Odd Girl In (18 page)

“Well, it turns out I can only jump
four
cars with my bike,” he said, rubbing the wound.

My eyes widened. “Really?”

“Nah.” He grinned. “Chloe and I started training last weekend for the championship.”

I dropped back onto my seat. “You've been training? How? We don't even know what the obstacles are.”

“Not specifically,” said Trevor. He raised an eyebrow. “But if you give me all of your fake money, I'll let you in on a secret.”

I sized him up for a moment before handing over my bag of Champs change. “Deal.”

He looked around and leaned toward me. “It's supposed to be modeled after the Sandhurst Military Skills competition at West Point,” he whispered.

“Sandhurst?” I repeated, opening my notebook. “How do you spell it?”

Trevor held up a colored sheet of paper and studied it. “Let's see. S-a-n-d …”

I stopped writing when I saw the paper, and Trevor grinned. “Ms. Success had a stack of these on her desk.”

I snatched the page from him and read:

Parents, a reminder that this Sunday is the Champs Championship and a wonderful opportunity to see your child shine! Our obstacle course will prove to be a challenge, as it is modeled after West Point's own Sandhurst …

“Hey!” I lowered the paper. “You tricked me!”

I reached for my Champs change, but Trevor was already pouring the coins into his own bag. “Thanks for the contribution. Now I can buy some M&M's at the concession stand.”

I sighed and pulled back my hand. “You earned it, I suppose. But have you really been training?”

“Yep,” he said. “I mean, we didn't know about Sandhurst until now, but most obstacle courses are the same.”

I frowned. “When are you going to have time for fund-raising?”

“Already done,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Chloe's been saving her babysitting money so all I had to do was mow a few lawns to keep from feeling guilty, and we jumped right into training.”

“Oh. Well, good for you.” I slumped on my stool, feeling more than a little discouraged. I'd been so proud of my hockey scrimmage, the prizes we'd earned, and the money we'd gotten from laundry, but apparently we were still behind. Chloe was already winning.

Trevor must have noticed that I was feeling dejected because he bumped my shoulder with his own. “Cheer up. We still haven't gotten the fire-making down.”

If it was possible, I slouched even lower. To my complete and utter dismay, Chloe chose that moment to saunter over, shaking a bulging bag of Champs change.

“I think I'll come sit with the best and brightest.” She
smiled at Trevor, then glanced my way. “Oh. And Alex.”

I kept quiet even though her snub wasn't wasted on me. It was, however, wasted on Trevor.

“Hey, Chloe!” he said. “Wow, that's a lot of money.”

She smiled and dropped the bag on the table with a
thunk
. “I've got social skills, something a few people in this class lack.” Her eyes flitted to me. “All I have to do is say hello, and people practically throw money at me.”

“Oh, like a street performer?” I couldn't help asking. “What's your talent? Playing a fiddle with your feet?”

Chloe's smile wavered a little, but she simply turned her back to me. “Do you still have your Champs change?” she asked Trevor.

“And Alex's.” He grinned apologetically at me and handed his bag to Chloe.

“Then I'm going to go collect
our
list of obstacles.” She squeezed his arm and winked at me. “And my talent is winning. You should try it some time.”

When Dad pulled up to the curb after class, I leapt into the front seat before the car was even in park.

“We need flint,” I told him. “And lots of wood.”

He glanced past me to my brothers. “Should I be concerned?”

“It's for Champs,” I said. “Nick, Parker, and I need to practice making fires.”

“Isn't that what got you into trouble in the first place?” asked Dad.

“Yeah, but I don't think they're going to let me bring a Flaming #2 to the contest,” I said. “We need to start a fire from scratch.”

“I can do that,” said Nick.

I frowned at him. “
Without
putting wet socks in the microwave.”

“Oh.” Nick shook his head. “Then never mind.”

“Practicing wouldn't be a bad idea,” said Parker. “We can at least be prepared for one of the challenges.”

“All right,” said Dad, putting the car in gear. “What do you plan to use for tinder?”

My brothers and I looked at one another.

“Huh?”

“What are you going to use to hold the spark until the wood catches on fire?” asked Dad.

“I've got just the thing.” Parker held up his copy of
The Secrets of Success
, and Nick and I laughed. “She did say it would come in handy outside of class.”

“Clever … but no,” said Dad, smirking. “You won't have access to paper at the competition.”

“There'll be leaves and pine needles on the ground,” said Parker. “We'll use the paper for practice.”

“All right, but let's also make sure we stay out of Mr.
McGuire's sight,” Dad said. “The last thing we need is for him to think I'm teaching you how to commit arson.”

I turned to face Dad. “You're going to help us?”

He shrugged. “I'm not a wilderness expert, but I've had to start a few fires from scratch so I can give you some pointers. Unless you want to do it on your own.”

“No, we'd like you to be there,” said Parker with a smile.

For the next few hours, Dad showed us how to strike the flint and get a good flame going. Nick was excellent at getting the sparks to fly, and Parker, being
so
full of hot air, could blow on the embers to create flames. I, of course, proved to be the most valuable, stacking the wood so it would burn just right and providing the marshmallows for toasting.

When Dad finally decided to retreat to his office, I searched the internet for the Sandhurst competition and showed it to my brothers.

“That doesn't look too bad,” said Nick.

“Yeah, if we're with
those
guys,” Parker nodded at the army platoon running the course. “Somehow I don't see us climbing a vertical wall in ten seconds.”

“All we really have to do is complete the obstacles and start the fire,” said Nick. “We're not required to take first place.”

Parker and I stared aghast at him until he nodded.

“Yeah, okay. I want to win too.”

“Trevor and Chloe have been training,” I said. “Maybe we could try that.”

“When?” asked Nick. “I've got football tomorrow night, and Saturday we'll be busy with the hockey scrimmage. Then the championship's on Sunday.”

I bit my lip. We'd be going into the contest blind, with Nick as our only muscle, unless Parker had something hidden up his sleeve … or in his hair.

“We'll get through it,” said Nick, noticing the worried look on my face.

“I know,” I said. “I just don't want you to have to carry me and Parker.”

“I don't mind if you carry me,” Parker told him. “It'll be good servant training for you.”

Nick gave him a wry smile. “Since we can't actually practice on a real course, why don't we at least talk about how we'd deal with these obstacles?”

And up until bedtime, that's what we did.

My biggest fear was that Nick would injure himself in his football game, but thankfully, he made it through safe and sound. On Saturday morning, he, Parker, and I got to The Iceman early so we could set up for the scrimmage. Or rather, so Nick and I could set up while Parker complained
about how the cold was affecting his “athlete's legs.”

“You don't have ‘athlete's legs,'” I told him, filling a water cooler and hefting it onto a table. “You barely have chicken's legs.”

“For your information, the chicken is related to the Tyrannosaurus rex,” said Parker.

“Which had no upper body strength,” I said, giving him a quick once-over. “What a strange coincidence.”

Nick appeared and handed me a set of keys.

“What are these for?” I asked.

“The rink gates.” He pointed to the huge iron gates that wrapped around each rink like a cage. “Hang on tight to them. I'm going to see who's playing today.”

While we waited, I figured I might as well open one of the rinks, so I walked over to a padlock and searched for the matching key.

“Here, let me help.” Parker snatched the keys away. “You'll put the wrong one in and get it stuck.”

“No, I won't!” I jerked the key ring out of his hands, but my fingers were still slippery and wet from filling the water cooler. The keys flew into the air … and through the bars of the locked gate.

For a moment, Parker and I just stood there, watching as the keys hit the ice with a metallic
clink
. Then the horrible reality of the situation struck me.

We'd lost our one way of getting into the rink.

“No!” I cried, lunging forward and reaching through the bars. The keys were still several yards out of my reach.

I wheeled on Parker. “Look what you did!”

“Me?!” He crossed his arms. “I've got the legs of a chicken and the upper body of a T. rex. I hardly think I'm capable.”

“Ohhh, this can't be happening!” I put my arm through the gate again and waved it back and forth, grabbing nothing but air.

“If you're trying to fly, I'd give it a go with both arms,” said Parker.

“Shut up!” I grabbed a spare hockey stick off the rack and slid it between the grates, thrusting it at the keys, which promptly slid farther away. I pointed at Parker. “Don't … say … a … word.”

“What's going on?” asked Nick.

He came toward us, followed by a sizable crowd of players wielding hockey sticks. Parker stepped into their line of sight so the keys weren't visible, and I grabbed Nick's arm and pulled him away.

“We can't get into the rink!” I whispered.

“What? I just gave you the keys!” he said.

I pointed onto the ice and Nick sighed.

“So the phrase ‘hang on tight' means nothing to you?”

I wrung my hands together and glanced past him to the crowd. “What are we going to do?”

“Let me think,” he said, rubbing his chin.

Parker laughed, but when Nick frowned at him, he stopped.

“Sorry. I thought you were joking.”

Nick glanced at the hockey equipment and then at the players. “Alex, get everyone's chewing gum.”

I tilted my head to one side. “Excuse me?”

“Almost all of these guys are chewing gum. Get them to spit it into your palm.”

“Ugh!” I tucked both hands under my armpits. “Let's just buy ice from the market and put it in a kiddie pool. They can play on that.”

“Alex … the gum,” said Nick with a no-nonsense frown.

“Fine,” I groaned.

“Parker, help me get some skate laces.”

“Uh, okay.” Parker's confused look carried over to the players as I made them spit their gum into my hand while Nick asked a few to unlace their skates.

When he had enough laces, he tied them end-to-end and then to the grill of a hockey mask. After that, he placed gum all around the back edges of the mask and tested the weight in his hand. Stepping up to the gate around the rink, he flung the mask through the bars and past the keys.

The mask landed on the ice, but because it fell gum-side down, it didn't skid out of control. Pulling on the skate laces, Nick dragged the mask back toward him. The front of it caught the keys and Nick was able to reel them in.

I gaped in amazement as he jingled the keys in front of me. “Ta-da!”

“That … that was awesome!” I said. “How did you even think to put that stuff together?”

He shrugged and unlocked the gate. “Just resourceful, I guess.”

We returned everyone's skate laces (nobody wanted their gum back), and the players took to the ice to practice. My brothers and I sat in the bleachers, and a crowd filled in around us. I started to feel a warmth growing inside me, but it wasn't because of the mass of bodies. I was slowly realizing just how amazing my brothers were … and that we might actually have a fighting chance against Chloe and her crew.

Chapter 15

S
unday morning, my brothers and I received
the air horn alarm clock experience again, but since Dad started at the other end of the hall, I simply pulled the covers over my head and rolled over.

“Wake up, Champ!” crowed a female voice.

Clearly
not
my dad.

I flipped over to see a gigantic star standing beside my bed.

“Augh!” I screamed and scooted against the wall.

“Alexis!” boomed Ms. Success. Her face, painted yellow, peeked out from the center of the star. “So nice of you to join the world of the living.” She waddled to my window and drew back the curtains.