Odd Girl In

by Jo Whittemore

  “What are you going to use to hold the spark until the wood catches on fire?” asked Dad.

  “I’ve got just the thing.” Parker held up his copy of The Secrets of Success, and Nick and I laughed. “She did say it would come in handy outside of class.”

  “Clever … but no,” said Dad, smirking. “You won’t have access to paper at the competition.”

  “There’ll be leaves and pine needles on the ground,” said Parker. “We’ll use the paper for practice.”

  “All right, but let’s also make sure we stay out of Mr. McGuire’s sight,” Dad said. “The last thing we need is for him to think I’m teaching you how to commit arson.”

  I turned to face Dad. “You’re going to help us?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not a wilderness expert, but I’ve had to start a few fires from scratch so I can give you some pointers. Unless you want to do it on your own.”

  “No, we’d like you to be there,” said Parker with a smile.

  For the next few hours, Dad showed us how to strike the flint and get a good flame going. Nick was excellent at getting the sparks to fly, and Parker, being so full of hot air, could blow on the embers to create flames. I, of course, proved to be the most valuable, stacking the wood so it would burn just right and providing the marshmallows for toasting.

  When Dad finally decided to retreat to his office, I searched the internet for the Sandhurst competition and showed it to my brothers.

  “That doesn’t look too bad,” said Nick.

  “Yeah, if we’re with those guys,” Parker nodded at the army platoon running the course. “Somehow I don’t see us climbing a vertical wall in ten seconds.”

  “All we really have to do is complete the obstacles and start the fire,” said Nick. “We’re not required to take first place.”

  Parker and I stared aghast at him until he nodded.

  “Yeah, okay. I want to win too.”

  “Trevor and Chloe have been training,” I said. “Maybe we could try that.”

  “When?” asked Nick. “I’ve got football tomorrow night, and Saturday we’ll be busy with the hockey scrimmage. Then the championship’s on Sunday.”

  I bit my lip. We’d be going into the contest blind, with Nick as our only muscle, unless Parker had something hidden up his sleeve … or in his hair.

  “We’ll get through it,” said Nick, noticing the worried look on my face.

  “I know,” I said. “I just don’t want you to have to carry me and Parker.”

  “I don’t mind if you carry me,” Parker told him. “It’ll be good servant training for you.”

  Nick gave him a wry smile. “Since we can’t actually practice on a real course, why don’t we at least talk about how we’d deal with these obstacles?”

  And up until bedtime, that’s what we did.

  My biggest fear was that Nick would injure himself in his football game, but thankfully, he made it through safe and sound. On Saturday morning, he, Parker, and I got to The Iceman early so we could set up for the scrimmage. Or rather, so Nick and I could set up while Parker complained about how the cold was affecting his “athlete’s legs.”

  “You don’t have ‘athlete’s legs,’” I told him, filling a water cooler and hefting it onto a table. “You barely have chicken’s legs.”

  “For your information, the chicken is related to the Tyrannosaurus rex,” said Parker.

  “Which had no upper body strength,” I said, giving him a quick once-over. “What a strange coincidence.”

  Nick appeared and handed me a set of keys.

  “What are these for?” I asked.

  “The rink gates.” He pointed to the huge iron gates that wrapped around each rink like a cage. “Hang on tight to them. I’m going to see who’s playing today.”

  While we waited, I figured I might as well open one of the rinks, so I walked over to a padlock and searched for the matching key.

  “Here, let me help.” Parker snatched the keys away. “You’ll put the wrong one in and get it stuck.”

  “No, I won’t!” I jerked the key ring out of his hands, but my fingers were still slippery and wet from filling the water cooler. The keys flew into the air … and through the bars of the locked gate.

  For a moment, Parker and I just stood there, watching as the keys hit the ice with a metallic clink. Then the horrible reality of the situation struck me.

  We’d lost our one way of getting into the rink.

  “No!” I cried, lunging forward and reaching through the bars. The keys were still several yards out of my reach.

  I wheeled on Parker. “Look what you did!”

  “Me?!” He crossed his arms. “I’ve got the legs of a chicken and the upper body of a T. rex. I hardly think I’m capable.”

  “Ohhh, this can’t be happening!” I put my arm through the gate again and waved it back and forth, grabbing nothing but air.

  “If you’re trying to fly, I’d give it a go with both arms,” said Parker.

  “Shut up!” I grabbed a spare hockey stick off the rack and slid it between the grates, thrusting it at the keys, which promptly slid farther away. I pointed at Parker. “Don’t … say … a … word.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Nick.

  He came toward us, followed by a sizable crowd of players wielding hockey sticks. Parker stepped into their line of sight so the keys weren’t visible, and I grabbed Nick’s arm and pulled him away.

  “We can’t get into the rink!” I whispered.

  “What? I just gave you the keys!” he said.

  I pointed onto the ice and Nick sighed.

  “So the phrase ‘hang on tight’ means nothing to you?”

  I wrung my hands together and glanced past him to the crowd. “What are we going to do?”

  “Let me think,” he said, rubbing his chin.

  Parker laughed, but when Nick frowned at him, he stopped.

  “Sorry. I thought you were joking.”

  Nick glanced at the hockey equipment and then at the players. “Alex, get everyone’s chewing gum.”

  I tilted my head to one side. “Excuse me?”

  “Almost all of these guys are chewing gum. Get them to spit it into your palm.”

  “Ugh!” I tucked both hands under my armpits. “Let’s just buy ice from the market and put it in a kiddie pool. They can play on that.”

  “Alex … the gum,” said Nick with a no-nonsense frown.

  “Fine,” I groaned.

  “Parker, help me get some skate laces.”

  “Uh, okay.” Parker’s confused look carried over to the players as I made them spit their gum into my hand while Nick asked a few to unlace their skates.

  When he had enough laces, he tied them end-to-end and then to the grill of a hockey mask. After that, he placed gum all around the back edges of the mask and tested the weight in his hand. Stepping up to the gate around the rink, he flung the mask through the bars and past the keys.

  The mask landed on the ice, but because it fell gum-side down, it didn’t skid out of control. Pulling on the skate laces, Nick dragged the mask back toward him. The front of it caught the keys and Nick was able to reel them in.

  I gaped in amazement as he jingled the keys in front of me. “Ta-da!”

  “That … that was awesome!” I said. “How did you even think to put that stuff together?”

  He shrugged and unlocked the gate. “Just resourceful, I guess.”

  We returned everyone’s skate laces (nobody wanted their gum back), and the players took to the ice to practice. My brothers and I sat in the bleachers, and a crowd filled in around us. I started to feel a warmth growing inside me, but it wasn’t because of the mass of bodies. I was slowly realizing just how amazing my brothers were … and that we might actually have a fighting chance against Chloe and her crew.

  Chapter 15

  Sunday morning, my brothers and I received the air horn alarm clock experience again, but since Dad started at the other end of the hall, I simply
pulled the covers over my head and rolled over.

  “Wake up, Champ!” crowed a female voice.

  Clearly not my dad.

  I flipped over to see a gigantic star standing beside my bed.

  “Augh!” I screamed and scooted against the wall.

  “Alexis!” boomed Ms. Success. Her face, painted yellow, peeked out from the center of the star. “So nice of you to join the world of the living.” She waddled to my window and drew back the curtains.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “What … what are you doing here besides bringing my worst nightmare to life?”

  Emily at least had the common courtesy to stick to the hedges outside. Maybe this was part of the Champs course, hand-to-hand combat in my pajamas with the teacher. Or maybe all this time she’d secretly been dating …

  “Dad!” I screamed.

  Ms. Success winced and wiggled a star-point finger in her ear. “Wonderful set of lungs, Alexis. Save ’em for the course.”

  Footsteps thundered down the hall, and Nick and Parker ran into my room.

  “Alex, what’s … woah!” Nick stopped short at seeing Ms. Success. “Hey, uh, Coach.”

  “This used to be such a normal place.” Parker brought his hands to his head.

  Ms. Success clucked her tongue. “Traditionally I get a better response when I visit students.”

  “So this isn’t your first home invasion?” I asked, drawing my blankets up.

  Dad appeared behind Nick and Parker, smiling. “Oh, good. I see you got your wake-up call.”

  Parker turned to face him. “You let her in?”

  “What else did you expect?” asked Ms. Success. “That I’d rappel off the roof and come crashing through a window like SWAT?”

  “Okay, but why are you here?” I asked.

  “It’s a tradition for me to visit students on championship day, make sure they’re fit for competition, and wish them good luck,” she said, giving me a star’s version of a thumbs-up. “So good luck!” She swiveled to show the thumb to my brothers.

  “Uh, thanks.” Nick mirrored her gesture and elbowed Parker to do the same.

  “Alex?” Dad prompted from behind them.

  I forced my thumb into the air. “You couldn’t have sent a fruit basket instead?”

  “Who says I didn’t?” She winked at me and headed for the door. “It was nice to see you kids. I’m glad you sleep in pajamas.” She winced. “I wasn’t so lucky at the last house.”

  Nick and Parker stepped aside so she could pass through, and Dad walked Ms. Success downstairs.

  “Amazing,” said Parker, shaking his head. “This goes right behind ‘covered in bees’ as the worst way to wake up.”

  We dressed in our Champs T-shirts and athletic shorts, and went downstairs for breakfast. Sure enough, there was a fruit basket sitting in the center of the kitchen table.

  “Well, that at least was nice of her,” said Nick. He pulled a banana out of the basket, along with a small white card. “‘To Sharon,” he read, “I had fun on our date. Paul.’”

  Nick lifted his head. “She gave us used fruit.”

  “And coffee filters, for some reason,” said Dad, holding them up.

  My brothers and I grinned at each other.

  “Well, my thanks to Paul,” said Parker, grabbing an apple and biting into it. “Although we need some real fuel for today.”

  “I’m one step ahead of you,” said Dad, balancing three plates on his arm. They were laden with eggs, fried potatoes, bacon, and toast.

  “Wow,” said Nick. “So what are Alex and Parker going to eat?”

  The three of us sat and tucked into our meals while Dad brought over orange juice and chocolate milk. He took his chair at the head of the table and smiled as he watched us.

  Parker stopped mid-chew. “I feel like it’s feeding time at the zoo.”

  Dad leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. “I just wanted to say that I’m very proud of the three of you. You’ve come further than I thought possible, individually and as a team.”

  “As a family,” I corrected him.

  Dad smiled and kissed my forehead. “You’re right.”

  I smirked at my brothers. “Put that one in the record books.”

  “We’re proud of you too, Dad,” said Parker, turning a little red.

  Dad cocked his head. “Why’s that?”

  “Well … because since we started Champs, you’ve been there for us a lot more than you used to be.”

  Dad’s face fell.

  “I mean you’re always there,” Parker corrected quickly. “And we appreciate it.”

  “Yeah. Except now we get bonus time,” said Nick.

  Dad shook his head. “You’re right. And you were right when you first said it a few weeks ago. I’m not there enough.”

  “You do great,” I said. “Considering you’ve had to raise us on your own.”

  “Yeah, we’re not on drugs or covered in tattoos,” said Parker. “And Alex only has one felony under her belt so far.”

  “Lighting the neighbor’s couch on fire wasn’t a felony,” I pointed out. “The courts would call it criminal mischief.”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “How disturbing that you know that.”

  “The point,” said Nick, “is that you’re a way better parent than certain others, who shall remain nameless, ever were.”

  Guilt tugged at the corner of my mind, remembering my voice mail to Mom, but I simply nodded in agreement.

  “Thank you for that sentiment.” Dad scraped his chair back. “And now, I’ve got presents for the three of you.”

  He disappeared into his office and returned with a small plastic bag. “Sorry I didn’t wrap them,” he said, plunking the bag between us on the table.

  Parker grabbed it and pulled out a shiny, red Swiss Army knife.

  “Cool,” said Nick, reaching into the bag and pulling out the same.

  “It’s the Ranger version,” said Dad. “I checked with Ms. Success, and it’s completely legal to use in the competition.”

  Nick pulled at the bits of metal tucked away. “We’ve got scissors, a saw…. Oh yeah, this’ll definitely come in handy.” He passed the bag to me. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Dad nodded. “I just want you all to do your best.”

  “We will,” I said, giving him a hug.

  “And I’ll still be proud of you no matter what place you get,” he said. “As long as it’s not last.”

  We laughed and finished breakfast, then left the house a little late after Parker (and his hair) realized people might be taking pictures. Since we were the last team to arrive at the championship, that was where Ms. Success placed us for competing order. Unfortunately, we still couldn’t see the obstacle course since it was surrounded by a forest of pine trees.

  Emily was there, too, standing by herself with a murderous look in her eyes. I walked over to greet her, but she stopped me when I was still a few feet away.

  “As championship co-coordinator, I’m not allowed to talk to any of the competitors,” she said, frowning. “Even if it’s to tell them to stop drooling all over my crush.”

  She nodded toward a group of kids, among them Trevor and Chloe. Chloe was giggling and leaning against Trevor.

  “She’s touching him,” said Emily. “Nothing is that funny that she needs to touch him.”

  “Maybe one of her ankles is bad and he’s helping her stand,” I said. “I mean, that would make me feel better.”

  Emily’s ponytail whipped from side to side as she shook her head. “I saw her warming up earlier. She’s in top form.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Sorry.”

  “Well, I’m sure everything will be okay,” I said. “If you want, I’ll go check it out.”

  Emily’s angry expression relaxed. “Would you?”

  “Sure. And if one of her ankles isn’t bad, I can change that,” I said.

  Emily stiffened and stared straight ahead. “As championship co-coordinator, I cannot a
pprove of violence toward another player.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It was a joke. I won’t lay a finger on her.”

  “If you do,” Emily whispered, “make sure it’s just to push her away from Trevor.”

  She resumed her wooden stance while I trotted over to my Champs classmates. Everyone greeted me, except Chloe of course, and went back to talking about their fund-raising and game strategy.

  “So are you and your brothers ready?” asked Trevor, pulling me slightly to the side.

  Chloe was talking to one of the other girls, but her eyes were on me.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “We’ve got the fire-making down and we’ve planned out how we’ll approach almost any obstacle.”

  “That’s good,” said Trevor. “Chloe’s been pretty much running the show for us, so as long as we do what she says, it’ll be great!” He smiled, but his teeth barely showed.

  “She’s not much of a team player, is she?” I asked.

  He dropped the happy act. “She is … if it’s a team of one.”

  “That sounds like her,” I said. “But at least you guys already know what you’re up against.”

  “I don’t think it’ll matter,” he said. “Ms. Success wouldn’t let us be a team of two so we had to invite Shelly.”

  “Then you have an extra player to help you! That’s …” I saw the sour look on his face. “That’s not good?”

  “Shelly practiced with us on Friday and Saturday.” Trevor stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. “And I kept waiting for the mother ship to come and whisk her back to her home planet. She’s a total space cadet.”

  “Why? She doesn’t follow the leader?”

  “Oh, she follows just fine,” said Trevor. “When the leader’s a butterfly or squirrel.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I knew Trevor was making jokes to cover up his disappointment.

  “Sorry,” I said again. I noticed Ms. Success stepping onto a tree stump, with her whistle and clipboard in hand. “I should probably get back to my brothers. Good luck in there.”

  “You too,” said Trevor.

  I hurried over to my family, giving Emily an encouraging nod. From the way Trevor talked, she didn’t have anything to worry about.

  Ms. Success blew a trill note on her whistle, and the Champs gathered around with their parents.