. The door slammed again, and the children waited at the back of the moving truck for their mom to grab the box from them. All around, the noises of the city went on as if everything was normal: honking horns, waves of music from passing cars, and the occasional siren. But things were far from normal for Charlie. When her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, she balanced her end of the box with one hand and reached for it. It was a text message from Charlie’s best friend, Amari, consisting of two emojis: a sad face with a teardrop and a green moving truck.
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Charlie used her thumb to reply with a row of sobbing girl faces. Andy, who was ten, grew bored waiting for their mother and started smacking the heel of his boot into the ice on the driveway to see if he could make a hole. After one particularly hard kick, he accidentally dropped his end of the box. The lid slipped off, and a couple of coffee mugs spilled out onto the ice. Charlie sighed and lowered her end of the box to the ground. It had been a long, cold morning. Now that the house was empty and she’d said good-bye to her friends, she just wanted to get moving. A blue car slowly passed by, the driver peering out the window like she was searching for an address. The car kept going, and Charlie turned back to Andy, who was just standing there. “What are you waiting for? Pick up that stuff,” she said. “And quit messing around.” “You quit,” muttered Andy. He dropped to his haunches and pulled off his gloves. Charlie’s mom poked her head out from the moving truck. “Any more boxes?” Charlie frowned and stared stonily at the driveway. “This is the last one,” Andy said. He chucked the coffee mugs into the box and smashed down the lid. “Impressive,” Charlie said sarcastically. She helped him lift the box up to their mom, who put it on top of a stack and shoved a sleeping bag next to it to keep it in place. They could hear their 5
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dad grunting from inside the truck as he tightened the straps that would hold the fragile stuff in place for the seventeen-hundredmile journey, taking them from the awesome city limits of Chicago to what Charlie called Absolutely Nowhere, Arizona. “Almost done,” their father called out. “Load up the warm bodies and we’re out of here.” “Okay, kids,” their mother said, “crate the cats and grab Jessie. We’ll put them in the car with me. You two ride in the moving truck with Dad.” She jumped out onto the driveway. “We’ll know soon enough how well this’ll work—I’ll spare you the meowing and the puking for the first few hours, at least,” she said with a wry smile. All three pets had been rescues with unknown pasts, but the animals had one thing in common: they hated riding in the car. Jessie got carsick if she moved around too much, and Big Kitty was especially skittish and had an earsplitting, banshee-like meowl whenever she wasn’t enjoying herself. Fat Princess chewed on things when she was anxious. Andy darted inside, and Mom gave Charlie’s shoulder a squeeze as she passed. Charlie pulled away. She could hardly believe this was it—their last moments in their beloved house. As Charlie lagged after them, she saw the blue car coming back this way just as slowly as before. She hesitated at the door to watch it. But a second later Andy began hollering from inside. The cats were clearly not cooperating. Charlie went to help. Ten minutes and several scratches later, the cats were 6
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successfully enclosed in their crates. Charlie and Andy each carried one out to the Subaru. While Charlie carefully loaded them into the backseat and secured them with seat belts, Andy opened the hatch for the dog. He unfolded the waterproof sheet they kept back there and spread it out in case of an unfortunate barfing incident. “I’ll get Jessie,” Charlie told him once the cats were loaded. As she jogged back to the house, she saw a small package propped up next to the door. “Where did this come from?” she murmured. She picked it up and looked around, but saw no one. “Is this yours?” Charlie called to her dad, holding it up. Her father appeared at the back of the moving truck and started lowering the roll-up door. “I don’t know,” he said, hopping out and continuing to pull it downward, “but anything that doesn’t make it in here in the next two seconds has to ride on your lap for three days.” “Eep!” Charlie tossed the package into the back of the truck, just making it. “First goal of the spring season,” her dad remarked as he slammed the door closed and latched it. “Nice shot.” “Yeah,” Charlie said, but it came out halfhearted. Her stomach hitched as everything about moving away suddenly became so immediate. The truck was loaded, the house empty. She’d never play soccer with Amari or her other friends again. At least I’ll be able to play soon, Charlie thought. If there was 7
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one nice thing about having to move so far away, it was that her new school in Navarro Junction had a sixth-grade girls’ spring soccer team, and tryouts were next Thursday. But Charlie would give that up in a heartbeat if she could just stay in Chicago. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Have you got Jessie?” her dad asked, and started toward the driver’s door. “I’m getting her,” Charlie said, her eyes flying open again. She darted into the house, past her mother, who was grabbing snack bags from the kitchen counter. Charlie took Jessie by the leash and rested her hand on the dog’s head, trying to calm her. She looked around one last time, letting another sigh escape. “Charlie,” her mom called, the click of her boots echoing in the hallway as she walked toward the door. “We’re ready! Time to go.” Charlie felt a wave of anxiety, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Just give me a second to say good-bye to my house!” she yelled back with more attitude than she probably should have had. But she couldn’t help it. Didn’t her mother understand what she was doing to her? Charlie had lived in this house since the day her parents brought her home from the hospital. Her whole life was here. And now everything was falling apart.
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C HAPTER 3
Starting Over
The Wildes rolled into Navarro Junction on Friday afternoon, just in time to get a quick tour of Andy’s and Charlie’s schools. When they moved into their new house on Saturday, they got everything unloaded into the garage and their beds and desks set up, and that was about all they could manage before they collapsed. On Sunday Charlie stood in the garage and stared at the stacks and stacks of boxes that still needed unpacking. She wondered idly where her soccer stuff was, but looking for it seemed like an overwhelming task. Besides, her thoughts were consumed with having to start school in this strange place. It made her stomach hurt to think about it. She turned away from the mess and instead took in the neighborhood. All the homes had stucco siding and ceramic-tiled roofs, which reminded her of gingerbread houses. The street was quiet, and there was no one outside that she could see. She went to the screen door and called inside, “I’m going for a walk!” “That’s great, honey!” came her mother’s overly cheerful reply.
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Charlie frowned at her mom’s enthusiasm—after all, it was her fault they had to move—and ventured down the driveway to the sidewalk. It was weird taking a stroll in such an unfamiliar place and thinking at the same time, This is where I live now. She slipped her hands into her hoodie’s pouch pocket and clutched her cell phone. It made her feel better, somehow, to know that Amari was just a text message away. Charlie took a photo of her house and sent it to her, then kept walking. It was quiet compared to her old neighborhood. There were no skyscrapers here, no honking horns or random sirens at all hours of the day and night. No businesspeople rushing down the sidewalk to work or to get in line at the coffee shop, or to catch the train like Charlie often did. That had been an adventure every day. Life was happening everywhere all the time at a breakneck pace, and a kid had to be quick to keep up. Of course Charlie had to be cautious when she was out alone in the city, but her parents had made her and Andy take self-defense and safety courses at the Y since they were little. And because her mom was an ER doctor, Charlie even knew CPR—you never knew when that could come in handy. By the age of twelve she’d been able to handle just about anything, but if she’d ever needed help, her stay-at-home dad had always been available by phone. Now, walking through her new neighborhood with its strange stone-covered yards, cacti, and flowers blooming in February, Charlie felt uneasy and unsure about what to do with herself. It 10
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was too calm here. If she were back home, she could meet up with her friends or take the “L” train somewhere exciting. But here there wasn’t much of anything going on—not that she knew of, anyway. Her mind returned to school and the quick tour they’d taken in and out of a jumble of small buildings. She began to worry about getting lost or finding a place to sit at lunch tomorrow. Charlie picked up her pace, always expecting to see tall buildings around the next curve in the road but never finding them. Navarro Junction was an hour’s drive from Phoenix, plopped down in a valley in the Sonoran Desert. There weren’t many trees, but mountains surrounded them. When their Realtor had handed Charlie’s parents the keys to their new house, he’d joked that the schoolkids always knew which way was home based on which mountain range they were looking at. Charlie hadn’t understood why it was funny. Didn’t kids here memorize street names? In Chicago, the president streets went east-west. If you got lost, you just walked until you hit one and figured out your way home from there. Charlie squinted against a sudden squall so she wouldn’t get dirt in her eyes and flipped her hood over her head. She jogged across the street and saw a tiny children’s play area between two houses, surrounded by stones. A couple of giant saguaro cacti stood in one corner. Charlie knew what kind they were because, on the long drive, their father, a biologist, had talked about how different the plant and animal life would be in their new home. The 11
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saguaros were the tall ones often pictured in postcards of sunsets and cowboys and ghost towns, their prickly arms pointing out and up to the sky. Charlie looked at them, puzzled. Who would put something so prickly near a kids’ play area? It didn’t make sense. Charlie’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She stopped walking and pulled it out, smiling when she saw that Amari had sent a photo in return. Charlie looked closely and realized it was a photo of Charlie’s old house, with snow falling all around. “Bet you’re a lot warmer over there!” Charlie’s eyes teared up. Amari had gone out in the cold and snow to do that for her. She longed for her friend. “I miss you,” Charlie replied. “And snow.” “Seriously, don’t miss snow,” wrote Amari. “Totally overrated.” “Haha,” wrote Charlie, though she was far from laughing. There was so much she wanted to say to Amari about how different it was and how sad she felt, but trying to find the words was too painful. Instead she typed, “I should have given you my new snow boots.” There was definitely no need for the new boots Charlie had gotten for her birthday last fall. That was before Mom dropped the bomb about moving. “You’ll need them when you visit,” replied Amari. “Or when you go skiing in the mountains! Lucky.” “I suppose,” Charlie wrote. 12
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“Are you moved in?” “Not really. Everything’s a mess. Big Kitty freaked out and hid behind the stove. She hasn’t come out yet.” “Oh no! She’ll feel better soon,” wrote Amari. “And she’ll come out when she gets hungry enough.” “Yeah, I hope so. Thanks.” There was a pause, and then Amari replied, “Hang in there!” with a brightly smiling emoji. Charlie’s eyes lingered on the screen, but she couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, and then she shoved the phone back into her pocket and continued walking, making a loop that she hoped would bring her back to her house. She passed a large grassy area, noting it would be a good place to kick a soccer ball around, and turned down her street. Charlie scanned the driveways looking for their Subaru, but she didn’t see it, and for a frantic moment Charlie couldn’t remember which house was hers. Why would anybody want houses to all look the same? Finally Charlie spotted the right house number. She headed up the driveway just as her dad pulled in and parked. “Help me with the groceries?” he asked, getting out. Charlie shrugged. “Sure.” Charlie’s father, Charles Wilde, was tall and lean and wore glasses, and she was named after him. Amari had once told him 13
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that he looked exactly like a scientist was supposed to look, which had made him laugh, though to Charlie he just looked like a dad. Technically he was a doctor, like Charlie’s mom, but he often joked that he was only the PhD kind, which didn’t count for squat most of the time. And he hadn’t actually worked as a scientist in years, so it was a little weird for Charlie to think of him as one. That was about to change, too. They brought everything inside and began putting things away in the empty refrigerator and pantry. Charlie’s mother flew past them, car keys jangling. “I’m running into work for a couple of hours,” she said, her face lit up. “They’ve got paperwork for me, and one of the doctors called in sick, so I guess I’m jumping right into the fray.” She grinned. “I don’t know when I’ll be home— don’t hold dinner.” “Good luck!” said Charlie’s dad, swooping in to give her a kiss before she rushed off. Charlie didn’t say anything. Soon they heard the car pulling out of the driveway. “I thought she wasn’t starting until tomorrow,” said Charlie. “Yeah, me too,” said her father. “But we knew it would be a little hectic once we got here.” Charlie looked around for a bowl to put some fresh lemons and limes in, but there wasn’t one. She lined them up in a row on the counter instead. “So,” Charlie’s dad said, putting milk in the refrigerator, “did 14
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you take a walk around the neighborhood?” “Yep,” said Charlie. “What did you think?” Charlie rolled her eyes at the pantry shelves. “Boring.” Charlie’s dad stopped what he was doing and came over to the pantry doorway. He studied his daughter. “Do you want to talk about it?” “Talk about how boring it is?” Charlie said with an edge to her voice. “No thanks.” Her father pressed his lips together, and Charlie knew she’d gone too far, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to be here. Final answer. “Look,” said Dad, “I know this is hard on you. But Mom had a great opportunity, and we just couldn’t—” “Just couldn’t pass it up,” said Charlie. “I know.” She’d heard that line a thousand times. “But that doesn’t make me happy about it.” She brought some items to the pantry and pushed them around on the shelves, trying to make it look like what they’d had back home in Chicago. Her eyes stung. “Aw, kiddo.” He put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “It’ll get better. I promise.” Charlie doubted it. “Maybe for you and Mom. But not for me.” She pushed past her father and blindly unloaded the rest of the groceries onto the counter, opening cupboard doors and closing them again, feeling completely lost as to where to put things. Then she 15
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gathered up the empty bags, trying to figure out how to recycle them when they didn’t even have a recycling bin yet. She smashed them together into a big ball. “This house is so stupid,” she said bitterly. Dad glanced sharply at Charlie, then his face grew sympathetic. But it was clear Charlie needed to blow off steam. “Just put all the cupboard food in the pantry for now and the refrigerator stuff in the refrigerator. We’ll sort it out later.” “Fine,” said Charlie. Charlie’s father eased his way out of the kitchen so Charlie could bang around undisturbed. “I’ll be in my study getting ready for tomorrow,” he said. When the groceries were all put away, Charlie fled to her room. As she lay on her bed, Charlie fumed. She was furious at her mother for making them move here. Dr. Diana Wilde had been offered an amazing job as head of the emergency room at the hospital in Navarro Junction. It was an opportunity she would’ve never had in Chicago—or so she repeated about fifty times a day to all their friends, neighbors, and relatives back home. The ER here was understaffed, and she’d be working a really crazy schedule, but the commute was only ten minutes—and she could even take the bus so they wouldn’t need to buy a second car. She was so pumped up about it that Charlie didn’t think she’d even noticed how unexcited her own daughter was about this “great” opportunity. 16
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And her father was messing things up, too. He accepted a position teaching biology at the nearby community college, filling in the rest of the school year for a professor who was taking a leave of absence. So he was excited to work outside the home again for the first time in a long time. Charlie felt like all her lifelines were being taken away at once. After a while of moping, Charlie heard Andy and her father talking, but she couldn’t make out the words. When curiosity got the best of her, she slid off the bed and found them in her father’s study. Dad was on the floor under his mahogany desk, setting up his computer. Andy was sitting on the desktop, plugging in the speakers. “If you’re teaching tomorrow,” Andy was saying, “who’s bringing us to school?” Charlie leaned against the doorframe, wondering the same thing. “My first class starts at nine. I’ll drop you off on my way. I’ve got time to go inside at both schools, so don’t sweat it.” “That’s okay,” said Charlie coolly. “I’m good.” Dr. Wilde looked up from under the desk. His hair had fallen forward. “All right, suit yourself.” “You’re going in with me,” said Andy. “I don’t know how to get anywhere.” “We took a tour,” said Charlie disdainfully. “How can you not remember?” 17
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“I wasn’t really paying attention. I was looking at the kids.” On Charlie’s tour she’d tried not to make eye contact with anybody—but they were all staring at her. “Well, no wonder, you goof.” But Charlie’s confidence faltered as she tried to remember exactly how her campus was laid out. Everything was muddled. Andy turned back to his dad. “Are you going to be home after school like always?” “These first few days I will—I’ll pick you both up from school until we get the hang of things. After that you’ll ride the bus home sometimes, and Charlie will be able to walk,” said Dr. Wilde. He disappeared under the desk again. “I’m teaching evening classes twice a week, so some days you might come home from school and be alone for a few hours, unless Mom is home. But you two are old enough to handle it.” “Home alone,” said Andy, nodding. “I like it.” Charlie crossed her arms in front of her, a look of consternation on her face. It felt wrong, her father going to work, especially when everything else was so unsettled. Who was going to be home to cook and keep their schedules organized . . . and go to their after-school events? “So I’m stuck babysitting?” she asked. “I don’t need a babysitter,” Andy said. “Besides, you might not be here much either if you make the soccer team. I’ll take care of myself just fine.” He seemed very eager to do so. “It won’t be every day,” said their father. “And it’s only for three months. If I like teaching and it’s working for our family, I 18
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can try to stay on. And if I don’t, I can quit.” “Great,” Charlie said icily. “Can I say the same thing about living here?” Andy scowled at her. “Why are you being so annoying?” Charlie shrugged. “Clearly you wouldn’t understand what it’s like to have friends and a life back home.” “I already have one friend here,” Andy said smugly. “Met him this morning while you were still sleeping. He lives down the street and is letting me use his old longboard until we can unpack mine.” Andy turned back to his dad. “Your job sounds cool, Dad. I’ve always wanted to have the whole house to myself. Does my school end before Charlie’s? I hope so. Hey . . . what exactly is biology again?” Charlie sighed and went to her room.
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C HAPTER 4
First Impressions
Charlie’s school was in walking distance, but she wasn’t sure how to get there yet, so she definitely didn’t mind having her dad drive her, especially the first day. She was so nervous she hadn’t slept well or eaten much breakfast. As they rode along, she stared out the window, ignoring Andy, who chattered like a chipmunk in the backseat. Her dad stopped at her school first. When they pulled up to the drop-off spot by the big Summit Junior High School sign, Charlie’s hands began sweating. She wiped them on her jeans and picked up her backpack. Dr. Wilde leaned sideways so he could kiss her on the head like he’d done every day of her entire school career. Charlie stiffened and pretended not to see. She opened the door and put one foot onto the curb. “Bye.” Her dad blinked, then sat up straight, trying to hide the hurt look on his face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” “Yeah,” Charlie lied. She looked back at Andy. “Good luck, squirt face,” she said. “Don’t get in trouble on your first day.”
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Andy grinned and slapped the back of her seat. “Don’t be annoying on your first day.” Charlie managed a weak smile for his sake. He had to be at least a little nervous too. She got out of the car, then walked slowly to her doom. When she reached the school steps, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Her dad was still sitting there, waiting until she went inside. Charlie felt very alone. It’s not like she had to go in without him—but things were different now. She was twelve, not a baby, and this was junior high. Charlie had seen the campus, and she tried telling herself it was no big deal—her sixth-grade class in Chicago was bigger than this entire school. But now she wavered. This was harder than she’d expected it would be. Everybody else knew each other, and she was alone. Kids were looking at her. She expelled a heavy breath that sent her bangs fluttering in the cool air and tried to focus on something positive, like the upcoming tryouts for the soccer team. Amari, for one, was jealous that Navarro Junction had a spring team. Or at least she pretended to be, which was nice. But this place felt foreign. Half the kids were wearing shorts— in winter. And the layout of the school was really different from the four-story mammoth brick building on the corner of two busy streets back in Chicago. This campus was central to several quiet neighborhoods, and each of the small, separate school buildings 21
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housed a different subject of learning. So there was a building for math, science, language arts, and so on, as well as an auditorium and a library. And while there were outdoor walkways between, there were no huge maple or oak trees standing tall and uprooting the sidewalk like back home. The few trees lining the property here were scraggly and sparse and looked like they were trying to figure out how to grow leaves. Charlie held her head high, climbed the steps, and marched inside, wearing the fake face of confidence she’d often put on when dealing with something scary back in the city. “Let’s get this over with,” she said under her breath, and forged through the crowded hallway toward the office. The school looked new inside, and the walls were free of lockers. On their tour, Charlie had seen clusters of them outside, of all places, between buildings. Clearly students really didn’t have to worry about the weather here. When Charlie reached the office, she paused for a moment, then squared her shoulders and opened the door. A man sat behind a counter studying papers and scribbling on them with a green pen that had a fake sunflower attached to it. He wore a bright yellow button-down shirt, with a silver-and-leather bolo tie around his neck. He looked like he could be in a Western movie. Charlie slid her backpack off her shoulders. It thumped to the floor. “Good morning,” the man drawled in a deep voice. He looked 22
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up from the paper he was writing on. “Um, hi.” Charlie wasn’t sure what say. “What can I do for you, young lady?” “I’m— Hi,” she said again, flustered. “It’s my first day.” She shifted her feet. “I’m new,” she added, though she thought that was becoming pretty obvious by now. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Of course. One second . . .” The man took off his glasses and put one of the stems between his teeth, then flitted through papers on the desk, looking for something. He dropped the drawl. “Ah yes. Welcome, new student. I am Mr. Anderson. And you are . . . C. It’s a C name, right? We’re expecting you, of course.” He grabbed a folder and looked at the sticker in the corner of it. “Charlotte . . . ? Isn’t it?” “Yes. Charlotte Wilde,” she said. “But I go by Charlie.” The eccentric man clasped his hands together. “Of course, Charlie—avoid the spider and pig jokes at all costs, hmm? I don’t blame you. We’re so glad to have you here at Summit. So you’re an actor?” Charlie blinked. “Um, what?” “You like to act? Or are you more of a backstage type? I noticed you’re enrolled in my theater class sixth period.” “Oh—uh, yes, I guess so.” Charlie was confused. The office receptionist was apparently also the theater teacher. She knew this school was a lot smaller than her old one, but this was ridiculous. She started to say that she’d only enrolled in theater class because 23
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she thought it would be easy and her mom figured it was a good way to make friends, but then she realized it would be better not to mention it. “Great!” Mr. Anderson said, energized. “I’ve already chosen a cast for the current musical—Bye Bye Birdie, my favorite!—so you’ll have to be assigned to stage crew. All right?” Charlie smiled weakly. “Sure.” “Lots of after-school opportunities as well,” he said. Charlie grew concerned. “But I might have soccer,” she said. “Don’t worry, it’s optional.” “Oh, okay,” said Charlie, relieved. “One moment,” Mr. Anderson went on. “I’m going to track down your guide for the day.” He rolled his chair sideways to the next station and grabbed the phone. Guide? thought Charlie. She didn’t know what he was talking about. When he hung up, he rolled his chair back to his original spot. “Kelly Parker will be right here—you’ll love her. She has your identical schedule, so she’ll take you around today and have lunch with you and all that jazz.” Charlie let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Okay. That’s—that’s cool.” It was a relief to know she’d have someone to help her. Everything was so much easier when you had friends. Maybe Kelly would be one. While she waited, a couple of kids trickled into the office to 24
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drop off notes and pick up papers from Mr. Anderson. He spoke to all of them in his slightly strange manner, but they seemed to like him. He called some of them “minions.” Charlie decided it was probably because he couldn’t remember their names. Adults did stuff like that a lot. When they left, Mr. Anderson smiled sympathetically at Charlie and leaned across the desk. “You know,” he said in a normal, quieter voice, “there’s only one thing worse than moving halfway across the country and starting at a new school, and that’s moving halfway across the country and starting at a new school in the middle of the school year.” Charlie dropped her gaze. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” she said. She wanted to say it stank, but she didn’t think that would be polite. “Give us a fair shake, though. I think you’ll like it here. A new adventure at every turn.” Charlie wasn’t sure what that meant, but she nodded anyway. “Yes, sir.” He studied her folder, slid some papers into it, and handed it to her. “Here you go. Inside you’ll find your schedule and a map that shows you where your classes are in case you get separated from Kelly. And I’ve circled the location of your locker, right outside this building in the covered walkway. Did you bring a padlock, or do you need to rent one from the school?” Charlie took the folder. “I brought a lock. Thanks.” 25
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“Excellent,” Mr. Anderson said. “I’ll see you in class. We’ll be doing some set building after school later this week and next week over lunchtime if you’d like to help. Lots of kids chip in. It’s not required, but I’m warning you, it’s fun.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ll ask my parents.” Mr. Anderson’s gaze tracked to the door behind Charlie as it opened. “Ah, good,” he said. “Here she is.” Charlie turned. In walked a pretty, athletic-looking girl, a little taller than Charlie. Her blond hair was loosely woven into a French braid around her head. It kind of looked like a crown. “Kelly,” Mr. Anderson said, “this is Charlie Wilde. She’s going to tag along with you today to get the lay of the land.” Kelly gave Charlie a scrutinizing look. “Hi there,” she said. She had a sunny smile on her face, so bright it almost seemed fake. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m glad I get to keep an eye on you today.” “Me too,” Charlie replied tentatively. “Thanks for showing me around.” She wasn’t sure what to think about Kelly’s odd smile. Maybe that’s just how she looks, Charlie thought. She cast a fleeting glance at Mr. Anderson, but he’d put on his glasses and dived into his pile of papers again. So she picked up her backpack and offered Kelly a guarded smile. “Lead the way, I guess,” she said. “Sure. Follow me.” Kelly pushed the door open with her shoulder and went out into the hallway. “Sooo. Charlie, huh?” Charlie took long strides behind her to catch up. She wasn’t really worried about losing sight of Kelly’s crown head in the 26
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crowd, but she didn’t want to take any chances. “Yeah. It’s short for Charlotte. Named after my dad, Charles.” It was an automatic answer. “Named after your dad? That’s weird. Did your parents want a boy or something?” Charlie blinked. “Um, yeah,” she said, a sinking feeling coming over her. “That’s exactly it.” It was going to be a very long day.
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C HAPTER 5
A Very Long Day
Charlie followed Kelly from building to building making small talk, a smile stuck on her face. She knew it was important to make a good impression with the students and teachers, but inside she was dying a little. She wasn’t sure how to act with these kids who all knew each other and had one thing in common: they didn’t know her. Her face hurt from smiling. And from repeating phrases like “Short for Charlotte. Named after my dad, not the spider. No, his name is Charles. Yes, it was a great book. No, I don’t mind that Charlotte dies. It’s integral to the story.” That last line tended to stop the kids’ questions about her name, probably because they didn’t know what integral meant. Kelly was nice to everyone—to their faces, at least. Between classes Kelly breezed through the hallways and across the courtyard, speaking cheerily to the students who seemed to go out of their way to say hi to her. But in between pleasantries Kelly kept a running commentary in a low voice to Charlie, explaining who people were and what she liked—or didn’t like—about them. “Hey, Kel,” said a plain-looking girl in a brown dress.
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“Oh, hi, Carmelita,” exclaimed Kelly. “Great job finding those stage props.” “Thanks! I got them at a garage sale,” said Carmelita, beaming. Kelly gave her the thumbs-up as she whisked away and muttered, “That’s probably where she got her clothes, too.” Charlie frowned. “You never know what you can find,” she said lightly. Kelly turned to her. “Really?” she asked. “Well, yeah,” said Charlie as she followed Kelly into another building and down a hallway to the next classroom. “I mean, I’m guessing that when your family has a garage sale, people think they’ve come across some pretty nice stuff.” Kelly knit her brow. “My family doesn’t do garage sales,” she said, like it was beneath her. “We donate.” “Oh,” Charlie said. “That’s . . . really interesting.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to keep discussing it. She was relieved when the teacher walked in so she could report to him and get her seat assignment. At lunch students waved at Kelly from the back table in the cafeteria and moved to make room for her and Charlie. Kelly introduced Charlie all around, and Charlie felt a little uneasy until she discovered that she didn’t have to talk so much within this group of chatty students. It gave her a chance to eat her lunch, and she was starving after her light breakfast. Once Kelly got up to leave, with 29
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Charlie following, the commentary returned. “Did you notice the girl who sat across from me?” Kelly said in a hushed voice on their way to drop off their lunch trays. “Her brother got arrested last year.” She whispered the last word. “Shoplifting.” Charlie cringed. She didn’t want to know that. But she also didn’t want to alienate Kelly by telling her to stop—she was stuck with her for the rest of the day. Charlie had known people like Kelly at her old school, and she’d steered clear. But she couldn’t do that now. Kelly was all she had. With a sinking feeling she started to realize that if Kelly gossiped about other people to her, a complete stranger, she would probably do the same about Charlie. That made Charlie want to be very careful about how she acted. Yet Kelly continued to be outwardly charming to almost everyone, and they all seemed to like her. Maybe they were all too scared to act any other way. “So who’s your best friend?” Charlie asked, thinking the best way to get through the rest of the day was to be the one asking the questions. “Was she there at lunch?” Kelly’s face clouded. “Oh, you know,” she said. “I think having a best friend is kind of babyish, really. Don’t you?” She waved to a group of boys walking down the hall the other way, and they all waved or lifted their heads or smiled in acknowledgment. “Hmm.” Charlie nodded thoughtfully, but totally disagreed. Having Amari as a best friend was not babyish at all. Maybe Kelly 30
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thought that way because she didn’t have one. On their way to sixth period, Kelly kept on with her cheery, outgoing personality, while never failing to follow up with casual, sometimes biting remarks about people once they were out of earshot. Charlie was growing tired of it. She almost stopped Kelly several times, but then remembered that if she did something to make Kelly mad, Kelly might just tell the whole school behind her back—and that was just not something Charlie needed to happen on her first day. Charlie began to dread the time between classes almost as much as she dreaded facing another period where she had no idea what was going on. The entire day was overwhelming. As Kelly and Charlie walked through the sunny courtyard to the auditorium for sixth-period theater class, a girl with black hair and an athletic build waved. “Three days!” she belted out to Kelly. “Can’t wait,” said Kelly, with a genuine smile this time. Charlie looked on curiously. “Hiya, Charlie,” the black-haired girl said. “I’m Maria Torres. I’m in your first and second periods, though I’m sure you wouldn’t remember me.” She flashed an infectious grin. Charlie felt herself smiling back. “At this point I can’t even remember what my first- and second-period classes are,” she said. “Math and science,” Maria said with a laugh, and continued walking. “See you around!” she called, and waved at the girls. Charlie waited cautiously to see what negative thing Kelly would say about Maria, but the girl was silent. 31
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“What’s happening in three days?” Charlie asked. “Soccer team tryouts,” said Kelly. “Oh, right!” said Charlie, growing excited. “You play soccer? Me too! I’m definitely going to be there.” “Yep,” said Kelly, who didn’t seem nearly as excited. She pushed through the door and narrowed her eyes at Charlie. “Are you any good?” Charlie was taken aback, and then she struggled over how to answer. If she said yes, would Kelly think she was bragging? If she said no . . . well, that would be silly. Charlie shrugged and tried to look mysterious. Kelly put on her plastic smile again as theater students surrounded her with questions and shoved fabric for costumes in her face. Soon she was swept away, leaving Charlie standing alone, trying like mad to figure out what Kelly’s deal was. But soon Mr. Anderson and his bright-yellow shirt beckoned her backstage and explained what the class was working on to prepare for the big show. He introduced her to Sara, the stage manager, and then assigned her to work with the student props manager, Carmelita, the girl Kelly had talked to in the hallway earlier. Carmelita kept Charlie on the move fetching things. At first Charlie didn’t know the difference between upstage and downstage, and she had stage right confused with stage left, so she wasn’t very useful. But Carmelita and the other crew members helped her out, and by the end of the class period she was feeling 32
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more confident. Despite her initial confusion, she really liked the unstructured atmosphere of theater class and the friendly students. The fact that there was no homework wasn’t bad either. Every now and then Charlie glanced at Kelly, who was fully in her element as one of the lead actors in this musical. She rehearsed scenes in the back of the auditorium with fellow actors who often asked her advice on how to deliver their lines. Charlie wondered what sort of mean things Kelly would say after class about them. When the bell rang, Charlie caught up with Kelly as usual. Walking to their last class, Kelly was preoccupied with texting, even though they weren’t supposed to be on their phones during school. They passed two teachers on their trek to the language arts building, but neither of them seemed to care. Maybe Kelly had special powers with teachers, too. “Is everything okay?” Charlie asked when Kelly stopped outside the classroom door to finish texting. “Ugh, parents,” said Kelly, not looking up. “Yeah, tell me about it,” agreed Charlie. “They’re the worst.” “For sure.” Kelly put away her phone and stared at Charlie for a long moment, as if she was going to say something more. But then the warning bell rang, and the look on her face went away. The two dashed into the room and separated, Kelly to her desk and Charlie to get her final seat assignment of the day. The teacher gave her a seat by the window. As Charlie stared outside at the tops of the barren tree branches, her mind wandered. 33
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She was exhausted from the new faces and questions. All day long, students and teachers had wanted to know why Charlie’s family had moved in the middle of the semester, and what kind of jobs her parents had, and how she liked it here. And she’d answered them all, over and over again, to be polite. Now the day was almost over, and Charlie couldn’t wait to call Amari and tell her about it. A wave of homesickness swept through her. She wondered how long it would take her to walk back to Chicago. “Charlie?” the language arts teacher said, interrupting her thoughts. “Something interesting going on out there?” Charlie whipped her head around to face the front, her cheeks growing warm “Sorry,” she said. “Just . . . doing a, um, a math problem in my head that I was stuck on in, um, in math class. Earlier, I mean,” she mumbled. She glanced across the room at Kelly for support, but Kelly was whispering something to the boy in front of her. The boy glanced sidelong at Charlie. Charlie shifted uncomfortably. Was Kelly talking about her now? She forced herself to face the whiteboard, where the teacher was pointing to a sentence and talking about direct objects, but her mind swam. Finally the bell rang at the end of the day, and Charlie couldn’t be more ready for it. Flustered and not sure what to say to Kelly, she decided a hasty thank-you would do. She smiled weakly and ran out of the language arts building, reoriented herself to the lockers, and then followed the masses to the pick-up area in the 34
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circle drive. She scanned the line of cars, looking for her dad. When she finally found him, she walked rapidly toward their car and climbed inside. “Let’s go,” she said, closing the door. Her dad pulled away from the curb. “How was it?” he asked, his voice guarded. It was like he already knew. Charlie clipped her seat belt together, then leaned her head against the headrest, closed her stinging eyes, and sighed, exhausted. “I want to go back to Chicago.”
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C HAPTER 6
Figuring Things Out
After school Charlie collapsed on her bed and called Amari. She told her about all the things that were strange and different and unsettling about her new school. And how Kelly had talked about her behind her back already. Amari was sympathetic. “I’m so sorry you got stuck with that gossipy tour guide,” she said. “She sounds kinda sneaky. Maybe you can avoid her.” “I’d like to, but she’s in all my classes,” Charlie said glumly. “And she plays soccer, too.” “It figures,” said Amari. “Did anything good happen?” Charlie tried to pull herself out of her gloomy mood. “I guess theater class was all right.” “That’s great! Well, it’s a good start, at least. Right?” There was a tiny edge to Amari’s voice that puzzled Charlie at first, but then she realized Amari was probably getting tired of hearing her complain all the time. Charlie didn’t blame her. “Yeah, for sure,” she said sheepishly. Soon Amari had to go, and Charlie reluctantly turned to
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the piles of homework she had racked up throughout the day. Luckily all but one of her teachers had been lenient on due dates and said she could have extra time if she needed it. That was a relief, but with soccer coming up, Charlie wanted to get as much work out of the way as possible. Besides, what else was she going to do? Charlie’s mom came home from work and popped her head in right as Charlie was climbing into bed. “Hey, kiddo!” she said. She put her hand up to cover her yawn. “How was your first day? Everything go okay?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Charlie grumpily, ignoring the part of herself that did. She wanted to stay mad at her mom for making them move here. “Sounds pretty rough. Are you sure you don’t want to talk it through?” She entered the room and sat down on the edge of Charlie’s bed. “I already called Amari about everything, and I’m tired. Have you found my soccer stuff?” “Um . . . when do you need it again?” “Thursday.” “I’ll look for it,” promised Charlie’s mom. “Want me to tuck you in?” Charlie frowned. Her parents rarely did that anymore. “No, that’s okay.” 37
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“Aw, come on,” said Mom. “These hands were made for it.” She wiggled her fingers. “I thought they were made for emergency surgery,” said Charlie drily. “That too,” agreed Mom. She straightened the comforter and gave Charlie a questioning look. “Oh, all right,” Charlie said reluctantly. It made her feel like a little kid, but she kind of loved it, too. Dr. Wilde smiled. She reached over Charlie to tuck the blankets in on the far side, then secured them on the near side, so she was nice and snug. It made her feel warm and safe. When her mom turned out the bedside lamp and kissed Charlie on the forehead and said “I love you, little bunny” like she always used to, Charlie balked. “Mom,” she said. “Enough.” Charlie’s mom laughed softly and hugged her through the blankets. “Okay. Good night. Tomorrow will be better.” “Night, Mom.” Mom got up and left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. Charlie stared into the darkness after her. The next day Charlie navigated her own way to first period. She got there early and found Kelly talking to Maria about soccer tryouts. She joined them. “Charlotte plays soccer, too,” Kelly said to Maria, raising an eyebrow. 38
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“Yep,” said Charlie. She wasn’t sure why Kelly was calling her Charlotte all of a sudden, but it was just one more thing that bothered her about Kelly. “That’s fantastic!” said Maria. “We’ll have fun at tryouts.” It looked like she really meant it. “Thanks,” said Charlie with a cautious smile. Maria seemed like a cool person. And Kelly didn’t have anything bad to say about her. That had to mean something, though Charlie wasn’t really sure what. Charlie made it through the morning on her own, though sometimes she naturally fell in step with Kelly since they were always going in the same direction. She joined Kelly for lunch again and sat quietly like she’d done the previous day, content to observe and try to find people who might be better friends for her. But the others at the table all seemed to have their own best friends already, which wasn’t surprising. Several of them politely asked Charlie a question or two, but then went back to conversations with their friends about horse shows or various clubs they belonged to, which Charlie wasn’t really into. Kelly was superpopular, and she reveled in attention, but she didn’t actually seem to have any close friends. Charlie was sure she was not going be one either. Halfway through lunch, she began to scout out the rest of the cafeteria to see where she might sit in the future, because she really didn’t see herself fitting in with these students. Just as she shoved the last of her food into her mouth, 39
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she spied Maria a few tables away, sitting with a boy who was constantly messing around on his phone while they talked a little now and then. And there were open seats at their table. Charlie smiled to herself. She’d look for Maria tomorrow. On Wednesday Charlie stopped shadowing Kelly and went to her classes on her own. She strode more confidently through the buildings and across the courtyard, saying hi to a few familiar-looking people now and then. At lunch she stopped short of Kelly’s table and went to the one where Maria was sitting across from the boy. “Hi, Maria,” said Charlie, eyeing the open chair next to her. “Hey, Charlie,” said Maria. “You want to sit?” “Sure,” Charlie replied, relieved. “That would be great.” She set down her tray, glanced at the boy, who was furiously typing on his phone, and sat in the chair next to Maria. Maria wore her hair in a ponytail. The corners of her mouth turned up naturally, which made her look like a very pleasant person even when she wasn’t smiling. But she was smiling now. “That’s Mac Barnes,” she said, pointing to the kid across from her. The boy, who had braces and an impeccably perfect squaredoff Afro, leaned forward on one elbow and looked up. “Hey. How’s it going so far?” “Pretty good,” said Charlie. “You’re in my first class too, aren’t you? You sit near me.” “Yep,” he said. “One row over.” He went back to his phone. 40
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Maria butted in. “Are you excited for tryouts tomorrow?” Charlie perked up. “Yeah! But where do we go? My mom got an email about it when I signed up, but I forgot to ask her about that.” “Behind the school,” Mac said, still typing. “The field inside the track. The goalposts aren’t up yet, but they should be soon.” “Do you play too?” Charlie asked him, surprised. “I thought it was a girl’s team.” “No,” said Mac, glancing at her. “I just come to watch Maria once in a while.” “That’s really cool,” Charlie said with a grin, and then she looked slyly at Maria and back at Mac. “Are you two . . .” “No,” they both replied, a little hastily. “We’re just friends,” Maria told Charlie. “We’ve been friends since we were really little.” She frowned at Mac. “Anyway, for soccer we’ll all go to the locker rooms to change first—just like for PE class.” “Cool. I know where that is.” “And be prepared—Coach Candy is tough, and she works us really hard. Our team was undefeated in the fall, so we want to keep up the perfect record.” “Okay,” said Charlie. A shadow of doubt entered her mind. Maybe tryouts would be tougher than she expected. Mac took a bite of his salad, then turned his attention to his cinnamon roll and started painstakingly picking the raisins off it. 41
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Charlie resumed eating and watched him curiously. Mac glanced up at her. “The raisins look like bugs,” he said. When he’d gotten them all, he shoved half of the roll into his mouth. “Arfopaws ow isgussee.” Charlie frowned. “Arfopaws? What?” She laughed. Maria rolled her eyes as Mac chewed. “He said arthropods are disgusting.” “What’s an ‘arthropod’ again?” asked Charlie. It sounded familiar. “Bugs, lobsters, junk like that,” said Maria dismissively. “It’s a word on our science vocab list this week.” “Ah, that’s where I saw it,” said Charlie. Mac swallowed. “I mostly just hate bugs.” “He’s terrified of them,” Maria said. Mac shrugged, unapologetic. “I like snakes, though. Go figure.” “I can’t stand snakes,” said Maria. She shuddered. “Give me a bug any day.” She hesitated. “I mean, don’t actually give me a bug. . . .” “I won’t,” Charlie said, laughing. Maria picked up her last bite of cinnamon roll and smashed it on top of Mac’s raisins, then shoved the whole sticky mass into her mouth. “’hanks!” she said, chewing. He wrinkled his nose and sighed. “I seriously hate raisins. They’re almost as bad as peas.” 42
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“Raisins are okay,” said Charlie, “but I agree, peas are disgusting.” “Right?” said Mac. “They’re literally the worst.” “They squeak between your teeth.” “I hate that.” Mac shuddered. “Peas are estúpida.” “Estúpido,” Maria corrected. “Peas are masculine. Own the peas, Mr. Man.” “Whatever,” Mac muttered. He glanced around the cafeteria, then said abruptly, “I gotta go.” He stood up and shoved his chair under the table, and with a nod, he was off to return his tray and join a group of boys who were leaving the cafeteria. Maria frowned and licked the frosting off her fingers. If she was bothered by Mac’s brisk departure, she appeared to get over it quickly. “Anyway,” she said, “are you coming to practice after school?” Charlie looked confused. “What?” “Some of us are getting together to practice in the field after school today—didn’t Kelly invite you?” “Um, no,” said Charlie. Her face grew warm. “Oh,” said Maria. “Well, can you stay after school? It’ll only be for an hour or so.” “I—I don’t have my gear with me.” Charlie desperately wished someone had told her. “Maybe I can have my dad bring it,” she said automatically, like she’d always done back in Chicago. But then she remembered her dad had a job now, and neither parent was 43
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around to help her out. She’d have to run all the way home to get her stuff, then come all the way back. And, if her mom hadn’t, she’d have to find it all first. She chided herself for not looking for her gear before. “Actually, never mind,” she said, disappointed. “I can’t make it.” “No worries,” said Maria, standing up. “It’s not a big deal.” She smiled reassuringly and gathered her tray and utensils. Charlie wasn’t sure what to do. Was she invited to hang around with Maria? She hastily downed her milk as Maria started walking away. Maria looked over her shoulder. “You coming, Chuck?” she asked. Charlie grinned at the nickname and jumped to her feet. “On it.” Things were looking up. Now all Charlie had to do was make the soccer team. And from the way Maria spoke about it, it might not be easy. Tonight was definitely going to be a practice night, even if she had to practice solo.
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C HAPTER 7
A Mysterious Gift
“Mom!” Charlie yelled when she walked in the house after school. “Have you found my soccer stuff yet?” Jessie bounded over and jumped up to lick her face. Charlie pet the dog’s neck distractedly, then gently pushed her to the floor. Mom didn’t answer. Charlie set her empty water bottle on the kitchen counter next to a long to-do list, with very few items crossed off. Charlie noticed “find Charlie’s soccer stuff for Thurs” was penciled at the bottom in her mom’s handwriting. But it wasn’t crossed off. Charlie sighed and went upstairs to her room. Fat Princess was curled up and sleeping soundly on her bed. Big Kitty, who’d come out from behind the stove days ago, slunk down the hallway ready to jump at any noise. “Mom?” she called again. “She’s still at the hospital!” Andy hollered from his bedroom. “She called and said she had to stay late again.” “It figures,” muttered Charlie. She tossed her backpack on her bed and, remembering the science vocab she needed to brush up on, considered doing her homework. But she went down to the garage instead.
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Jessie followed her out the door, eager to nose around. Charlie flipped on the light, revealing stacks of boxes everywhere. They couldn’t even fit their car in there yet. The family was planning on tackling it all this weekend, since Mom and Dad were too busy with work to do anything else these days. But Charlie was nervous. She needed her stuff. She hadn’t kicked a ball around in months. Why had she waited until now to prepare for tryouts? She started pawing through boxes, looking inside them and closing them again. “Welp, I found the kitchen,” she said to nobody in particular. “Not that Mom and Dad have time to cook anything anymore.” She glanced up and scanned the garage. There had to be a better way to find what she needed. Andy appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing?” “I need my soccer gear. Tryouts tomorrow.” “Most of your stuff is in the back corner. Me and Dad separated the boxes when we unloaded the truck.” “Dad and I.” “No, it was Dad and me,” Andy said. “I should know. All your books were really heavy.” “I meant— Aw, forget it.” Charlie scratched her head and wove through the stacks to the back corner. “Thanks.” “I have a couple of friends coming over,” Andy said, “so if you see them, let them in.” Charlie scowled. Andy already had friends at the coming-overto-the-house stage? Whatever. “Let them in yourself,” she said. 46
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“Okay, cranky butt. Sheesh.” Andy disappeared, and Jessie bounded into the house after him. Charlie started peeking inside boxes again. She and her mom had packed the soccer stuff all together with other sports equipment, she remembered. She started moving things around, finding all her summer clothes, three crates of books, a container with FRAGILE written all over it that contained some of her electronics, and a big lightweight box of Halloween costumes. As she tossed the costume box onto another pile, a small package slipped to the floor at Charlie’s feet. She bent down and picked it up, then turned it over and saw her name, Charlie Wilde, and her old address. There was no return address and no stamp on it. Was this the package that she saw by the door when they were getting ready to leave the old house? “Hmm,” she said. She worked at the flap, trying to rip off the tape, and finally managed to get it started with her teeth. She tore it open the rest of the way and looked inside, then held her breath and carefully slid the contents onto the top of a box. Out came something encased in bubble wrap, and a folded piece of paper. Charlie unrolled the bubble wrap and pulled out a bracelet. “Sweet!” Charlie turned the bracelet over in her hand. It had a solid, silvery-metallic band with a small, square, black screen. Tiny buttons protruded from both sides. It kind of looked like one of those expensive health-monitoring bracelets that athletes wear. She pressed a button, and then another, but nothing happened. 47
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Probably needs a battery, she thought. The bracelet was cool but not flashy, and it might even make Charlie look like a more serious soccer player at tryouts tomorrow, which wouldn’t hurt. She turned it over again. It had a metal clasp with a release button. She pressed it. The clasp separated, but it immediately tried to stick together again, as if the two pieces were magnetic. “Ooh, cool,” she breathed. Charlie slipped the bracelet on her wrist, securing the clasp. It fit just a little bit loosely. If she wore it partway up her forearm, it was snug enough that it wouldn’t bounce around. “I bet the magnetic clasp is for balance or something scientific like that,” she mused, twisting her wrist this way and that, admiring it, then held her arm out. She liked the bracelet a lot, probably even more because it was so professional looking. It was the kind of thing Charlie’s soccer hero, Alex Morgan, would wear. Or Jessie Graff from American Ninja Warrior. She picked up the folded piece of paper and opened it. Charlie, it’s time. You know what to do. There was no signature. The handwriting kind of looked like Charlie’s grandma’s. Charlie’s grandma was sciency like Dad, so she might think a bracelet like this was interesting. But why would Grandma leave a gift on the doorstep like that without coming in or saying something? Maybe it was a going-away present from Amari and her other 49
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soccer friends in Chicago, and they tried to disguise their handwriting so she’d be surprised. Charlie pulled out her phone and texted Amari. “Did you leave a sports bracelet at my house as a gift?” She took a quick photo of it and sent that to Amari too. “Nope!” came the quick reply. “But I wish I had—that’s cool! Just pretend it’s from me, haha. Are you doing better?” “A little. I miss you, though.” “Me too,” Amari replied, with four rows of crying emojis. “I’ve got soccer tryouts tomorrow,” wrote Charlie. “Wish me luck!” “LUCK!!” replied Amari. “Don’t worry. You’re a superstar! You know what to do.” Charlie smiled forlornly. You know what to do. Amari had written the same words that were in the note. Maybe the mysterious gift was a sign that she’d do well. But not if she didn’t find her gear. Reluctantly she replied to Amari with a variety of hearts and put her phone away. It was almost easier to handle the loneliness when she didn’t talk to Amari. Then she could pretend her life in Chicago never really existed. Charlie turned back to the bracelet and examined it more closely, studying some etchings near the clasp. “Well, thank you very much, whoever you are,” Charlie said, and shoved the paper and bubble wrap back into the package. With the recycle bin already overflowing, she left it on top of a stack of boxes to 50
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take care of on the weekend. “That’s one emptied,” she said, looking over the piles of boxes filling the garage. She pulled her sleeve down over the bracelet in the chilly garage. “Only forty thousand more to go.” With renewed energy Charlie began her search once more, tossing boxes left and right with little effort, even the ones full of books. “And Andy said these were heavy,” she scoffed. “Weakling.” She made it all the way to the bottom of the second stack before she found what she was after. “Finally!” she exclaimed, tearing open the box. In her excitement, the flap ripped off in her hand as easy as a piece of paper. She tossed the hunk of cardboard aside and pulled out her favorite soccer ball, her shin guards, and the brand-new cleats her parents had bought right before the move because her old ones were too small. She didn’t have much time to break them in. With her gear in hand and the new bracelet on her arm, Charlie left the wreckage and went to the grassy area in the neighborhood to practice dribbling. She wished doubly hard now that Kelly had invited her to the after-school practice on the field, and wondered why she hadn’t. Maybe she’d forgotten. And maybe Kelly was just being Kelly. Charlie shook her head as she missed a shot in her imaginary goal, trying to get the negative thoughts out of her brain. She focused on the bracelet and reminded herself that she was an excellent player. And that she did know what to do. And even if she had 51
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butterflies inside, the bracelet made her look like a pro. “Okay,” she said under her breath. “Let’s do this.” “How’d today go?” Charlie’s dad asked the kids as they sat at the table to eat. His voice had taken on a hint of anxiety since the move. He loosened his necktie and rolled up his sleeves. “I told my students you were settling in.” “What?” moaned Charlie. She still wasn’t used to her dad having students, and now he was talking to them about her. “Please don’t do that.” “Where’s Mom?” asked Andy, eyeing the take-out pizza on the table. “She said she was going to be home for dinner.” It was the third pizza night they’d had since they’d gotten here. “She’s on the way,” their dad explained, “but said to start without her.” “Good. I’m starving,” Andy said. He grabbed a slice. “My day was great. Juan and Zach came over to play video games for a while.” “That’s cool,” Dad said. “How was school?” “Fine.” “And how about you, Charlie?” he asked cautiously. Charlie looked at her mom’s empty chair and sighed. “Feeling guilty again, Dad?” She reached for a slice. “No-o-o,” he said, making a face. “My day was okay,” she said. 52
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Dad’s face cleared. “Good! How are things with, um . . . Katie?” Charlie glanced at him. “Who? You mean Kelly?” “Sorry. Yes.” “She’s fine, I guess. I didn’t hang out with her much today.” “Oh.” He pressed his lips together and spread a napkin on his lap. “Have you found any other friends yet?” “Dad, please.” Charlie took a bite of her pizza and wrinkled her nose. The crust tasted like the desert itself. Arizona pizza makers could sure stand to learn a lesson from Lou Malnati’s or Connie’s. “Please what? I’m just wondering about your life.” Charlie chewed and swallowed, and gave her father a bored look. “Yeah, okay, I met a girl named Maria and her friend Mac. Maria plays soccer, too.” “Wonderful!” said her father. “Oh, and after school I found my soccer stuff, so you can cross that off the to-do list—I saw it on the counter.” “Great job handling that one on your own!” Dad exclaimed as Charlie’s mom came walking up the driveway from the bus stop. “And look, Mom’s home.” He paused, and his voice softened. “I’m very glad you found a friend, Charlie.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you make it sound like I’m in first grade, Dad.” They all looked up when they heard the door open, then Charlie continued. “You’d better not go around telling your students that you’re so glad your kid finally found a 53
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friend. That’s embarrassing.” “What’s embarrassing?” asked Mom, walking into the kitchen. “Dad is,” Andy piped up. “He needs to stop talking about us in class. It’s weird.” Charlie’s mom laughed. “You just aren’t used to your dad talking to anybody but you kids. But I talk about you all the time at the hospital—I always have. Back in Chicago, too. Just today I was telling the mom of a young patient about the awful diaper rash Andy had as a baby.” “Mom!” Charlie and Andy said together. Andy covered his face with his hands and fell dramatically back in his chair. Charlie shook her head. “What?” their mom asked innocently. She joined them at the table. “I only do it if it helps me connect with a patient. Besides, every baby has a diaper rash once in a while. Andy’s was just . . . exceptional.” She grabbed a slice of pizza and winked at her husband across the table. “Wasn’t it, honey?” “Mother, stop!” Charlie said. Andy pretended to faint off the chair. He crawled under the table. “It won first prize in the diaper rash contest,” Dad said, chuckling. Reluctantly Charlie laughed too. She had to admit, diaper rash was kind of funny—unless you’re the baby who has it. And when your mom is a doctor in the emergency room, you end up talking about embarrassing stuff like that a whole lot. 54
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C HAPTER 8
Escape
Far from Arizona, a scientist in a white coat entered a heavily guarded office across the hallway from his laboratory. “Good evening, soldiers,” he said to the black-suited figures inside. “You’ve had a busy week.” “Good evening, Dr. Gray,” said the two nearest him. The scientist’s gaze was drawn to the center of the office by his desk, where the burglar who’d broken into the facility sat. The man’s hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were bound. He had a gag in his mouth. “How’s my old friend Jack today?” asked Dr. Gray, walking over to him. He pulled the gag out, then stepped back and leaned against the desk. “Tired of the interrogation yet? Ready to talk, just the two of us?” He studied the man, a curious, almost sympathetic look on his face. “Soldiers, please give me a moment with Dr. Goldstein.” Without question they slipped out, leaving the two men alone. Dr. Jack Goldstein looked angry and unkempt. He had bruises on his face. “You can’t keep me here, Victor. People are going to notice I’ve gone missing.”
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Dr. Gray reached into his lab coat pocket and produced the prisoner’s passport. He pulled out a folded, unused plane ticket and waved it at Jack. “People think you’re in Peru doing research. Isn’t that right? They won’t miss you for quite some time.” “They’ll check in,” Jack said through gritted teeth. “How long are you going to hold me here? If you really think I’ve wronged you by trying to take back what’s rightfully mine, then have me arrested! If not, let me go.” He narrowed his eyes, glanced at the doors to make sure the soldiers were gone, and wriggled his wrists inside the rope. He’d been working at the knots since the soldiers had brought him to this room. His skin was covered in rope burns, and every movement was excruciating, but the knots were getting looser. The scientist frowned. “Not until you tell me what you did with the other device.” “I don’t have it.” “You keep saying that.” Dr. Gray shifted. “But we both know that’s not true.” “You’ve searched me. It’s obvious I don’t have it.” “Not on you.” Dr. Gray clucked his tongue. “You always were so literal.” He crossed his legs in front of him and then leaned forward and looked Jack in the eye. “Where is it?” Jack’s head fell back and he let out a deep, ragged sigh. “Victor.” Dr. Gray slammed his hand down on the desk. “Answer the question!” 56
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“Isn’t it clear by now that I’m not going to tell you or any of your . . . your new . . . soldiers? Or whatever they are.” Jack pretended to shift indignantly in his seat, tugging at the ropes at the same time. With searing pain, he managed to pull out one hand. A wave of hope coursed through him, but he knew he couldn’t let on. Now he just had to find a way to distract Dr. Gray. He kept his voice steady. “Why do you want it so badly anyway? It doesn’t work.” Dr. Gray scowled. “No, really. I mean it. Why? Are you on the verge of something? A breakthrough? Is that why you added the extra security?” Slowly, carefully, he slipped his other hand out of the rope and grabbed on to it so it wouldn’t fall to the floor and give him away. Dr. Gray stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, Jack, I know what you’re doing.” Dr. Goldstein’s hands froze. “What am I doing?” “You’re changing the subject. And I need an answer from you. So I’ll ask you one last time. Where. Is. My—” Jack jumped to his feet and threw the rope at Victor’s face. With his ankles still tied, he lunged at his former friend, knocking him down, and then struggled to yank his feet free, trying to hop over to the door at the same time. “Soldiers!” cried Dr. Gray. “Quickly!” Jack kicked his shoes off and forced his feet out of the ropes, then ran for the nearest door, stumbling and catching himself as 57
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he went. When the soldiers rushed in, Jack barreled into them, knocking them off balance. He dived to the floor between them and scrambled on all fours to get through the door. If only he could make it outside the building, he might have a chance! Another soldier came running at Jack as he got back to his feet. Jack dodged her and twisted away, just barely out of reach. “Help!” he shouted, running for the stairwell. But the woman was quick and shot after him. At the top of the steps, she tackled him around the legs. Arms flailing and body teetering, he crashed to the stairs. He made a desperate grab at the soldier’s bodysuit as he fell, dragging her with him. They thudded all the way down the stairwell, while a pack of soldiers who appeared at the top of the stairs raced after them. Jack and the woman hit the landing, both of them dazed by the fall. After a second to regain his bearings, Jack rolled out of her reach and got to his feet, limping and trying to run as fast as he could. The woman groaned and didn’t move. But the pack of soldiers was in hot pursuit. Jack turned down a long hallway, gunning toward the double-door exit. The clatter behind him grew louder. He pushed harder. Almost there! When he reached the first door he slammed into the handle at full speed. His face and body smacked the glass. He gasped in pain and crumpled to the floor, stunned. The door was locked. The soldier from the stairwell reappeared, zigzagging past the others and taking the lead. They all closed in on Jack. Quickly he got to his feet and tried the other door. It opened! He burst 58
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through it to the snowy sidewalk as the woman dived after him. She grabbed him around the waist and knocked him flat on the ground, landing on top of him. Within seconds, they were surrounded. Defeated, Jack let his body go limp. Dr. Gray’s soldiers grabbed him by the arms and hauled him back into the building. They dragged him down the hallway and up the steps as if he were as light as a feather, and brought him back into the office. There, as Dr. Gray silently watched, the soldiers tied up Jack again, much more securely this time. The doctor stared down at Jack for a long moment, fists clenching and unclenching, lips pressed hard into a white line. Then he turned away. With a heavy sigh, he walked to the door. When he reached the soldiers, he looked back. “Ramp up your interrogation efforts. I don’t care what you do. Don’t stop until you have the information I want.”
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C HAPTER 9
Doubt Creeps In
Charlie bumped into Maria the next morning on the way to first period and walked with her. Mac trailed behind them with another boy, examining his cell phone. “He’s kind of a tech genius,” Maria said, tossing her head in Mac’s direction. Seeing the phone, she pulled hers out of her pocket. “I meant to get your number yesterday,” she said as they entered the classroom. “Quick, before the bell rings.” Charlie gave it to her. “Texting you now so you’ll have mine,” said Maria. “Cool,” said Charlie. She squelched a smile, trying to be cool, but she was thrilled that Maria had asked for it. Kelly came in and joined Maria and Charlie at the front of the room. “Hello,” she said, sounding a bit aloof. “Hey, Kel,” said Maria. “Hi, Kelly,” Charlie said. “How was your soccer practice yesterday?” She tilted her head slightly, then looked at Maria too. “Good,” said Kelly, twirling her necklace. “Sorry I forgot to invite you. It just slipped my mind, I guess. The other girls and I
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were saying how surprised we were that you play. Are you ready for this afternoon?” Charlie didn’t know what Kelly meant by being surprised, but she didn’t ask. She lifted her chin and clasped her hand over the bracelet under her sleeve, drawing confidence from it. “I’m ready,” she said. She tried to take comfort in the fact that this was a smaller school, so she probably wouldn’t be up against eighty-five other girls vying for twenty spots. “What position do you play?” asked Kelly. “I hope we don’t have to compete for a spot on the team.” She was wearing the fake smile that Charlie had seen plenty of. It made her uneasy. “Halfback or forward,” Charlie said. “How about you?” “Defense,” said Kelly. She brightened. So did Charlie. “Good, then there’s nothing to worry about.” Kelly laughed. “Oh, I’m not. I was just concerned for you.” Charlie grew flustered. “Oh.” Maria balanced on the corner of her desk as other students came pouring into the room. “The truth is, everybody’s excited to see how you play. We can use another big scorer.” “I suppose every team can use that,” Charlie said, trying to laugh, but it came out hollow. What if she wasn’t as good as Maria was expecting? What if Kelly was right to be worried for her? “I wish I’d had more time to practice, but there’s been a lot of snow back home,” said Charlie. “And . . . we’re still unpacking, so I’ve been pretty busy,” she added miserably. She remembered what a 61
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disadvantage she had. Here in the Southwest there was no snow. Kids could play year round. And maybe they had been. Charlie’s one attempt at brushing up her skills last night suddenly seemed extremely weak. The late bell rang, and everybody rushed to their seats as the teacher strode into the room. Charlie, whose seat was at the back of the room next to Mac’s, darted to it and sat down fast. Her desk skidded. “Whoa,” she muttered. “Dang,” said Mac. “Yeah,” said Charlie. “That was . . . really weird.” She scooted her desk back in line, her cheeks burning. Soon her mind wandered to soccer tryouts again. What if she wasn’t good enough to make the team? But she knew she had to keep her attitude in the right place. Think positive. Be strong. Focus on the ball. And run like she was being chased by a pack of wild animals. Or like the late bell just rang. You know what to do. Charlie stared down at her bracelet. She undid the clasp and held it in her hand, wishing it actually worked. Maybe this weekend she could look for a battery for it. Then she slipped the bracelet back on. Top athletes used these, and now so did Charlie. She was going to be like Alex from the US women’s team and show everyone she had the right to wear it. This bracelet would help her keep her mind focused on being the best player she could be. But Kelly’s words still bothered her, and she had to work hard to push the doubts aside. If only she could stop feeling so jittery. 62
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C HAPTER 10
Tryouts
After school Charlie sped to the locker room to change. She wanted to arrive at the field as soon as possible so she could get in a few kicks and dribbles and maybe calm her nerves a little. She waved to Maria as she left the locker room and made her way past the athletic storage building, which several guys in hard hats were working on, and across the track to the grass, where some orange cones and a mesh bag full of balls sat. Charlie grabbed a ball, did a few stretches, and began a slow dribble up the field before coming back and stretching some more. This would be a bad time to pull a muscle. As she held her stretches and listened to the steady pounding of hammers nearby, she pulled up her sleeve and used her bracelet to keep her focus strong. When Kelly, Maria, and a bunch of other girls reached the field, Charlie was all business. She nodded politely but didn’t join in the joking and laughter. Instead she went over her best moves in her mind and began to jump in place, warming up and trying to get her new shoes to bend and give a little more. The bracelet slid around on her wrist, and Charlie shoved it up her arm to secure it. Soon the coach joined them. “Gather around!� she shouted,
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and clapped her hands a few times. The girls moved to surround her. Coach was young and tall and muscular, with blazing black eyes and hair, and dark-brown skin. “It’s great to have you all back again,” she said. “And nice to see some unfamiliar faces, too—I look forward to getting to know you. For those of you who are new, I’m Coach Candy.” Charlie felt a wave of relief—apparently she wasn’t the only new face. And then she spied an athletic bracelet on Coach’s arm. Cool! Coach explained how the tryout would go. She laid out her high expectations, making individual eye contact with the girls as she spoke so she could be sure they understood. “Everybody starts at the same level today, whether you’ve played on the team before or not. This is not a time to be shy with your abilities. I want to see how you move the ball, how you share it, and how you attack the goal or defend it,” she said. “Is everybody clear?” “Yes, Coach!” shouted the girls who’d been on the team before. Charlie missed the cue, but she vowed to get it next time. She felt intimidation creep in again. Despite what Coach had said, Charlie worried that the other girls knew her so well that they’d have an advantage. When Coach Candy caught Charlie’s eye to make sure she understood, she nodded emphatically. Coach Candy split the girls into two teams and handed out red 64
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scrimmage vests to one team and blue to the other, then sent them to opposite ends of the field for some warm-up exercises. Charlie was on the blue team, and she noted ruefully that Kelly and Maria were together on the red team. As she ran suicides and dribbled through the cones, Charlie fought her nerves and tried to let her instinct take over, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what Coach said about not being shy to show her abilities. This was Charlie’s chance, and she didn’t want to blow it. When Coach came to observe the blue team, she called out encouragement and suggestions to the girls to improve. “Stay tight around that end cone, Bree,” she called to a tall girl dribbling through the cones in front of Charlie. “Don’t let that ball get away from you.” Charlie pushed hard, her lungs and thighs burning. Her legs were shaky, a sure sign that she wasn’t in top shape, but she kept the ball in control as she rounded the end cones. “Way to dig in, Charlie!” Coach called out. Charlie didn’t let on the pride she felt, but it gave her a boost of confidence, temporarily at least. Soon Coach whistled to announce a scrimmage between the two groups. She assigned positions, putting Charlie in the left forward spot. Still breathing heavily from the workout, Charlie took her place, and her nerves kicked in again. Compulsories were one thing—Charlie didn’t have to count on anybody else to prove 65
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she was good at that. But an actual scrimmage was different. She jumped up and down a few times to keep her muscles warm, but she felt jittery. “Calm down,” she muttered. She was doing fine so far. Plus, Coach already knew her name—that was a good sign, wasn’t it? When Coach put the ball in play, Charlie kept her eye on it and advanced with it, staying in her invisible lane. She stumbled once over her new shoes but thankfully didn’t fall. The play went along for several minutes with no action for Charlie, but her team was dominating. When Bree, who was playing center forward on Charlie’s team, popped the ball up in the air for a goal shot, Kelly, as a fullback for the red team, headed it. It hit off somebody’s knee and flew sideways toward Charlie. Charlie dug in, but after pushing so hard earlier, her muscles were still weak. She felt slow getting to the ball, like her alertness was lagging a second behind where it should be. And her nerves kicked in, making every movement seem slightly out of control. She dribbled awkwardly, almost losing the ball—it wasn’t going where she wanted it to go. Try as she might, Charlie couldn’t get in the groove. Soon the red team swarmed in and stole the ball out from under her, racing in the other direction and leaving her breathless and empty-handed. She stared and shook her head, angry at herself, then started back toward the centerline, hoping she didn’t just give the other team a chance to score. Coach soon subbed out half of each team, including Charlie, 66
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to let other girls play. Disappointed, Charlie headed for the bleachers, knowing she hadn’t had an opportunity to show Coach what she could really do. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and took a drink of water, then sat down to try to get her head in the right place. She couldn’t fail tryouts! How awful and embarrassing would that be? Not only would she have to face Kelly, but she’d have to tell Amari that she didn’t make it. No matter how hard Charlie tried to push the thoughts aside, they began to consume her. After a while Coach called Charlie back in. She jumped up and raced to her position, knowing this might be her last chance to make the team. She had to hustle. The whistle blew, and the girls exploded. Charlie had to make her own magic happen if she was going to leave a good impression. When at last the ball soared toward her, Charlie didn’t waste a moment. She sprinted for it, trapped it, and started for the goal, trying to turn her anxiety into action. Immediately a girl from the red team was on her tail, and then another. Charlie felt her heart racing—she couldn’t lose the ball now. This was her chance! But the other team was closing in. Charlie lunged forward with a burst of adrenaline and pulled away from her competitors faster than she’d ever done before. A thrill rushed through her. She dodged around another girl who was coming toward her, chipped the ball over her outstretched leg, and sped after it. She blew past a halfback and looked around 67
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wildly for a teammate, but everyone was too far behind her—she was going to have to take it to the goal alone. She ran over the field, keeping the opposing team’s fullbacks and goalie in sight as their halfbacks and sweeper reversed directions and started charging after her. Seconds later, she closed in on the goal box. The fullbacks thundered toward her, and before Charlie realized what was happening, Kelly’s blond braid was swinging in her face. Charlie ducked and slid around the astonished girl. She tipped the ball out of Kelly’s reach, then recovered and sprinted with all her remaining power toward it. A circle of red jerseys closed in around her. With a giant leap, Charlie reached the ball and slammed her foot into it. It soared over Kelly’s head at bullet speed. The goalie dived. Her fingers nicked the ball and it flew up, skimmed the bottom side of the goalpost, and bounced into the net. The blue team cheered. The flabbergasted red team stared. Charlie stared too, breathing hard, almost unable to believe she’d scored a goal. Then she caught Kelly staring intensely at her, and she wasn’t smiling. Charlie stopped short, a little shocked by the glare, then decided to ignore it. She turned around, pumped her fist in the air, and started jogging back to her position. “Nice one, Chuck,” Maria said as she passed her. “Girl friend can run like the wind! How’d you do that?” Charlie grinned. She wasn’t sure how she’d done it, and she also wasn’t sure she could do it again. “Beginner’s luck,” she said. 68
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But for the moment she felt invincible. The sluggishness was gone, and her confidence was back. Things were looking up. The game continued, with Charlie feeling stronger than she’d ever felt. After a few more plays Charlie’s teammates began passing the ball to her, and it wasn’t long before Charlie was being pursued down the field once more, leaving everybody in her dust except a few teammates who began to anticipate her moves. She passed the ball to Bree as she came sprinting up toward the goal, and the blue team scored again, Charlie taking the assist. When opposing team members chased after her, Charlie felt a spike of adrenaline—she could play forever! Maybe it was the crisp air, or the different climate, or the fact that Charlie wanted it so badly, she wasn’t sure which, but she hoped the feeling would stay. But the third time Charlie broke away with the ball and raced for the goal, Kelly was ready and waiting, wearing a look that said she was going to get possession no matter what it took. Charlie didn’t see the look. She barely saw Kelly, who came charging toward her. Instead Charlie dodged and wove through the layers of defense. As she maneuvered, Kelly drew near, pulled her leg back, and let it fly. Charlie quickly nudged the ball to a teammate, but with sickening speed, Kelly’s foot smashed into Charlie’s leg, just above her shin guard. Their bodies collided. The impact rattled Charlie’s teeth, and searing pain shot through her. With a horrible scream, Charlie collapsed onto the field. 70
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