grils—or the other teams, for that matter. Not now
that you’re… enhanced.”
“I’m not
taking steroids!” she insisted. “This is ridiculous!”
“I’m sorry,”
he told her. “The decision is final.”
She grabbed
her stick hard enough to make the fiberglass creak and then took her mouthguard
out of her pocket. “Here,” she said, and shoved it in the coach’s hand. “I
wouldn’t want anyone to think I was stealing school property. You can have my
stick if you can find it.”
“It’s in your
hand,” the coach said, looking puzzled.
She spun from
the waist and flung it into the sky. It would probably land in the next town
over. “Whoops,” she said.
“Maggie!” he
said, suddenly angry. “What did I teach you about self-control?”
“I can’t
remember. It must have been the day I wasn’t paying attention—the same
day you gave us the speech on how everyone should get a chance to play.” She
pushed past him and walked down the line of her former fellow players, trying
to get a reaction out of any of them. Hoping at least one of them would
protest, or even just say they felt bad. The only one who would look at her
was Jill.
“Maybe they
need someone in the pep squad,” Jill suggested.
Maggie told
her exactly what she could go and do.
Chapter 14.
“Okay,” Lucy
said, quietly. “That’s the guy. You see him?”
They were
sitting on a hill overlooking the school parking lot. Classes had let out a
few minutes ago and normally Brent would be on his bus headed home but Lucy had
assured him this would be worth his while. He wasn’t so sure yet. “Yeah, I
see him just fine.” Lucy had brought a pair of binoculars and had pointed out
a kid, just a freshman, walking along the edge of the parking lot. Brent could
see him just fine—apparently his eyesight had been improved as well as
his physical strength. The kid had his head ducked down and his arms were
around his backpack as if someone might try to steal it from him. He looked
scared.
“Now—the
target. He’s coming up from the gap in the fence, there.”
The target was
a senior. Brent knew him, or at least he’d been pointed out to Brent very
early on when he got to high school. It was Matt Perkins, the notorious bully.
Perkins was overweight and not particularly tall. He had hair that fell down
over his eyes and bad teeth. For the last two years he’d been preying on the
incoming freshman class, always choosing one or two new kids to pick on. He
would harass them until he grew bored and then he would pick a new one and
start in on them. He’d never bothered Brent—Perkins only went after the
scrawny kids, the little ones who couldn’t fight back.
“You want me
to beat him up?” Brent asked. He had to admit the idea was kind of exciting.
“Yeah, but you
have to do this right. He has to know why he’s getting beat down,” Lucy
explained. “He has to know it isn’t cool to prey on little kids.”
Brent frowned.
“Hey,” he said. “This isn’t personal, is it?”
“I don’t know
what you mean,” Lucy said. “If you’re trying to suggest something, such as, I
don’t know, maybe last year Perkins and I had a run in, you know, maybe he
shook me down for my lunch money every day for three weeks in a row, and maybe
he knocked me down and I couldn’t exactly fight back with these braces on my
legs, well—no. That has nothing to do with anything.”
“Uh-huh.
Okay. They’re about to cross paths.”
“Good luck,”
Lucy said, and squeezed his bicep. “Go be a hero.”
Down in the
parking lot Perkins was leaning against the side of a car, smiling so hard his
teeth flashed in the sunlight. The freshman was trying to back away but Brent
knew exactly how this was going to happen. If the freshman ran, Perkins could
chase him down easily. If he stood his ground Perkins would just beat him up.
The kid didn’t have a chance.
Which was
where Brent came in. Right? He knew that was how it was supposed to
that you’re… enhanced.”
“I’m not
taking steroids!” she insisted. “This is ridiculous!”
“I’m sorry,”
he told her. “The decision is final.”
She grabbed
her stick hard enough to make the fiberglass creak and then took her mouthguard
out of her pocket. “Here,” she said, and shoved it in the coach’s hand. “I
wouldn’t want anyone to think I was stealing school property. You can have my
stick if you can find it.”
“It’s in your
hand,” the coach said, looking puzzled.
She spun from
the waist and flung it into the sky. It would probably land in the next town
over. “Whoops,” she said.
“Maggie!” he
said, suddenly angry. “What did I teach you about self-control?”
“I can’t
remember. It must have been the day I wasn’t paying attention—the same
day you gave us the speech on how everyone should get a chance to play.” She
pushed past him and walked down the line of her former fellow players, trying
to get a reaction out of any of them. Hoping at least one of them would
protest, or even just say they felt bad. The only one who would look at her
was Jill.
“Maybe they
need someone in the pep squad,” Jill suggested.
Maggie told
her exactly what she could go and do.
Chapter 14.
“Okay,” Lucy
said, quietly. “That’s the guy. You see him?”
They were
sitting on a hill overlooking the school parking lot. Classes had let out a
few minutes ago and normally Brent would be on his bus headed home but Lucy had
assured him this would be worth his while. He wasn’t so sure yet. “Yeah, I
see him just fine.” Lucy had brought a pair of binoculars and had pointed out
a kid, just a freshman, walking along the edge of the parking lot. Brent could
see him just fine—apparently his eyesight had been improved as well as
his physical strength. The kid had his head ducked down and his arms were
around his backpack as if someone might try to steal it from him. He looked
scared.
“Now—the
target. He’s coming up from the gap in the fence, there.”
The target was
a senior. Brent knew him, or at least he’d been pointed out to Brent very
early on when he got to high school. It was Matt Perkins, the notorious bully.
Perkins was overweight and not particularly tall. He had hair that fell down
over his eyes and bad teeth. For the last two years he’d been preying on the
incoming freshman class, always choosing one or two new kids to pick on. He
would harass them until he grew bored and then he would pick a new one and
start in on them. He’d never bothered Brent—Perkins only went after the
scrawny kids, the little ones who couldn’t fight back.
“You want me
to beat him up?” Brent asked. He had to admit the idea was kind of exciting.
“Yeah, but you
have to do this right. He has to know why he’s getting beat down,” Lucy
explained. “He has to know it isn’t cool to prey on little kids.”
Brent frowned.
“Hey,” he said. “This isn’t personal, is it?”
“I don’t know
what you mean,” Lucy said. “If you’re trying to suggest something, such as, I
don’t know, maybe last year Perkins and I had a run in, you know, maybe he
shook me down for my lunch money every day for three weeks in a row, and maybe
he knocked me down and I couldn’t exactly fight back with these braces on my
legs, well—no. That has nothing to do with anything.”
“Uh-huh.
Okay. They’re about to cross paths.”
“Good luck,”
Lucy said, and squeezed his bicep. “Go be a hero.”
Down in the
parking lot Perkins was leaning against the side of a car, smiling so hard his
teeth flashed in the sunlight. The freshman was trying to back away but Brent
knew exactly how this was going to happen. If the freshman ran, Perkins could
chase him down easily. If he stood his ground Perkins would just beat him up.
The kid didn’t have a chance.
Which was
where Brent came in. Right? He knew that was how it was supposed to
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