French kiss (29 page)

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note for Pierre, which included Holly's e-mail address. Regardless of what happened with Tyler, Holly did hope she and Pierre would stay in touch as friends.

Towel, flip-flops, and Herbal Essences shower gel in hand, Holly crept out of the room and headed for the hall bathroom. She was pushing open the door when a familiar voice behind her chilled Holly to the bone.

"Holly Jacobson."

Her heart lodged in her throat, Holly turned around as slowly as possible. Coach Graham stood in the door frame of her room, wearing long-sleeved gray cotton pajamas printed with small sheep. Even though Holly's parents were teachers, she always found it freaky to see any adult authority figure looking like, well, a normal person. And since Coach Graham had been particularly authoritative on this trip, seeing her in PJs was
doubly
weird -- and, somehow, also made her a little less scary.

But only a little.

Holly tried to speak --
Ms. Graham, please let me explain!
-- but her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. Frozen in terror, Holly watched as Ms. Graham advanced toward her, one arm extended menacingly. Holly gulped, her knees buckling; was her coach actually going to
hit
her? Wasn't that illegal or something?

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Instead of smacking Holly, though, Coach Graham rested one hand on Holly's shoulder and stared right into her eyes.

"Holly," Coach Graham said quietly, her voice full of concern. "Tell me. How
are
you?"

Huh?

"What I'm
--
urn -- I'm all right, I guess," Holly stammered, even though
all right
was the opposite of how she was feeling. What did Coach Graham
expect
her to say?
Well I'm about to have my life ruined, hut other than that, I'm cool?

"Your ankle's better?" Coach Graham went on, gesturing down to Holly's left foot. "It must have healed more or less by now."

"Uh -- yeah, it's actually fine," Holly said, automatically rotating her ankle and realizing that Paris must have been good for it -- there was not a hint of pain now. But why was Coach Graham even bothering to ask about her ankle when she was so furious at her?

Coach Graham nodded, and a look of -- was it
relief?--
passed over her face. "It's good to see you up and about," she replied, giving Holly's shoulder a quick squeeze while Holly gazed back at her, thoroughly bewildered. "Though you are a little pale," Coach Graham added, frowning. "Is your stomach still bothering you?"

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My stomach?
Holly thought, shaking her head.
What is she talking abou --
And then Holly got it.

In wild disbelief, she remembered what Meghan had said to her over the phone:
So now Coach Graham thinks you've got food poisoning, chronic headaches ...

No.

It couldn't be.

"It -- well, um, it still kind of hurts," Holly managed to squeak out, putting a hand to her belly. None of this was making
any
sense, but Holly thought it best to attempt to play along for now.

Coach Graham nodded sympathetically. "But I hope at least your migraines are gone by now? Those were probably a side effect of the stomach problems."

This is a trap,
Holly realized, her mouth going dry. Coach Graham wanted Holly to fess up to her ludicious collection of illnesses, and
then
she'd have her cornered. Holly knew there was
no
conceivable way that four whole Holly-free days -- including Friday's big final meet could have passed without Coach Graham figuring out the truth. After all, Holly didn't see why her coach couldn't have done something as simple as barge into the girls' room to see for herself if Holly was really an invalid.

"I felt your pain, by the way," Coach Graham was

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saying, now clutching her own stomach. "Just like you -- bad shepherd's pie. I had two portions at some London pub on Wednesday and was flat on my back -- or over the toilet -- for the rest of the week." Coach Graham shuddered. "I'm only just starting to feel better today."

Holly blinked, trying to wrap her mind around this startling development. Coach Graham had been ...
sick?
For the first time since they'd started talking, Holly noticed that her coach did look sort of haggard; her face was drawn, her curly ash-blonde bob was matted, and there were shadowy circles under her eyes. With a burst of wonder, Holly realized that if Coach Graham had been out of commission for most of the week, she
wouldn't
have been able to check up on Holly.

"God, I'm -- um, really sorry," Holly replied, a great wave of hope cresting in her. She'd never imagined she could feel so happy about someone's food poisoning. "That must have been awful. I mean -- um I know exactly what you went through," she added hastily, her cheeks warming up. "I'm surprised I didn't run into you in the bathroom."
Easy there,
Holly told herself.
Maybe that's pushing it.

Coach Graham rolled her eyes. "Can you believe it? The coach and the captain both sick at the same time? I had to ask Coach Saunders from the Canadian

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team to cover for me during the meets, and Meghan and Jess became acting captains."

Holly felt a wash of pride and gratitude toward her friends, who, she was sure, had stepped up to the task nicely. They'd obviously carried off their
other
task -- of covering for her -- just brilliantly. How could Holly have ever doubted them? Between Alexa's insight into Tyler last night, and Meghan and Jess standing strong for her this whole week, Holly vowed never to second-guess her friends again.

"My biggest regret was missing Friday's final meet," Coach Graham was musing, and Holly snapped back to attention.

"Wait did we win?" she asked, realizing in the next second that if she
had
been at Wimbledon this whole time -- even bedridden she should have known the answer.
Oops.

But to Holly's boundless relief, Coach Graham was looking at her with sober understanding. "I see," she said softly. "Meghan and Jess didn't have the heart to tell you, did they?"

Holly bit her lip. "The German team?" she guessed.

Coach Graham shook her head. "Apparently the Bulgarian girls came out of nowhere at the last minute and swept the whole show." She let out a heavy sigh. "We came in tenth."

Holly hung her head, consumed by guilt, and she

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felt Coach Graham reach out and pat her shoulder again. "There, there," Coach Graham said. "I know it's a lot to take on top of everything else you've been going through"-- she lowered her voice --"with your family and all."

Right.
Meghan and Jess's fallback excuse. Holly glanced up at her coach, wishing that she were a better actress -- or at least as naturally dramatic as Alexa. Channeling her friend across the Channel, Holly opened her eyes as wide as they would go and whispered, "It's been really rough." Holly didn't feel like she was completely lying; after all, she
had
had issues with someone from home. Remembering Tyler to whom she now hadn't spoken for a full week Holly didn't have to fake the sadness that crossed her face.

"I understand," Coach Graham assured her. "Problems from home can really interfere while you're away. It's probably not appropriate for me to tell you this"-- Holly immediately perked up at these words "but my husband and I had an argument right before I left and I've been ..." She shrugged at Holly, looking embarrassed. "Pretty torn up about it ever since."

Surprise Number Three Hundred and Twenty.
Holly felt a tingling of sudden understanding; maybe
that
was why the coach had been so irritable on this trip
and
why she may have been too distracted to think too deeply about Meghan and Jess's multiple

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excuses. Holly remembered how, on the plane to London, she'd assumed that Coach Graham didn't know jack about relationships, and felt instantly humbled; apparently, she and Alexa didn't have the monopoly on romantic crises. She pictured Coach Graham sitting at a café with her and Alexa, complaining to the girls about her lame husband. Holly almost giggled out loud at the unlikely image, until she remembered she was supposed to be torn up, too. She straightened her face and returned Coach Graham's gaze.

"I guess we had sort of parallel weeks," Holly told her coach, surprised at how easy it felt to talk to her like this. The sheep pajamas definitely helped. But, a little unsteady from her unforeseen victory, Holly decided to quit while she was ahead. After urging her coach to get better soon, Holly was turning back toward the bathroom, when Ms. Graham spoke up again.

"Holly? One thing," she said.

Holly glanced over her shoulder, wary once more. "Yes?" she whispered.

"Because you did miss most of the competition this week," Coach Graham began, crossing her arms over her chest and returning to teacher mode, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to bench you for another couple of weeks." She sighed, shaking her head. "I hate to

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penalize team members for illnesses or problems beyond their control, but I don't want to set a precedent for the others so they think they can skip meets, too."

"Oh," Holly mumbled, her heart sinking.
Reality check!
She should have known she wouldn't get off one-hundred-percent free. And not being able to run once she was back in Oakridge was going to suck. But considering what her punishment
could
have been, that seemed a minor price to pay.

As Coach Graham waved and returned to her room, Holly finally surrendered to the excitement that had been building inside her. Alexa had been right! Only this was better than just
okay
-- this was miraculous! All of her anxieties in Paris had been for naught. While Holly had savored every moment of her secret trip, she surely would have had an even
better
time had she not obsessed over Wimbledon so much. Maybe that was the thing about doing something that risky, Holly thought as she headed into the bathroom. You just had to go for it, helter-skelter, banishing worry or fear.

Still, Holly mused as she started for the shower, even though she
had
pulled off her vanishing act, she felt horrible about abandoning her team in their time of need. And she knew enough not to push her luck; fate might not be so friendly to her in the future. She

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definitely didn't plan on repeating a stunt like this anytime soon.

The next morning, at seven o'clock, New Jersey time, Coach Graham led the jet-lagged girls" track team through the Virgin Atlantic arrivals gate at Newark Airport. As the team started up the escalator to baggage claim, Holly lingered behind, holding her duffel in both hands and taking in the wonderfully familiar sights: the crowded Starbucks kiosk to her left, the Pizza Hut to her right, the empty Krispy Kreme bag crumpled on the floor. The very air -- stale coffee and lemony cleaning solution -- smelled comforting, like home.

"Holly? Are you coming?" Meghan asked, grinning over her shoulder as she and Jess rose up on the escalator. "You don't want to go somewhere
else,
do you?" she added, lowering her voice. The rest of the team had also miraculously remained unaware of Holly's breakout, thanks to the combined efforts of Meghan and Jess.

"No," Holly replied, laughing. "Not for a while, anyway." She hurried to rejoin her friends, still enormously grateful that they weren't mad at her. Meghan and Jess had both been so relieved that the scheme had come off without a hitch that neither of them bothered to harbor any ill will.

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The team gathered around the circular baggage carousel, but since Holly and a few other girls only had carry-ons, Coach Graham urged them to go ahead and meet their families in the waiting area. Holly hugged Meghan and Jess fiercely, said good-bye to the rest of the team and Coach Graham -- who was beaming as she chatted with her husband on her cell phone and practically sprinted out of baggage claim and into the huge waiting area.

Squinting into the sea of faces, Holly searched for her mom's square red-framed glasses and her dad's dark bushy eyebrows. She'd called her parents from England last night, apologizing for being out of touch for a few days (without, of course, the slightest mention of Paris). Her parents had promised to be at Newark the next morning to pick her up, but now they were nowhere to be found. Holly felt a prickle of worry and was reaching into the pocket of her Kangol hoodie for her cell when she finally spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Wavy, dark-blond hair, amber-brown eyes, chiseled features.
Wow,
Holly thought as she gazed at him.
I'd forgotten how beautiful he is.
He was scanning the crowd, his brow furrowed, a bouquet of yellow roses in one hand. Holly felt herself swell up with joy and surprise. He must have arranged all this with her parents. In spite of everything, he had come to meet her.