Eager Star by Dandi Daley Mackall Page A

little green men.
    Uncrumpling a list from his pocket, Dad dialed the phone. “Just pretend I’m not here,” he told us. He stiffened when he said into the receiver, “Hello there! How are you?” Silence. “Well, I hope it’s a fine dinner! The reason I’m calling is that you’ve been selected to receive—” he frowned at the phone—“hello?”
    Lizzy served seconds as Dad dialed another number. “Hello there! How are you? Could I have just three minutes of your time that could change the rest of your life?” Silence.
    â€œI know that voice!” Sal whispered. “Cell phones! He called our house at dinner!”
    â€œOh, dinner won’t cool in three short—” Dad hung up and sighed.
    Lizzy’s pizza stuck in my throat. “Dad, could you hold off until we finish eating?”
    â€œWhat?” Dad narrowed his eyes at me, then glanced at Sal. “Oh . . . sure. No problem.”
    I sighed and finished my pizza. Lizzy did most of the talking, with Hawk chiming in now and then.
    The minute Sal finished her fourth piece of pizza, she stood up. “Delicious, Lizzy! My brother was right about you.” She smiled at me. “I had a nice time, Winnie. Thanks for asking me.”
    â€œHad?” I asked, feeling tears swell in the back of my head and press against my eyeballs.
    â€œI’m sorry.” Sal wiped her mouth with the thin napkin. “I have to leave. I’ve . . . had a change of plans.”
    â€œYou can’t!” Lizzy cried. “I made brownies!”
    â€œThey smell great! Can I take one with? Two?”
    I knew the second one was for Summer. If I could have slipped a dozen laxatives into those brownies, I would have.
    Sal scooped the brownies into her napkin. Then she dashed into my room as if rescuing her backpack from a blazing fire.
    â€œVictoria,” she called, backing toward the front door. Did she think we’d jump her the minute her back was turned? “See you at school? You too, Winnie?” Sal stumbled, reached behind her for the screen door, and got away.
    I was an idiot to think I could be part of their herd! Hawk’s head was bowed so I couldn’t see her face. “You have a change of plans too, Hawk?”
    Hawk lifted her chin. Peter zoomed to the fridge. “Squawk! Change of plans! Change of plans!”
    Lizzy chuckled. Hawk grinned. It was just what we needed to break the tension. The fight went out of me.
    The rest of the night we just hung out. We visited the horses. Hawk taught Lizzy and me about the markings Native American warriors used to paint on their warhorses.
    I fell asleep on the floor next to Lizzy’s whistling snore, with the sound of a whippoorwill so close it could have been in the room with us.

    In my dream, someone was knocking. I woke up to the tat, tat, tat of woodpeckers and Peter perched on the windowsill. I was in mid-yawn when I came to my senses. Saturday! The barrel race is today!
    I wanted to ride, needed to ride. It took two minutes for me to wake Hawk, get dressed, and tiptoe out.
    We rode into the sunrise, with Hawk naming every bird by its song: “Flutest wren, oriole, purple martin.”
    Towaco behaved perfectly for Hawk. All my hard work was paying off.
    We’d turned around on a country road and skirted back through the sleeping town when I heard my name called.
    â€œWinnie!” Mr. Baines drove up beside me. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Lizzy said you were riding.”
    I flashed back to the day I’d lost Towaco. “Is something wrong?”
    â€œSomething’s right! ” He looked like he’d already won the race. “I want you to race Grant’s horse!”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œSpidell admitted the race determines which of us got the better horse—nothing to do with the rider. Besides, I could tell he thinks I’m making a big mistake