Secret Keeper Girl Fiction Series

by Dannah K. Gresh

  “Antonia, I’d like to see you in my office, please.” I found Miss Gilbert waiting for me when I returned to the locker room. I shuffled in behind her like a puppy with its tail between the legs.

  “Have a seat, Antonia.” For a while we just looked at each other, but finally a smile cracked on her face. “Do you want to tell me what this is all about?” she asked, waving her hand toward the football uniform that I still wore. I figured Miss Gilbert was the last friendly face I was likely to see for a while, so I just let the whole story rip. I told her everything, even about Kate helping me get into the locker room during lunch (but I didn’t mention Kate by name). Then I told her about all that had happened on the field, right down to Trevor Kenworth ratting me out to Coach Klutz. I did mention Trevor by name. He deserves it.

  For a few seconds Miss Gilbert just kept on smiling and shaking her head. “Wow,” she said. “Antonia, you have got some guts.” Teachers are so weird sometimes.

  “Am I in trouble?” I asked.

  Miss Gilbert laughed. “Oh, I’m willing to bet the answer to that is going to be yes. Let’s see, we’ve got you today on charges of breaking and entering, trespassing, theft, skipping class, and impersonating a male student.”

  I was frozen to my seat—stuck like a piece of chewing gum to the bottom of some kid’s shoe. Miss Gilbert laughed again as she knelt down in front of me. She cupped my dirt-stained face in her hands and then ruffled my knotted, sweaty hair. Two hours in a football helmet does not produce a soft, manageable mane. “I think we can get you off easy since these were crimes of passion,” she said, standing up again.

  “What’s a ‘crime of passion’?” I asked.

  She handed me a Kleenex. “A crime of passion is when you do something wrong, but it has been caused by strong emotions rather than a desire to be rebellious. You are guilty, yes, but I think we can find some mercy for you in this case.”

  I looked up to see Coach Klutz wander in. He leaned against the door and stood there looking at me.

  “Do I have to tell my parents?” I asked Miss Gilbert, trying not to look in Coach’s direction.

  “Let me ask you this,” she said. “How do you think it will go for you if they find out Monday morning through a phone call from Principal Butter?”

  I groaned. “The dog will get my bed and I’ll be sleeping on his little fleece thingy,” I answered, “…in his doghouse.”

  As I headed out the door I gave Miss Gilbert a silent nod. She was pretty cool, I guess. Coach Klutz was leaning against the door frame. He moved to let me through. “Sorry, Coach,” I said as I passed by him.

  Just when I got to my locker I heard the coach’s voice. “Hey, Diaz,” he said, and I turned to face him. “I’d like to find a way to fix this. I’m not sure I want to lose a player like you.”

  For just one second, everything was right with my world again. Maybe he would go to the school board for me—it would be a meeting of huge importance. I could see all of my classmates marching outside the boardroom with their picket signs.

  “Give Toni the boot! Let her kick for Rutherford B. Hayes!”

  “We want Toni and that’s no baloney!”

  But I saw one other picture in my fantasy that brought me crashing back to reality even faster than I ran my sprints today—I saw Mom and Dad sitting in the back of that same board meeting, frowns painted on their unhappy faces. They had a sign too: “They’ll pat you on the butt.”

  “Sorry, Coach.” I sighed. “I’m pretty sure I’ve blown any chance I had of playing football for you … at least with my mom and dad.”

  I started the longer-than-ever walk out to the curb where my mom always picks me up after school. My shoes felt like they were made of cement. This trip to the car was probably the last walk I would take as a free woman for a very long time. In fact, I am probably still going to be grounded on my fortieth birthday.

  My shadow disappeared from in front of me and I had to stop suddenly to keep from running into Trevor Kenworth and his greasy little sidekick, Bubba Bingam. It’s hard to believe that those two puny weasels could actually block the whole sidewalk, but they did.

  “Tough luck today, Diaz,” Trevor said.

  “Yeah, tough luck,” Bubba echoed.

  “You weren’t even there, Bubba,” I said. Bubba was about a fourth-string player on the school’s huge soccer team. He never gets to play. “But, hey, I hear the soccer team is thinking of using you as a spare ball this year.”

  “He may sit on the bench,” Trevor answered for Bubba, “but at least he’s on the team. Oh, and I made the football team. Did you hear that?”

  “Que bueno,” I said, knowing he didn’t understand Spanish. Where is my mom?

  “How about you, Diaz? You playing any football this year?” He sneered.

  Suddenly, before my very eyes, Trevor and Bubba were each lifted about one foot off the ground, their feet kicking slightly as they dangled helplessly in the hungry grip of the unseen monster behind them.

  “Hola, boys,” came the deep voice of Marcos. The terrified boys tried to turn their heads to see who it was that held them by the collar of their shirts, but Marcos was too strong.

  “They bugging you, Squirt?” Marcos asked me.

  “Nah, I can take care of them just fine,” I said, and Marcos winked at me.

  “Well, we need to get going. Say, where do you suppose we should dump these two punks?” Marcos said.

  I just smiled and shrugged. I had never seen Marcos like this before—usually I was the one dangling two feet off the ground.

  “Tell you what,” Marcos suggested. “I think we need to put them over here where they will be safe from harm.” Marcos moved toward some enormous bushes that tower like big ocean waves over a statue of our school mascot a few steps away from where we stood. He plopped one boy into each bush and then dusted off his hands.

  “I’m starved, Squirt, what do you say?” And then Marcos offered me his arm like we were headed off to prom together. I hooked my arm inside of his and we laughed all the way to his car.

  We laughed even harder as we pulled out of the school’s circle drive, watching Bubba, who managed to escape first, trying to pull Trevor out of the second bush. We couldn’t see Trevor’s head at all, only two legs sticking out at weird angles.

  Maybe this was going to be my last day of freedom. But Marcos made all of it bearable for me. Even if only for a day, Marcos stood up for me instead of rising up against me.

  Maybe if Marcos came to school with me Monday as my bodyguard, I wouldn’t be so afraid to face Principal Butter. I wasn’t looking forward to that at all.

  CHAPTER 4

  Detantion Blues … or Pinks

  It doesn’t surprise me that Miss Gilbert gave me a pink slip for three days of detention beginning this Wednesday. And it definitely doesn’t surprise me that my parents grounded me for like a gazillion years. What does surprise me is that somehow the story of my tryout and Trevor’s tattletale adventure has made it all around the school … and I am the hero! There are two petitions going around that have “Let Toni be a Shark!” printed across the top. I have never heard of most of the kids who have signed them. Both petitions insist that Trevor be removed from the team to make room for me.

  “So what’s the big idea, Diaz?” Trevor asked. He cornered me by the drinking fountain just before lunch.

  “What do you mean?” I have never noticed before that Trevor’s left eye twitches. It pulls his lip up into a weird crooked line.

  “Don’t play dumb,” Trevor said. “You’ve seen the petitions.”

  “Yeah, but that’s all,” I said. “I didn’t start them. And I didn’t sign them, either. ”

  “You need to stop them.” Trevor licked his lips and looked around nervously.

  “Trevor, I can’t stop what I didn’t start. And it doesn’t even matter, okay? My parents won’t let me play. You win.” I held up my pink slip for extra proof that this argument was pointless.

  “He
y, Toni—everything okay over here?” Smitty and Beast, two of the biggest eighth graders on the football team, walked over to where we stood.

  “Yeah, it’s fine, guys. We’re good.” I can’t believe Smitty and Beast even know my name. These guys are middle school football legends.

  “Get lost, weasel,” Beast said, towering over Trevor. “What are you going to do about it?” Trevor said. “Are you serious? Beast, did he just threaten you?” Smitty asked.

  Trevor didn’t hesitate. “I want the petitions gone.”

  “What petitions?” Beast asked, as if he didn’t know about them.

  “I made the team fair and square,” Trevor said.

  “You made the team because you ratted on Toni,” Smitty said. “She outplayed you and you were about to be cut. Is that fair and square?”

  “She can’t play!” Trevor was crying a little, and he raised his voice. A bunch of kids began to gather around, which was making me feel nervous. Trevor snatched the pink slip out of my hand and shoved it into Smitty’s face. “Look! I made the team! She got detention!”

  Beast snatched the slip from Trevor, flattening it back out against the leg of his jeans. He handed it to me without even looking at me.

  “Okay, Kenworth, how about we make a deal. We’ll get rid of the petitions and you can stay on the team—if you can prove you’re a man,” Beast said.

  “He’s twelve,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Meet us after lunch in the gym,” Beast said. “Hope those skinny little arms can do some pushups, Kenworth.”

  He nodded at me and, just like that, our little meeting ended. Most of the crowd followed Smitty and Beast like love-struck little girls. Trevor and I walked off in different directions.

  On my way to detention I watched the football team trudge out to the practice field in the rain. At least I’m not the only one who is having the worst week ever, I thought. Danika McAllister, one of the most popular girls in school, got detention for hitting Mrs. Hefty in the head with Purple Flurp, whatever that is. With a sigh, I entered day one of my detention assignment.

  Detention this week is in Mrs. V’s class. Mrs. Velasquez is probably the nicest teacher in the whole school. She doesn’t talk down to us like we are little kids. She makes us feel respected, like we have something important to say.

  “Hello, Toni,” she greeted me as I walked in the room. I smiled. “Your name came up at the teachers’ lunch table today.”

  No kid wants their name to come up at the teachers’ lunch table.

  “Someone presented us with a petition and asked if we would like to sign it,” she said.

  “Mrs. V, I’m sorry,” I offered.

  “Don’t be.” She winked at me. “I signed it. Oh, but I did add a note that Trevor has to be allowed to play as well.”

  It wasn’t until this moment that I realized Kate Harding was in the room with me. Danika was there, too, I guess for the Flurp thing. She should try out for softball this spring. It was a good throw, even though she says she didn’t mean to do it.

  Mrs. V signed my pink slip and told me I could sit anywhere in the room. “Make yourself at home,” she said, and smiled.

  “May I use a computer?” I asked. She nodded, and I leaned down to Kate on my way to grab a laptop. “You in here because of me?”

  “Nope. I did this all on my own,” she said. Kate always makes me smile.

  I logged on to my chat account and hoped as hard as I could that my big brother Milo was online. It’s killing me that I haven’t been able to talk to him about my football problems. Plus, I feel so bad about upsetting Mom and Dad. They almost cried while they were grounding me. I don’t know. Sometimes I just need my Milo.

  Seeing his chat icon pop up on the screen was even better than the fireworks at the Sky Pop fireworks show last Friday night. “Yes!” I said, a little louder than I wanted to, which made everyone in the room turn and look at me.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  Another girl had come in—I hear she’s from Africa somewhere. All the kids say she’s the one who pulled the fire alarm on Monday.

  By the time I looked back down, Milo had already noticed I was online.

  U Know Milo: Hey Chica, que pasa?

  T for Antonia: I’m in detention.

  U Know Milo: Mom and Dad told me. lol

  T for Antonia: Yeah, not funny. Can you believe how lame my life is?

  U Know Milo: Bad week. But hey, ur a soccer guru! Play on!

  T for Antonia: I don’t want to play sccr if I can’t play ftball.

  U Know Milo: Why not play a sport u can play your whole life?

  T for Antonia:???

  U Know Milo: Even if u play in H.S. u won’t play college ftball.

  T for Antonia: U siding w them?

  U Know Milo: Just looking out for my lil sis.

  T for Antonia: Way 2b there 4 me.

  U Know Milo: I’m the pres of your fan club, right?

  Milo’s right. He has always been my number one fan. He talked Mom out of making me enter the Miss Teeny Pop contest when I was five. He wears number 51 on his college basketball team because it’s my number. That’s why what I did next will probably haunt me for a long time.

  T for Antonia: Not anymore. U R FIRED!

  And I signed off.

  While I was staring at the screen in front of me, Kate and Danika walked over to Yuzi and me. Kate was really excited. “Toni! Yuzi! Do you want to be in a girls-only club with me and Danika?” That’s when I realized that “Yuzi” is the African girl’s name.

  “It’s gonna be totally cool. Right, Danika?” she said.

  “Totally!” Danika was excited, too. “We’re going to call it the Secret Keeper Girl Club! We’ll all promise to be true friends who don’t blab each other’s secrets to anyone else. Mrs. V even said we can have club meetings here in her art room Wednesdays after school.”

  “Soooo … what do ya think?” Kate asked hope fully.

  “Yeah, I’m in,” I said. I tried to smile, but I didn’t feel like it just yet.

  Milo ditched me, so here’s hoping these new friends won’t.

  CHAPTER 5

  I’ve Been Sharked

  What sort of alien forces have taken over my life? Seriously—my dad, who has been my lifelong football coach, has decided he does not want me playing the sport. My brother Marcos, who has always been such a bully, is super-supportive. And my big brother Milo, who is supposed to be my number one fan, has totally stabbed me in the back. The way things are going right now, I would not be surprised if Mrs. V suddenly sprouted a tall black pointy cap, began to laugh wickedly, and tried to pedal away with my dog in her bike basket.

  The best part of my week has been detention, since I got invited into the Secret Keeper Girls Club, I’ve never been in a girls’ club before, but it looks like this is going to be pretty cool, even though we’re all so … I don’t know. Different. Dad and Mom even said that since the SKG Club meetings are gonna be advised by a teacher, they wouldn’t be included in my grounding. Cool!

  Today I was telling Mrs. V about my football woes when the other girls came bouncing into the room. Yuzi joined me at Mrs. V’s desk. I found out she’s not actually from Africa. She was born in the United States just like me. But her parents are Nigerian.

  “May I sit with you?” she asked as she approached the desk. Yuzi says everything properly—the way teachers are always trying to get the rest of us to talk, only Yuzi does it naturally. Mrs. V smiled and I patted a space on the countertop next to me. Yuzi eagerly jumped up and sat with her legs crossed beside me.

  “So, Toni, you were saying?” Mrs. V asked, turning back toward me. I saw Yuzi’s eyebrows narrow like she was concentrating very hard on what I was going to say.

  I picked up the paintbrush I had been playing with earlier, tickling myself under the chin as we talked. “So,” I continued, “I have no idea what I am going to do until basketball season starts. I don’t know if I’m good at anything besides sp
orts.” I looked up at the fluorescent lights and continued to run the paintbrush along the side of my neck. It sent shivers down my arms.

  “I want to find out if there’s anything else out there,” I said, “but every time I think about it, I get stuck. I don’t know where to start!”

  Suddenly I saw Yuzi fold in two laughing, and her whole body rocked back and forth. Mrs. V covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes big and round. “Wow, Toni!” was all I heard from Kate in the back of the room, and Danika stared at me with her mouth open wide enough for a truck to drive through.

  At that very moment I realized there was a sensation of cold and wet upon my neck. “Um, I just painted myself, didn’t I?” I looked down to see the clean paintbrush I was holding earlier sticking out from underneath Yuzi’s leg, while in my hand I held a large brush covered with bright orange paint.

  “Yessss!” Yuzi squealed loudly, while the rest of the room erupted in laughter. I jumped off the counter and began to chase Kate and Danika with the orange paintbrush, while Yuzi and Mrs. V pretended to hide behind the desk for protection.

  Mrs. V sent me to the girls’ bathroom to get myself cleaned up. As I passed by the main offices, Principal Butter burst through the glass doors and stopped directly in front of me. “Miss Diaz, aren’t you serving your second day of detention this afternoon?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered. I had a difficult time stopping the giggles that were bubbling up inside of me. I imagined painting something on the perfect canvas of Principal Butter’s shiny bald head. Maybe our school mascot, Sharkey.

  “Do you find detention amusing, Miss Diaz?” Principal Butter frowned.

  “No, sir.” I still fought the giggles. “I just really need to get this paint washed off before it dries.”

  I pictured a fat, drooling Saint Bernard painted on the top of his head.

  “It tickles, sir,” I blurted in a fit of giggles. “Please, may I go?”

  Principal Butter stepped to the side to let me go, and I could hear him calling after me as I entered the bathroom. By this time I was roaring at the thought of a big, blue M&M guy right on the top of Principal Butter’s head. “No more painting in detention, Miss Diaz! This is not meant to be a holiday for you!”