The Secret Path by Christopher Pike Page A

of his favorite foods, too. That was one of the things that made his dad sort of a nerd—he liked junk food as much as kids.
    â€œI’m fine,” his dad said. “Let’s stop and have a drink. What would you like?”
    â€œA Coke,” Adam replied, following him down the ramp.
    â€œI don’t think we have any Cokes in the refrigerator.”
    â€œI don’t think we have a refrigerator,” Adam said. He pointed to the large white container at the rear of the truck. “We haven’t unloaded it yet.”
    â€œGood point,” his father said, sitting down on the lawn.
    â€œShould I tell Mom you’re hurt?”
    â€œLeave her, she’s busy.” He pulled a twenty from his back pocket and handed it to Adam. “Why don’t you run down to the 7-Eleven on the corner and get us a cold six-pack.”
    Adam pocketed the bill. “Yeah, I’ll just tellthem I forgot my ID, but I really am over twenty-one.”
    â€œI meant a six-pack of Coke.”
    â€œI know.” Adam turned away, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    His dad groaned as he leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the sky. “Take your time. I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

2
    I t was while Adam was returning from the store with the sodas that he met Sally Wilcox. She sneaked up on him from behind. A pretty girl about his age, she had long brown hair and a sticklike figure that somehow made her look like a doll that a fairy queen had brought to life with a wave of a magic wand. It was a hot day, and her long legs poking out of her white shorts were tan and bony. She had the widest brown eyes Adam had ever seen, and she didn’t look a thing like Denise back in Missouri.
    â€œHello,” she said. “Are you the new kid in town?”
    â€œI suppose so. I just got here.”
    She stuck out her hand. “My name’s Sara Wilcox, but you can call me Sally. It’s easier to remember.”
    Adam took her hand. “I’m Adam Freeman.”
    Sally practically shook his fingers off. “What should I call you?”
    â€œAdam.”
    She nodded to his Coke cans. “Are those cold?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œMay I have one, please?”
    It wasn’t as if he could say no, being the new kid and all. He gave her a Coke, which she promptly opened and drank. She didn’t even let out a loud burp afterward. Adam was impressed.
    â€œYou must have been thirsty,” he remarked.
    â€œI was.” She studied him for a moment. “You look depressed, Adam.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYou look sad. Are you sad?”
    He shrugged. “No.”
    Sally nodded to herself. “You left someone special behind. I understand.”
    Adam blinked. “What are you talking about?” This girl was weird.
    Sally waved her hand as if what she was saying was obvious. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re a good-looking guy. You must have had a good-looking girlfriend wherever you came from.” She paused. “Where was that anyway?”
    â€œKansas City.”
    Sally nodded sympathetically. “She’s a long way away now.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œI just met you, Adam. How would I know her name?”
    Adam frowned. “My best friends in Kansas City were named Sammy and Mike.”
    Sally tossed her long hair impatiently. “If you don’t want to talk about her, that’s OK. I’m going through an identity crisis myself.” She paused. “But you couldn’t tell that just by looking at me, could you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI hide it. I suffer in silence. It’s better thatway. It builds character. My aunt says I have a face full of character. Do you think that’s true?”
    Adam resumed walking toward his house. The Cokes were getting warm and Sally was making him dizzy. But it had been nice of her to say he was good-looking. Adam