Girls Only! (27 page)

“In the
best
way . . .”
If Mom only knew
, she thought.

“Oh, honey, let’s do this in God’s timing,” Mom said.

“Okay,” Manda was quick to answer. “But a little help from some of God’s friends won’t hurt anything, right?”

Mom stood up then, said she was tired and ready for a bedtime snack, and did Manda want to join her in the kitchen? In other words, it was time to bring this particular discussion to a polite but swift end.

Manda was smart enough to let the Matthew Greenberg issue drop. For now.

Star Status

Chapter Four

Manda awoke in the night, trying to get a grip on the dream that had startled her awake. The dream had been sad; there was still a lumpy feeling in her throat, like instant mashed potatoes that someone had made with too little hot water or milk. The feeling was all globbed up . . . stuck to her throat.

Her room was dimly lit by only the hallway night-light. She could see the outline of several posters featuring downhill ski champs on her wall, including American-born Picabo Street, German skier Katja Seizinger, and Austrian powerhouse Hermann Maier.

Manda rubbed her temples, trying to recall her dream. At least it hadn’t been a nightmare. But it
had
been sad, and she didn’t know why. Things were all mixed up in her head now. Confused and overwhelmed, she cried softly, using her pillow as a buffer, hoping she wouldn’t awaken her mother. There was no need for Adelina Garcia’s peaceful sleep to be disturbed, for her to come running to comfort Manda as she often had done in the past. No need for soothing whispers. Those days of sadness and despair were past. At least, she wanted her mom to think so.

Manda was tough enough to handle whatever junk was lodged in her subconscious. “Tough and tumble,” Mom liked to call her, referring to Manda’s approach to speed and daring on the slopes. So why couldn’t she conquer the treacherous slopes of her daily life?

There was, of course, the complication of Manda’s father, the fact that he’d never been heard from after leaving Alpine Lake when she was just two years old. A few rumors had filtered around here and there as to his whereabouts, but no one seemed to have any rock-solid info. Mom was perfectly entitled to remarry, having been granted a divorce due to abandonment several years ago. But the gaping hole in the whole scenario bothered Manda. If not consciously, then it was buried deep in her heart.

She knew she was taking on way too much these days. At just twelve years old, what
could
she do, really? Manda knew she’d have to lighten up if she was going to impress the socks off any VIPs hanging out on the slopes of Eagle’s Point at the Dressel Hills Downhill Classic.

Just cool it
, she told herself. Yeah, right. Like
that
was all it took to make things better, talking to yourself in the middle of the night. Having a one-way conversation in your head.

“Are you coming to ballet tomorrow?” Livvy asked her at their lockers the next morning.

“I’ll think about it,” Manda said.

“What about Girls Only Club?”

She paused. “Yeah, maybe.”

Livvy was kind. She said no more. But looking at her, Manda could sense the wheels whirring in her friend’s pretty head. No question, Livvy was probably thinking that one of their club members wasn’t pulling her weight anymore. Which, in a lot of ways, was true.

At least Livvy didn’t shoot her mouth off like Jenna would have—in fact, the way Jenna had yesterday on the phone. Livvy smiled her sweetest smile, turned to the locker she shared with Jenna, and began pulling textbooks down from the top shelf, stuffing her backpack for the day.

“You’re
not mad at me, are you?” Manda said, opening her own locker.

“Why should I be?”

“But someone else is . . . right?” Manda was thinking of Jenna.

Livvy nodded her head, her auburn hair swirling about her shoulders. “The prez is threatening to call a special meeting . . . uh, about, well . . .” Livvy’s pretty face grew more serious. “To tell you the truth, Jenna thinks maybe you’re just too distracted, as a club member.”

“Aren’t
all
of us preoccupied with our sports?” Manda shot back. “Isn’t that what the club’s support system is all about?”

“You know what . . . if you’d just talk to Jenna, that might help. Level with her,” suggested Livvy. “Tell her you actually
like
coming to club meetings, that you aren’t just using your upcoming race as—”

“As what?” Manda cut in.

Livvy hoisted her backpack up over one petite shoulder. “Well, as an excuse, I guess . . . to space out during Girls Only.”

“Is that honestly what you think?”

“We think you’re in way over your head,” was Livvy’s reply.

“Excuse me? What’s this
we think
stuff?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What did Livvy know, anyway? She thought back to her very private conversation with Heather. Yep, she’d leveled with Heather about some personal things. So . . . what was all this stuff Livvy was saying? Had Heather actually broken a confidence and blabbed to Jenna and Livvy about Manda’s obsession with her father’s whereabouts?

How could she?
Manda thought, wishing Heather were here at school instead of being schooled at home.

Livvy pressed her lips together, then said, “I’d better not say any more. I’ve probably said too much already.”

If the bell hadn’t rung just then, Manda might’ve gone off on Livvy, telling her what she thought of Jenna and Heather both.

Really, she was relieved to hear the bell signaling first period. Time to get on with her life . . . her school life. Forget social life. Jenna, Livvy, and Heather could have their precious meetings without her if that’s what they wanted. And they could kick her out of the club, too, for all she cared. Why were they picking on her, anyway?

Manda tried hard to put an end to the negative notions flying around in her head. The more she stewed over Jenna and Girls Only, the worse she would continue to feel all day. And the poorer she would perform today after school when she hit the slopes.

I don’t need this!
She closed her locker and hurried down the hallway to class. She thought of her beloved harmonica, wishing it were nestled deep in her school bag. About now, she could use some calming down.

Star Status

Chapter Five

Manda gazed at the hazardous downhill course. Like a slumbering white bear, the mountain towered above the town of Alpine Lake, its precipitous slope lying in wait for her. Today, the vertical drop looked unusually steep. She could see the first gate—two poles with a red rectangular panel between them. Fewer gates were placed on the course for downhill races than in the slalom, giant slalom, and Super G, or super giant slalom. The gates on the downhill course basically provided a safety precaution to keep skiers from going too fast. And to keep skiers away from particularly treacherous areas.

I’m a winning machine
, Manda told herself. She had been trying to pump herself up mentally and emotionally. But today had been difficult for her. Heather, her all-time best friend, had possibly broken a confidence, blabbing important, private info to Jenna and Livvy.

Bummed, she crouched low at the starting gate, waiting for the signal. Rocking back and forth on her best skis, she could see the valley below. Narrow streets neatly lined up, mapped out in rows with mostly Victorian houses on either side.

Livvy Hudson’s old house was one of the many gray-and-white three-story residences on Main Street. She lived there with her widowed father—an artist with a studio high in the eaves—and her fussy grandmother, a gourmet cook.

Jenna Song and her Korean-American family lived in a large, older house, too. Jenna’s attic bedroom was not only huge, it was the incredible retreat for the Friday Girls Only Club meetings. Complete with a barre placed in front of floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the place was spacious and airy. The ideal spot for Jen, Livvy, Heather, and Manda to meet once a week, as well as to practice ballet to some of their favorite music. They’d even presented several full-scale musicals for their families featuring dance and drama.

Heather Bock and her cute older brother, Kevin—also her ice-dancing partner—along with their parents and younger brother and sister, lived not far from both Livvy and Jenna. In fact, all of Manda’s closest friends lived within walking distance.

But now, high on Falcon Ridge, Manda turned her attention away from the valley to the job at hand. Fortunately, there was hardly any wind today. A nice change after a week of blowing and drifting snow causing white-out conditions, not conducive to skiing. At least the run was free of excessive ice buildup today. It was Manda’s pet peeve, and if not handled correctly, a skier’s handicap. A picture-postcard day—the sky was a perfect blue and the mountains were amassed with snow on all sides.

Ski, baby, ski
, she thought as the signal came. She was revved up and ready to face the fear factor.

Swoosh!
She shot out of the starting gate. The snow was too fresh and slowed her down. She wished she might’ve been third or fourth on the team to ski today. By then, the others would have pushed the snow off the course a bit. But Coach had them draw numbers for this practice, the way it would be in Dressel Hills at the
real
racing event.

Eager to push her speed to the limit, her raw nerve was on the line. But her wits were out of focus. Hard as she tried, she could not still the echo of words from Livvy’s lips.
The prez is threatening to call . . .

She tried to corral the destructive thought, gather it up in a basket in her mind and hurl it over the abyss to her left on this steep and dangerous course.

The margin for error was small on a slope like this. It was much too precarious for her not to focus.

Swish!
Past the first gate, she felt herself losing control in the air. Struggling to right herself, she used her ski pole to balance as she was airborne. Then,
wham
, her skis pounded the packed surface with her landing.

“Ski for yourself
,” Heather had encouraged her.
“Forget about impressing anyone.”

Zooming down the course, she felt herself shifting too far to the left. She fought hard, but she was helpless. The pull of gravity dragged her down, and she wiped out, sprawled like a butterfly in the snow.
Where’s my dynamite?
she wondered, staring up at the blue of the sky. She got up, thoroughly disgusted with the run.

I can’t let Jen and Livvy get to me. I won’t derail my chances!

Yet she’d have to wait her turn, her chance at a second run. The next skier would be shooting out of the gate at the top within minutes. She’d blown her first run of the day. Her supposed
friends
had whacked her a good one.

Maybe it was a good thing she’d made no effort to settle things with the proud prez of the club. She could’ve told Livvy she would drop by Jenna’s tomorrow, if only for a few minutes to say “hi,” show some interest in the club. No problem. But thinking about it now, she felt secretly good about ignoring the girls’ continual pleas for her company. Good
and
glad. There was no chance she’d make it to any ridiculous special meetings, either. She had too much to accomplish by the race.

Rubbing her sore leg where she’d fallen, Manda winced, though not so much from physical pain. She was almost sure Jenna would see to it that the three remaining members would vote out the one delinquent member—her.

So what
, she thought.
Let them kick me out!

The ride home from practice in Mom’s car took longer than Manda had hoped. Tons of homework awaited her attention. Besides that, she wanted to talk to Heather before it got too late. Wanted to give her dearest friend a call and find out what was going on—who told whom what . . . and why.

Mom stopped off at the grocery store, then made a pit stop at the home of a church friend who was altering a skirt for her. “I’ll be just a minute,” she said, getting out of the car and hurrying across the street.

Meanwhile, Manda wished she’d brought along some homework, to get a jump on math especially. She was still kicking herself mentally for her lousy run on the slopes. Even though the first attempt was a total wash, the second and third were nothing to brag about, either. Her speed was as slow as a turtle compared to her time on
better
days. Any good skier could’ve beat her out today. And
all
her teammates had done so.

“You’re not losing your fire, are you?” Coach had asked at the base of the mountain.

“Nope,” she’d said, disappointed in herself.

Coach frowned slightly, then said, “First thing tomorrow, you and me . . . we’re back out here.”

“Sure,” she’d replied, tears stinging her eyes. “I’ll be here at dawn.”

“Good. We’ll see if you’ve got what it takes to place—if you can pull out on demand, when it’s just the two of us.”

Bummer. Manda wanted—
needed
—the competition and fervor her teammates offered. Their encouragement, too. Something that was sorely lacking in her non-skiing circle of friends.

Still waiting in the car—impatiently now—for Mom’s return, Manda leaned back on the headrest and tried to relax. If only she were a little older, she could drive herself home. If they had more than one car, that is . . .

Someday, if Matthew Greenberg married her mother, they might finally become a two-car family or more. She’d seen his collection of dust-jacketed clothbound books, rows and rows of them. And there was expensive state-of-the-art electronic equipment in his home office, a big-screen TV in the family room, and a new Porsche in the garage. So, her guess—he was probably rolling in it. For one thing, he didn’t skimp on dinner dates with Mom. He also took her to posh places like the local dinner theater and the expensive Broadway-style production in downtown Denver. Yep, she was almost positive the guy was loaded. How else could he afford to send his young son to a private preschool, as well as to after-school instruction at the village’s elite ski academy? Only rich kids hung out there.