A Girl by Any Other Name by Mk Schiller Page A

or even talk really except for my family.
    The thing was that particular song was infectious. Mandy and Sylvie were singing and I added
    my less than harmonious voice to theirs. My mother joined us next, squeezing Sylvie’s shoulder in
    appreciation. Then more people came, standing around the piano and lending their voices. Someone
    took my father’s guitar off the hook and started strumming along. We misquoted some of McLean’s
    poetic lyrics, and we were definitely no show choir, but in that moment, I totally got what my dad
    always said about music having the ability to heal. I stared at the beautiful girl with the long cinnamon
    hair and eyes so deep you could fall right into them.
    She was more than my friend. She was my family.
    I could admit it to myself finally, even if I didn’t have the courage to tell her.
    I loved Sylvie Cranston with all my heart.
    Chapter Eight
    Excerpt from Raven Girl
    Age 15
    “Cal, you are such an idiot!” Sylvie said for the twentieth time since we’d been walking home
    from school.
    “It’s not a big deal, Sylvie.”
    “Not a big deal? Look at your face.”
    “You should have seen his,” I said with a cocky smile.
    She stopped and shook her head at me. “Why did you get into a fight with Nate?”
    “He deserved it.”
    “Y’all are best friends.”
    “Girl, you’re so cute when you try to sound Southern.”
    She squared her shoulders in a stance I recognized as pissed-off Sylvie mode. “But you’re
    wrong,” I said, tugging on one of her pigtails. “He’s not my best friend. You are.” She shook her head
    at me, but I could see the smile curling at the edges of her beautiful mouth.
    “Are they going to suspend you? Oh, my God, are you going to get kicked off the team for this?”
    “Are you on crack? We’re in Texas and I’m the reason we’re in the state championships. They
    are not going to kick me off the team. They care more about us winning than Nate’s busted nose.”
    I hadn’t thought I could play football after my dad’s death. The whole town had rallied around
    me, trying to persuade me, but it had been her encouragement that had made it possible. Everyone was
    saying I had to play for my dad—it was too much pressure, until Sylvie told me that I should just play
    for myself like I always did. My dad would be proud no matter what happened.
    That was just what I did. I played for me. It also helped that she was at every game, cheering me
    on next to Momma and Mandy. It was exactly what I needed for a confidence boost, but I was a little
    too cocky to admit all that. I think she knew just the same.
    “I can’t believe you didn’t get in trouble.”
    “Principal Sherman said he’s not even going to tell Momma. Nate’s parents won’t either.”
    “Why not?”
    I shrugged. “I’m the kid who lost his dad. I’m getting a lot of free passes these days. Everyone
    thinks I’m just acting out.”
    “Is that why you hit him? Did he say something about your dad?”
    I got quiet, not sure if I should tell her. I readjusted our backpacks, one on each shoulder. She
    reached out for hers, but I took a step back. I always carried her backpack when we walked home
    together. Today was no different. “No, we just had a disagreement,” I replied, hoping it was enough
    to stop her interrogation. It wasn’t.
    “What kind of disagreement would cause you to pummel another kid like that? You could have
    gotten hurt. You risked injuring yourself before the championship game. What the hell was worth all
    that?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    She narrowed her eyes at me, staring me up and down, as if she could find the truth by studying
    my body language. Hell, she probably could. “He said something about me, didn’t he?”
    Bingo. “It’s not a big deal.”
    “What did he say, Tex? Spit it out and don’t lie.” She stood on her tippy toes as if trying to
    intimidate me. It was funny because she only came up to my chest either way. She