Vanishing Acts by Phillip Margolin, Ami Margolin Rome Page A

expect the question, but it only took a moment for her to answer.
    â€œThat’s easy. I’d think someone was making a Western omelet. Why?”
    Of course, a Western omelet! Madison smiled. She was suddenly certain that she had just solved one of the mysteries in the Shelby case.

Chapter 14
Madison Sees a Ghost
    P rescott-Mather was just over the line in Washington County and was not in The Grove’s interschool league. The prep school had been the Washington County middle school champion three out of the past six years. Every year, The Grove boys’ and girls’ teams played a scrimmage against Prescott-Mather before the start of the season. Even though the game didn’t count, the scrimmage was a big rivalry game because it gave the teams a chance to see how well they could do against top competition.
    This year, the boys’ game was at The Grove and the girls were traveling. Madison boarded the bus for the trip to Prescott-Mather and found a seat in the back of the bus with Gail, another seventh-grade alternate. Coach Davis had made Marci team captain. Halfway to the prep school Marci stood in the aisle and gave a shrill whistle to get everyone’s attention.
    â€œBefore we boarded the bus, Coach Davis told us to play hard today as if we were playing in a championship game. Well, I’m telling you to play harder than that. This game won’t count in the won-lost column, but it counts here.” Marci pounded her fist against her heart. “The players on Prescott-Mather think they’re hot stuff because they’re rich and go to a private school. Well, they’re not hot stuff. That school recruits and gives out scholarships, and that’s cheating as far as I’m concerned. Everyone who plays for The Grove lives near the school. We don’t pick and choose. The Prescott-Mather snobs look down their nose at us because we go to public school. I say that makes us tougher. No one feeds us with a silver spoon. Today let’s show those preppies where they can put their silver spoons.” Marci’s face turned red. “I hate the Prescott-Mather preppies. Let’s crush them this afternoon.”
    Most of the girls cheered and whistled, but Madison was quiet. She’d never heard a coach or player on her elementary school or club teams say they hated anyone, let alone an entire school. As far as Madison was concerned, being angry hurt your performance. It was better to concentrate on doing your best. If you performed your fundamentals as well as you could, you’d play as well as you could, and it wouldn’t matter if you liked or hated the other team.
    Prescott-Mather had always been a big rival of her elementary school, but some of the girls on the two school teams played on elite club teams together and were friends. Madison couldn’t imagine hating someone who was a teammate on a club team just because they played for a different school during the school soccer season.
    The driver told Marci she would have to sit. She took her seat and everyone quieted down. Madison noticed that Coach Davis hadn’t done anything to stop Marci or criticize her speech. She sighed. There was no question that Marci was the coach’s favorite. Madison could see that taking her spot was going to be almost impossible.
    The bus left the highway shortly after crossing the county line and headed into the countryside. Fifteen minutes later, it passed between two stone pillars with thick metal letters on them that told Madison that she had arrived at Prescott-Mather. A two-lane road passed between oak, maple, and Douglas fir trees for a short stretch before turning into the main campus, a collection of old stone classroom buildings and dorms for the students who boarded that would have looked at home at any Ivy League university.
    The Grove’s gym was part of the school building, whereas the gym at Prescott-Mather was made of glass and polished steel and stood on its