Sidetracked Read online

  Short- and long-distance runners warm up on the track. Kat lopes at an easy pace. Carter runs alongside some of the new friends he’s made this year. Matt isn’t here. I heard him come home past his curfew. He’s probably still sleeping off whatever he was up to last night.

  As sprinters, our routine always starts the same. We begin with a warm-up lap. Next we follow with some stretching exercises to help loosen our joints. And then we start on our drills, which must appear totally crazy to anyone watching. We hop around like rabid bunny rabbits. It’s called plyometrics, or jump training. It works for anyone who wants to increase their athletic powers. And it’s actually fun too. Then right after that come the speed drills. Flat-out burning up the track in short flying bursts.

  I drop my backpack in a pile with all the others under the football goalpost at the end of the field. I don’t want to waste any time getting started on my warm-up. The spring sunshine beats down on my head as I lope up to my friends. It’s a perfect day for training.

  “Hey, Maddy,” Kat says as soon as I catch up to her. “Did you sleep in this morning or what?”

  “Nope, just having breakfast with my grandfather. But my brother slept in,” I say as I fall in sync with her easy strides.

  I fill her in about Matt missing his curfew, again, and how weird he’s been acting the last few months. “I can’t figure out what he’s up to. He’s really letting down Coach Chapman too. It’s like he’s hiding something. And I don’t want my mom or grandfather to notice and start to worry. They have enough on their minds as it is. Why does he have to be such a jerk?”

  “Brothers are good at that, aren’t they?” Kat says and laughs.

  “I just wish I knew what’s going on with him,” I say. “I can’t believe how much it’s bugging me. I’m starting to lose my focus on more important things, like running.”

  Kat stops and I almost crash into her. She puts her hands on my shoulders and stares into my eyes.

  “Maddy, your brother’s cool. You have to try and trust him.”

  “Sure hope you’re right. Thanks,” I say and give her a quick hug.

  Nothing better than a best friend who’s always there to give you a pep talk when you need one.

  Kat’s eyes shift toward something behind me and grow wide. “Wow,” she says. “Look who’s here!”

  I swivel my head, and there she is. Shauna Halstead, ponytail swishing and baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. She crosses the field and starts in the direction of the track. She stares straight ahead, as if she’s the only person here.

  chapter five

  I can’t believe Shauna has actually turned up on a Saturday morning. We all know she prefers to do her training in the park so she won’t have to hang out with us.

  Her brother Justin has shown up too. And lo and behold, there’s my brother Matt, jogging along not far behind. I can’t believe he actually made it. He gives me a half wave, as if he’s too cool to admit I’m related to him. The three of them drop their backpacks under the goalpost and head for the track to warm up.

  Justin is broad and muscular. More than one girl looks over as he runs past us. Zenia gives him an extra-long look, which I’ve noticed her do before. She’s so into him. With his ginger hair, he almost has a Ron Weasley look. In a second, Justin’s caught up to Carter and his friends. My brother brings up the rear. Shauna starts jogging too. She doesn’t bother with any of the girls from her team.

  I decide I’m going to suck it up and wave at her. I start to lift my hand just as she’s running past. But she looks the other way and acts as if she didn’t notice my friendliness. I feel stupid, so I pretend I was scratching my head.

  “Why do I even bother?” I say, more to myself than to anyone else.

  “Strange girl,” Kat says, watching her. “Got great form, though, doesn’t she? Too bad she can’t beat us, huh, Maddy? I’ll bet that bugs her like crazy!” Kat grins and offers me a high five, which I return with a few misgivings.

  “Too bad I can’t beat you every time,” I say.

  “And too bad I can’t beat you every time,” Kat says. “It will all work out one way or another, don’t you think? One of us will run the hundred meter, and the other will be the sub—and we’ll both qualify for the relay team.”

  “I guess so,” I say. But I don’t want to mention what else I’m thinking. Which is how badly I’d like to get that spot as the top sprinter on the bantam team. What would that do to our friendship though? What if, secretly, she wants it just as badly?

  And why can’t I be honest about it with her? Maybe neither one of us wants to acknowledge the truth about the competitiveness between us because it could threaten our friendship?

  We train past lunchtime. Shauna doesn’t glance my way the whole time. She’s watching her brother though. She runs with him a lot, and does her warm-ups, wind sprints and plyometrics with him and his teammates instead of with us. Sometimes it seems as if she doesn’t really want to be a part of our team. If Coach Reeves announces next week that she’ll be part of the relay team, I’m not sure how I’ll deal with it. It sure will take a lot of energy to make it work.

  Matt is pitching the shot put. A few girls stand around watching his muscles move. Some of them aren’t even on the track-and-field team. I’m pretty sure they’ve only shown up to ogle my brother. They’re purposely acting silly on the sidelines just so he’ll look their way. But Matt is totally focused and just smirks and shakes his head. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a girlfriend yet. Or maybe he does? Maybe that’s why he’s been so busy and cranky.

  I don’t even notice how hungry I am until one of the custodians wanders from the school. He calls out that it’s nearly 2:00 and says it’s time for everyone to think about putting the equipment away. In other words, he’s telling us nicely to get lost.

  I still have one eye on Shauna. I try to catch her attention, hoping she’ll at least nod or something. It doesn’t work. She doesn’t seem ready to leave. As Kat and I walk away, I glance over my shoulder. She’s still running on the track along with her brother, Matt and a couple of other guys. Zenia’s there, too, and seems determined to try her best to make the relay team.

  “I still don’t get this Shauna girl,” I say to Kat. “Why did she even show up if she’s not interested in talking to anyone?”

  “Who knows?” Kat shakes her head. “And who even cares? Why does this matter to you so much anyway? You’ve got me, and tons of other friends.”

  “I guess I just don’t like it when I think someone has something against me and I don’t even know why.”

  “It’s not just you, it’s everyone, Maddy. Anyway, if it bugs you so much, why don’t you ask her? But I don’t know why you’d bother,” she says.

  I shrug. “We’re all on the same track team, you know. We’ll likely even be on the same relay team with her, since she’s one of the top four bantam sprinters. Look how well our team did last year. Because we were all friends, and we helped each other figure stuff out on and off the track.”

  Now Kat shrugs. “The rules have changed, Maddy. Everything’s different this year. Way more kids, way more competition. And way more stuff to deal with. Besides, we can’t be friends with everyone, can we?” She pauses. “So? Want to throw something together for lunch at my place? As you know, I make a mean KD with chopped-up weenies.”

  “How can I turn down an offer like that?” I say with a smile. I shoot one last glance over my shoulder. Shauna is staring at me. When our eyes meet, she looks away.

  chapter six

  All through lunch, Kat and I babble away about school stuff, and avoid the subject of who will be chosen for the girls’ 100 meter. But the question hangs over our heads like a thought bubble in a comic strip. Will it be her, or me? When Kat asks for help with math, it makes for a good distraction. Poor Kat. We sit beside each other at the table, our heads together. I try to explain the Pythagorean theorem. I can tell she’s totally lost by the way she stares into space instead of at th
e page. She’s not even listening to me.

  “Oh, who cares about the sides of a triangle?” she finally groans. “How is this going to matter in my life? Will you tell me, Maddy? Why do I even need to know this!”

  “Well, to pass math this year, for starters,” I remind her.

  “Too true. I’m doomed!” Kat throws herself dramatically across the table and fake-sobs. “There’s one thing for sure, Maddy,” she says from under the crook of her arm. “When it comes to you and me and math, you’re guaranteed to win!”

  I’m not sure Kat will ever fully understand the Pythagorean theorem, even though she pretends to so we don’t have to do math anymore. We check out some YouTube music videos for a while, which is a relief. It’s hard explaining math to someone with a non-mathematical brain.

  Afterward, I run home at a nice easy pace. Running fills me with peace and is a great stress burner. And right now, I almost wish I could run away from all the stuff that’s been bugging me about my brother and Shauna, who I still can’t figure out. I take a shortcut through Eastwood High and across the football field.

  It’s completely deserted now that everyone has gone home and the school is locked up. In fact, it kind of creeps me out. I jog along the side of the building, peering into vacant classrooms. I’ve almost reached the athletic field and the track when I hear a shout, and I stop.

  My first instinct is to hide. My heart is hammering inside my chest, as if I’ve just run a race. I have a bad feeling about this. I’m almost afraid to look. Breathing hard, I back up against the school and peer around the corner.

  At the other end of the field, there’s some sort of scuffle going on. A bunch of guys are giving someone a hard time, pushing and shoving. Whoever is getting shoved pushes back hard. They’re all so far away, I can’t make out any of their faces. I glance over my shoulder. There isn’t a soul in sight—nothing but the empty teachers’ parking lot. The only one here to witness this is me. There’s nobody to call to for help. I wish I had my cell phone, but I didn’t bring it to practice today.

  One of the guys is shouting. I can’t hear what he’s saying. The person getting bullied yells something back. I can’t help but think about who was the last to leave after practice. My brother stayed behind with Shauna, Justin, a few other kids and Carter.

  I press myself against the cool bricks and try to figure out what I should do. When I take another look, someone is sitting on the ground in the middle of the field as the others run off. I know what I have to do next. I have to pretend I’m just arriving. And act as if I have no clue what happened.

  Why didn’t I yell or call out? There’s no denying I was too chicken. But now, I have to make sure this person is okay, so I sprint across the field. When I get there, I can hardly believe who it is.

  “What are you still doing here?” is the first thing I ask Zenia.

  She’s sitting on the grass blinking, as if she can’t believe what just happened to her.

  “I wiped out on the track when I was running,” Zenia says, avoiding any eye contact with me. She tries to flash one of her bright smiles as she pushes her tangled mane of sandy hair out of her eyes. I’m proud of her for sticking up for herself, but I can’t tell her that.

  “No way! How did that happen?” I try my best to sound surprised. I reach out to help her to her feet, and she slowly heaves herself up. “I was just taking a shortcut home from Kat’s place. You’re not hurt or anything, are you, Zenia?”

  “I don’t think so,” she says in a dazed voice. “I just feel really stupid I let it happen. I…I guess I wasn’t paying attention, and I tripped over my backpack. What a total klutz!” Her eyes are locked on the direction the other kids took off in.

  Zenia is totally lying. I can’t believe it. She doesn’t want to tell me what really happened to her. Probably because she’s too proud. And I can’t tell her what I saw, or she’ll know I did nothing to try and help her.

  “So you’re going home now, right?” I say. “I’ll walk with you, okay?”

  “Sure, that would be cool,” Zenia says.

  She grabs her backpack and flings it over her muscular shoulder. Zenia works out all the time, and she’s tough and wiry. She stood up to those jerks even though they completely outnumbered her. I think I know who was shoving her. I heard Carter’s voice. But I don’t know why it happened.

  We wander home, talking about the track team and the dance coming up next Friday night. We talk about everything except what just happened to her. I can hardly concentrate on what she’s saying. There’s a sick knot in my gut that isn’t from running on a full stomach.

  chapter seven

  On Saturday night, I stay home and try to forget the horrible scene I witnessed today. The memory of it eats away at me. Watching a Shrek movie with Abuelo and Mom helps. Abuelo loves the Puss-in-Boots character. He laughs at him the entire time, which makes me and Mom laugh too. My grandfather’s laughing is funnier than the movie.

  Of course, Matt isn’t home. “Going to a buddy’s place to work on an assignment,” he mumbled and left before dinner late this afternoon. But I could see the lie in his shifting eyes. Why hasn’t my mom figured it out, when it’s so obvious?

  As soon as the movie ends, Abuelo says good night and heads to bed so he can get up early to make breakfast for everyone. Now that I have a chance, I decide it’s time to ask my mom about Matt. I kneel on the sofa beside her, cup her chin in my hand and look into her eyes.

  “Mom, haven’t you been wondering what’s up with Matt lately? How come you never freak out over some of the stuff he’s been doing?” I ask.

  “Of course I’ve been wondering, Maddy. You think I should be freaking out?” Mom asks. “Why should I be freaking out?”

  Is my mom totally blind, or what? “Because of the way he snaps at us all sometimes, and how he comes and goes and never really tells us what he’s up to. Plus he breaks his curfew. Aren’t moms supposed to worry about stuff like that?”

  Mom sighs and stretches her legs. “Oh, Madina, of course I worry about your brother. All parents worry about their children. But my day starts at five thirty in the morning. I work hard with the kids at day care. My feet are always sore. And I’m exhausted when I get home. If I let myself worry about Mateo all the time, then I wouldn’t sleep at night. I need my sleep!”

  “But sometimes Matt doesn’t show up for track practice,” I say. “And his coach starts asking me questions I don’t know how to answer.”

  “Sweetie, it’s not your problem, is it?” Mom gently pushes my long curtain of hair behind my ear so she can see my whole face. “Your brother is sixteen now. I have to start trusting him, don’t you think? I never get calls from the school. He’s polite most of the time. He helps out around the house when I ask. So I let some other things go.”

  I smile at my mom and hope she’s right about trusting Matt.

  It’s hard to focus on my homework on Sunday. I can’t stop thinking about what I saw and how I hid. I regret doing nothing. Maybe if I’d yelled, they would have taken off sooner. Then I might actually be able to face Zenia again without feeling utterly lame.

  The other thing bugging me is that my brother suddenly has an iPod! He had the earbuds plugged into his head this morning. When I asked him where it came from, he just shrugged and said he saved his allowance.

  Abuelo gives us each twenty bucks a week. No way Matt could have saved enough money for an iPod. He’s always got new T-shirts and hoodies. I wonder if he actually bought any of the stuff, like he said he did. It makes me queasy just thinking about how else he might have gotten these things. When I put all the pieces of the Matt puzzle together, I don’t like the shape it’s taking.

  I can’t wait for Sunday to end so I can go to school Monday and start thinking about something else for a change.

  chapter eight

  During the peak of track-and-field season, the coaches are relentless. They regularly call early-morning practices on top of the after-school practices. And
they like to see us all out on the field by 7:30. So it’s early to bed for Matt and me Sunday nights.

  On Monday morning, I pound on his door at 6:45 to make sure he gets his butt moving. All I get is a growl. When I leave shortly after seven, I still can’t hear my brother moving around in his room. My grandfather promises he’ll get Matt up.

  I let out a sigh of relief when I spot Matt loping across the field as the coaches step out of the school. I know he can be a jerk, but I don’t really want him to get in trouble. Shauna and Justin showed up a couple of minutes before him. Justin gives Matt a salute, which Matt returns with a half grin and a raised eyebrow.

  As soon as he reaches the track, Coach Reeves blows his whistle, and the entire team gathers around. Usually he’s smiling, full of pep and armed with sayings to try and inspire us on a Monday morning.

  “Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust,” are the first words out of his mouth. His face is stony. “Anyone know who said that?”

  We all stand in stunned silence. “Only one of the most brilliant American track-and-field athletes ever, Jesse Owens,” he says. “Surely you know who he is, don’t you?”

  We all nod, even though I’m positive half the kids don’t really know who Jesse Owens is.

  “His running-broad-jump record stood for twenty-five years,” says Coach. “He won four medals in the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Do yourselves a favor and google him, okay? Anyone want to try and guess what Owens meant by that?”

  We stare at the ground, our shoes and then each other. Nobody wants to meet the coach’s eyes for fear he might ask them to answer. Plus he’s acting pissed off about something.

  “Here’s a clue,” he says. “It’s about friendships forged on the competitive athletic field. It’s about how much more important those friendships are than the actual award you win. Because that’s what’s important in the long run, right?”