The Impossible Race: Cragbridge Hall, Volume 3 by Chad Morris Page A

strolled out onto the dance floor with her. Carol looked back at Abby over the boy’s shoulder and mouthed the words “Awkwardly waddling,” and gave a thumbs-up.
    Again a boy approached the group, and again he chose someone other than Abby. Then another. Soon Abby was the only one left. She didn’t know whether to stand there and hope someone would come, or pretend she needed a drink or to go to the bathroom. She looked around. With no boy prospects in sight, she started toward the door.
    And then she saw Jacqueline, her former roommate who had kicked her out of their room when she found out her grandfather had helped get Abby into the school. Jacqueline was dancing with a boy who looked a year or so older, maybe fourteen or fifteen. Jacqueline’s eyes met Abby’s and she led the boy toward her former roommate. “Hey, Abby,” Jacqueline said, her black hair sleek and perfect, her smile beaming with teeth whiter than natural.
    “Hey, Jacqueline,” Abby responded.
    Jacqueline looked around. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
    She wanted Abby to say it. Abby wished she could think of something clever to say, something that would send Jacqueline right back out on the dance floor, but she couldn’t think of anything. She shrugged. “I didn’t get invited.” She forced herself to look directly at Jacqueline and not let her eyes fall toward the floor. She hoped she didn’t look embarrassed.
    “Huh,” Jacqueline said, feigning surprise. “Better luck next time.” She sounded nice enough, but the boy was listening. She turned with the boy to go back out to the dance floor, but when he was a couple of steps ahead of her and out of earshot, Jacqueline turned back. “The boys are smart here, Abby. They can tell what you are. I wouldn’t expect any invites anytime soon.” She flipped her hair and rejoined the boy.
    Why did she have to do that? Abby felt bad enough, but now she didn’t know whether to clench her teeth in anger, or her eyes to keep them from crying. She stepped out into the hall and didn’t come back in until she heard the music start to fade.
    Please, no more slow dances for a while.
    The band on the beach faded, but nothing immediately replaced it. Abby and Carol found each other next to the refreshment table. The crowd started to grow restless.
    An announcer’s voice finally broke the silence. “Here to announce this year’s competition are two of your student body officers, Sarah Ani and Landon Beane.”
    The crowd cheered as Sarah walked out onto the stage. She was several years older than Abby and wearing the blue blazer of Cragbridge Hall with a class officer patch beside her lapel. She had short, dark, hair and wore a super-cute peach skirt. Abby wanted one just like it. “Are you ready for the announcement?” Sarah asked, her voice amplified by a small microphone sticker she wore on her cheek. She cupped her hand to her ear. The crowd answered with a burst of noise. She seemed very confident in front of the audience.
    Landon came running out onto the stage, raising his hands in the air to get the crowd to scream louder. It definitely worked. He wore a similar blazer and had blond, spiky hair.
    Then image after image flashed on screens throughout the room. A falcon flying through the sky. A boy hooked up to an avatar suit. Someone climbing a mountain in the Arctic. A robot moving vertically up a wall. A group of students running from a furious giant in someone’s virtual world. Someone riding a horse beside an army of Roman soldiers. “These are images of the Race from years past,” Landon explained. “But who is ready for this year’s challenge?” Again the crowd erupted.
    “It is time,” Sarah took over, “to introduce this . . . year’s . . . Race !” She pronounced each of the last words with great power and enthusiasm.
    Abby twisted her hair into a ponytail. Everyone else seemed thrilled, but Abby’s heart pounded for a different reason. Was Muns’s plan about to