principal, and the sophomore in charge of Arts and Entertainment hadn't written a word on either the new video competition or the fall play. The newspaper couldn't come out until those articles were completed. Every time I saw Alyssa she'd complain to me: "You're the only one I can count on."
Â
The girls had lost to Inglemoor on Saturday to drop their league record to 8â3. Inglemoor was the defending league champion, so it wasn't a bad loss, but they would have to beat North Shore to get back on track. Contenders or pretendersâThursday's game would provide the answer.
I found a seat at the top of the gym. Kimi was courtside, camera in hand. As I watched the warm-ups, it all looked familiar. Terri Calvo, Loaloa Toloto, and Chelsea Braker were huddled together. The same was true of Erica Stricker, Rachel Black, and Marianne Flagler. If they hadn't been wearing the same uniforms, you'd have thought they were opponents.
North Shore jumped ahead early in the first game, scoring six straight on a series of spike serves that had the back line totally flustered. The streak of aces started the Lincoln girls sniping at one another, and they kept sniping the rest of the match. The one good thing was that it ended quicklyâthe trouncing took just over an hour.
I stood and looked over the court for Kimi, thinking she might want to go to Peet's to talk over our plan one last time. I spotted her huddled by the door with Marianne and Rachel, both of whom were near tears. No doubt the three of them would be going off together. I started down out of the bleachers, my eyes on my feet to keep myself from tumbling like Humpty Dumpty.
When I reached the court, I caught Kimi's eye. She gave me a small wave. I waved back and then walked alone into the parking lot. It had been cold and cloudy when the game started; now rain was pouring down. I ran across the parking lot, opened the door, and plopped down in the driver's seat. Before I started the car, my cell phone rang.
"Kimi?" I said, hopeful. "Is that you?"
"Mitch True?" a male voice answered.
"Who is this?"
"Who I am is not important. Just please listen to me. Leave Angel Marichal alone. Don't come to his house. Don't ask questions about him."
My heart raced. "Who is this?" I repeated.
"Angel is one of the good guys. What you're doing can only help the bad guys."
The line went dead. I stared at the phone, hands shaking. Around me, cars inched their way out of the lot.
Finally I started for home, my thoughts churning. The
Times
hadn't mentioned Angel at all, and there'd been only one article in the
Lincoln Light,
but somebody was already warning me off. Angel had a secret, and whatever it was, it was big. The stuff about him being one of the good guysâthat didn't fly with me. Good people don't keep things dark. I'd heard that from my dad more than once.
Back in my room, I opened up my American Government book. For thirty minutes I flipped pages, but nothing was processing. Finally I shut the book and flicked off the light.
Who was it that had called? The friend Angel lived with? Had he seen me that night and somehow tracked me down? I didn't like the idea that somebody was out there watching me.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I couldn't.
Kimi.
Should I tell her about the phone call? The guy hadn't threatened me. All he'd said was to stay away from Angel. Well, that's what we were going to do. We weren't going to talk to him; we weren't going to go to his house. Investigate from a safe distanceâthat was the plan, and we'd stick to it. The phone call didn't change anything, so Kimi didn't need to know about it.
8
A FTER SCHOOL ON F RIDAY, I met Kimi by the office as planned. We milled around in the hallway for a few minutes. Sure enough, at three o'clock, Mrs. Cressy flung open the main door and strode out, headed toward the parking lot, just as Jessica had predicted. We watched her until she disappeared behind an SUV. Then I opened the office
Â
The girls had lost to Inglemoor on Saturday to drop their league record to 8â3. Inglemoor was the defending league champion, so it wasn't a bad loss, but they would have to beat North Shore to get back on track. Contenders or pretendersâThursday's game would provide the answer.
I found a seat at the top of the gym. Kimi was courtside, camera in hand. As I watched the warm-ups, it all looked familiar. Terri Calvo, Loaloa Toloto, and Chelsea Braker were huddled together. The same was true of Erica Stricker, Rachel Black, and Marianne Flagler. If they hadn't been wearing the same uniforms, you'd have thought they were opponents.
North Shore jumped ahead early in the first game, scoring six straight on a series of spike serves that had the back line totally flustered. The streak of aces started the Lincoln girls sniping at one another, and they kept sniping the rest of the match. The one good thing was that it ended quicklyâthe trouncing took just over an hour.
I stood and looked over the court for Kimi, thinking she might want to go to Peet's to talk over our plan one last time. I spotted her huddled by the door with Marianne and Rachel, both of whom were near tears. No doubt the three of them would be going off together. I started down out of the bleachers, my eyes on my feet to keep myself from tumbling like Humpty Dumpty.
When I reached the court, I caught Kimi's eye. She gave me a small wave. I waved back and then walked alone into the parking lot. It had been cold and cloudy when the game started; now rain was pouring down. I ran across the parking lot, opened the door, and plopped down in the driver's seat. Before I started the car, my cell phone rang.
"Kimi?" I said, hopeful. "Is that you?"
"Mitch True?" a male voice answered.
"Who is this?"
"Who I am is not important. Just please listen to me. Leave Angel Marichal alone. Don't come to his house. Don't ask questions about him."
My heart raced. "Who is this?" I repeated.
"Angel is one of the good guys. What you're doing can only help the bad guys."
The line went dead. I stared at the phone, hands shaking. Around me, cars inched their way out of the lot.
Finally I started for home, my thoughts churning. The
Times
hadn't mentioned Angel at all, and there'd been only one article in the
Lincoln Light,
but somebody was already warning me off. Angel had a secret, and whatever it was, it was big. The stuff about him being one of the good guysâthat didn't fly with me. Good people don't keep things dark. I'd heard that from my dad more than once.
Back in my room, I opened up my American Government book. For thirty minutes I flipped pages, but nothing was processing. Finally I shut the book and flicked off the light.
Who was it that had called? The friend Angel lived with? Had he seen me that night and somehow tracked me down? I didn't like the idea that somebody was out there watching me.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I couldn't.
Kimi.
Should I tell her about the phone call? The guy hadn't threatened me. All he'd said was to stay away from Angel. Well, that's what we were going to do. We weren't going to talk to him; we weren't going to go to his house. Investigate from a safe distanceâthat was the plan, and we'd stick to it. The phone call didn't change anything, so Kimi didn't need to know about it.
8
A FTER SCHOOL ON F RIDAY, I met Kimi by the office as planned. We milled around in the hallway for a few minutes. Sure enough, at three o'clock, Mrs. Cressy flung open the main door and strode out, headed toward the parking lot, just as Jessica had predicted. We watched her until she disappeared behind an SUV. Then I opened the office
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