Played. Liz Fichera

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Название Played
Автор произведения Liz Fichera
Жанр Учебная литература
Серия MIRA Ink
Издательство Учебная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472096227



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at me as if I’d just slapped her.

      I chuckled to hide the last-minute remorse in my tone. “I’m sure Mr. Romero won’t mind.”

      “I noticed that Jay brought his backpack—”

      “Jay,” I muttered. Again with Jay Hawkins! “What’s the use in bringing a backpack if you aren’t smart enough to find any of the stuff on the list?”

      “Are you saying Jay’s not smart?”

      Ugh. She didn’t really want to know my answer.

      “’Cause he’s in all AP classes. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here—”

      I interrupted her again. “Good grades doesn’t always mean smart.” Smart aleck, more like it.

      “And he led that school drive last year to collect new sneakers for the homeless.”

      “Purely for show.” And to get another photo caption for himself in the yearbook.

      “Well, it doesn’t hurt, Sam.”

      “Save it, Riley.” I lifted both my palms at her. “I know all about Jay’s compassion and brilliance.” I wondered if Riley would change her tune about Jay if she knew how he’d teased Peter during freshman year gym class, taunting him about being so skinny. He’d called Peter a totem pole. He’d tried to tease me, too, until I’d put on six inches and twenty pounds the next semester. That had shut him up real quick. Ever since, Jay had resented everything about me, including my growth spurt. I was pretty certain it bugged him that I had a higher GPA than him. Last year I’d overheard him say to another guy—loud enough for me to hear, too—that I received special treatment from teachers, which I totally did not. I worked as hard as he did, probably harder. It had been my experience off the Rez that there was no reaching guys like Jay Hawkins.

      Riley closed her eyes, briefly, as she steadied herself with a loud exhale. “Look, I’ll carry the leaves. My pockets are bigger.” As if to prove it to me, she lifted the front pockets of her pink sweatshirt with her fists still balled inside. I had to admit, they did look pretty roomy. In one of the pockets, the top of a water bottle peeked out.

      “Okay,” I said, backing away. “You can carry the prickly pear needles. If you want, you can carry a whole handful of those.” I meant it as a joke, but Riley wasn’t laughing.

      Her hands left their pockets and moved to her hips. “What exactly is your problem?”

      “No problem,” I said, turning toward the four-lane road. We had to cross it to reach the pine trees. “Just trying to be helpful.” My sarcasm was a little excessive, but I hardly cared, especially after she’d continued to defend Jay Hawkins. After this scavenger hunt was over, our partnership would end. I’d see to that.

      Riley didn’t follow me this time. She just yelled at me as I kept moving. “You know, this is supposed to be a leadership retreat. We’re supposed to work together. We’re supposed to be leaders.”

      “So lead,” I said as I kept walking. “Where to next?”

      She didn’t answer me. I heard her jeans swish as she jogged across the dirt to catch up. But this time she didn’t catch up and jog alongside me. She charged toward the highway like she was some kind of world-class runner. A line of cars sped up the mountain. They weren’t going that fast, but fast enough.

      “Hey. Wait up,” I said. Now it was my turn to catch up to her. Fast when she needs to be, I noted. Convenient.

      Riley caught an opening between the cars and darted across the highway to the other side. She ran toward a ranger station that overlooked the entire Mogollon Rim, which also happened to be where the drop-off to the valley below was the most extreme. The tiny parking lot surrounding the ranger station was empty, probably because everyone was on the other side of the campground, fishing. Or looking for stupid forest stuff, if they were part of our school group. “Hey, wait up!” I yelled again, but my voice was drowned out by the engine noise of cars and trailers racing down the highway.

      I had to wait a few minutes. At least twenty cars passed before I got an opening in the traffic. Then I ran to the other side of the road, but Riley was gone.

      Gone, where?

      “Riley!” I called out. In front of me stretched the Mogollon Rim. All I could see were the tops of pine trees, a million triangles in every direction. They swayed like green waves in the wind. I wouldn’t be able to see the little mountain towns below until I reached the edge, and even then the towns were miles below, tiny brown and red roofs dotting spaces between green pine trees like Monopoly pieces. I ran to the Rim, expecting to find her near the edge beneath the trees gathering pinecones.

      But no Riley.

      I stood frozen on the Rim. The wind whipped through the treetops and against my ears. Cold, dry air filled my mouth, stealing my breath as I called Riley’s name. The only thing that came back was the muffled echo of my own voice.

      I ran along the edge but it was empty. Nothing but red dirt, pine trees and enough pinecones littering the ground to fill a football stadium. So where was she? There hadn’t been enough time for her to run very far. She might be fast but, sorry, I was a lot faster.

      Was she crazy enough to climb a tree?

      Possibly.

      My eyes swept across the trees dotting the edge. Their skinny green leafy branches danced in the wind. I paced along the edge, scanning the trees, and then looked down. The drop was nearly vertical. More pine and scraggly juniper jutted out from the side of the mountain like deformed arms.

      I cupped my mouth with my hands and yelled again. “Riley!” My heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Not funny! Where are you?” Of all the girls here this weekend, how had I gotten saddled with her?

      And then I heard a muffled squeak, somewhere below me. I tilted my head, trying to focus on the sound, trying to place it. Was it an echo? An animal? But from where? I squinted and scanned the side of the mountain, but it was like staring into the bottom of a murky ocean. I saw only endless greens and browns...and then a sliver of hot pink.

      “Riley!” I yelled again, walking as close to the edge as I could without my toes curling over. I cupped my mouth, screaming her name as loud as I could, squinting through the branches and leaves. How had she gotten down there? “Stupid girl,” I mumbled as dirt crunched beneath my feet. Rocks rolled beneath my toes and I had to stop myself from slipping over the edge.

      Riley’s voice was faint, but I made out two words. “Help me.”

      11

      Riley

      The moment I opened my eyes, the world spun in slow motion.

      I lay on my back, staring up at pine trees as tall as city skyscrapers. Their skinny brown trunks swayed in the wind like they could snap at any second and bury me forever. The sharp pine smell filled my nostrils.

      I didn’t know how long I had blacked out, but the smell must have coaxed open my eyes. Pine needles, pinecones, pine everything was scattered everywhere. Green-and-brown needles stuck to my hair and sweatshirt sleeves.

      I couldn’t have been out for longer than a few seconds. I’d been reaching out to a tree branch for the perfect pinecone, number two on the scavenger list. All of the ones scattered on the ground were moldy-looking or broken. I needed to pluck the right one. I’d only needed to stretch forward a few inches to reach it....

      Then, whoosh! My right foot had skidded across a layer of pebbles, and I’d tumbled over the edge of the Mogollon Rim. Next thing I knew, I was lying flat on a piece of rock that jutted off the side of the mountain like a shelf.

      Dumb idea, obviously, reaching for that pinecone. If I had only taken one of the many zillion covering the ground, I wouldn’t have tumbled down this mountain and found myself staring up into the sky—and into Sam Tracy’s most assuredly I-told-you-so face. I couldn’t see any of his features,