Sidetracked (2 page)
I can still hear Paige's
Little Miss
Sunshine
comment. Oh, if my friends only knew about the dark little storm cloud hanging over my home life.
As soon as I step through the front door when I get home that afternoon, I head for the kitchen. “Hey, Abuelo! Something smells
so
good! What are you making for dinner?”
My grandfather stands at the stove, stirring something in a pot. It smells like heaven, and I know it will taste that way too. I lean in to peck him on his rough brown cheek. It's something I started to do after he moved in with us. And now it has become as much of a habit as brushing my teeth.
Abuelo moved into our cozy little bungalow when he retired from his job as a school custodian a few years ago. My abuela, my grandmother, passed away three years ago. Around the same time as my dad left. Abuelo built his own room in the basement as soon as he moved in. He's great at stuff like that.
We don't talk about those tough times. Abuelo has worked hard at getting over losing the love of his life. And my mom has worked just as hard to move on after losing our dad. For some reason, my dad wanted to go live down in Florida. Mom didn't want to, so he went by himself. Things hadn't been great between them, and it was almost a relief when the constant arguing stopped.
It made sense for Abuelo and Mom to pool their resources. And I think they're both happier helping each other. Our mom works in a day care center and cooks a lot of the meals there. So Abuelo has taken over the cooking at home.
“Is Matt home yet?” I ask, and Abuelo shakes his head.
“No, he had track practice, Madina. Didn't you see him there?”
“Oh yeah.” I try to laugh, but it almost makes me choke.
“And how was track practice anyway?” Abuelo asks. “Did you win today?” His dark eyes are bright. He loves that my brother and I are part of the track-and-field team.
“Yes, I won, Abuelo. But we're still not certain who'll run the hundred meter yet. Kat and I are both top runners though. So we'll be on the bantam relay team for sure.”
That makes my grandfather smile. He is so supportive. He comes to our meets sometimes, sits in the stands and cheers Matt and me on. He even pays for our cell phone accounts, probably so he knows that he and Mom can always get in touch with us. Which is why it bugs me that my brother is not being where he's supposed to be. It's as if he's putting one over on our grandfather.
Matt blows in the front door and drops his backpack. He's breathless, as if he ran all the way home.
“I'm starved!” Those are the first words out of his mouth. “What's cookin', Abuelo?”
“Cabbage and chorizo,” Abuelo says, smiling.
“Again?” Matt groans. “Forget it. I'm kind of in a hurry anyway. I'll just go pick up some pizza slices or something, okay?”
“But I thought you liked my cooking, Mateo,” Abuelo says.
“Yeah, but you gotta try something
new
once in a while, Abuelo,” Matt says, then slips down the hall to his room and shuts the door.
“Why does he wear his pants like that?” Abuelo asks. “All hanging down like he doesn't care how he looks.”
I do my best to reassure him. “It's the style now. Don't worry about it. They're just pants.” I give him another peck on his whiskery cheek before heading toward my own room. I stop in front of Matt's door and knock.
“
What
?” His voice is muffled and cranky.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“About what?”
He is
so
frustrating these days. “Unlock your door and you'll find out, okay?”
The latch clicks and the door opens a crack.
“Why are you being such a jerk to Abuelo?” I ask. “And why did you miss practice today anyway?”
“Bite me, Maddy,” Matt says and shuts the door in my face.
I can never get a straight answer from my brother anymore. Never
ever
.
He never sticks around for long on a Friday evening. So I'm not surprised when he dashes out of the house, tossing a quick goodbye over his shoulder. Not long after, our mom comes in with a couple of bags of groceries.
“Where's your brother?” she asks and looks around, as if he might be hiding somewhere.
“He told us he was going out with friends for pizza,” I say, trying not to meet her eyes.
“Oh, that Mateo loves his pizza,” Mom says, flopping into a chair and kicking off her shoes. He's such a busy guy, isn't he? He's hardly ever home now. How did track go today?”
“It went great, Mom,” I say. “Kat and I still have the same problem. We always seem to break even. I win one, and then she does. If nothing changes, then Coach will have to decide for us.”
“Oh, you'll see, Maddy. Something will change one of these days. It always does,” Mom says. “I'd better go grab some dinner before Abuelo puts everything away.”
She wanders out to the kitchen with her grocery bags. I can hear her chattering away in Spanish to my grandfather. But I'm not really listening, because I'm actually wondering if my mom could be right.
And if something really does change, will it be for good or bad?
Ever since the snow melted and the nicer weather began after March break, Kat and I have had the same Saturday-morning routine. We meet at the school track to practice. Some of our friends head over there too. It's a good place to chill, have a few laughs and get a workout.
We have it set up with the high school, as well as with the custodian staff. They're on hand to supervise the various clubs that need to use the school on the weekend. The drama club has weekend rehearsals for the May show, along with a glee club. And community basketball teams often use the gym for tournaments.
I make a note of who has shown up at the track. It's all the usual suspects. Keener members of the track-and-field team who feel guilty if they don't practice on the weekend. Some are kids I met when I joined the team this year. Then there are the old faces. My fellow Wentworth teammates from last year. Some of the grade-nine kids blend in easily with everyone. And then there are others who circle each other like nervous dogs sniffing out their rivals.
Zenia and some other high jumpers have already dragged out their equipment. She has to share her time between the track
and
the field now. But I know her heart is still mostly on the track. Our old teammates, Paige and Isabel, are trying to outjump each other at the long-jump pit with some of the guys.
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.
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 subâand 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.”
