Archenemy by Patrick Hueller Read Free Book Online Page A

stadium is empty. I sit in the bleachers and look down at the field. I imagine I’m down there at the bottom of the valley, clearing a soccer ball out of Fraser High territory as a Woodvine player closes in on me. I imagine the crowd groaning as another potential goal is kicked away by Addie Williams.
    Then I realize it’s me groaning, not the crowd. I’m groaning because I’ll never get to deny Woodvine or any other team from scoring again.
    And yet there I still am, on the field, as Woodvine charges once more at Fraser’s goal. The imaginary crowd around me gets more and more excited as a Woodvine forward crosses the ball to the middle. Of course, they shouldn’t be excited. They shouldn’t stand or cheer or hold their collective breath. Because I’m down there with my superhero calves, waiting to launch into the air and head the cross away.
    Except I can’t jump. I can’t even move. Eva Riley has her hands wrapped around me and is holding me down. She’s driving with her legs. She’s tackling me.
    The real me stands up from the bleacher bench just as the imaginary me falls to the ground.
    All this time, I’ve been in a daze—driving from one field to another, trying to get used to the idea of never playing soccer again.
    But I’m not dazed anymore. I’m mad.
    I’m not the one who’s going to give up her spot on the soccer field. At least, I’m not the
only
one. If I’m going, Eva’s going with me.

I
    t’s getting dark by the time I pull into Eva’s driveway.
    The driveway’s empty, as I knew it would be. Her family is at church like they are every night.
    The front door is unlocked as usual.
    I take out my phone and look at the time. 7:51 P.M. They usually go to the seven o’clock service on weekdays, but I’m not exactly sure how long it takes. An hour, maybe? So I’d better hurry.
    â€œYou first, girl,” I say.
    I’m talking to Belle, who I brought with me. I was worried my parents would catch me when I stopped at home to get her, but they weren’t there. They’re probably out looking for me, I know, but I can’t worry about that now.
    I have blackmail material to find.
    I follow Belle into the house and let her go racing through the house to find her friend. They haven’t seen each other in months, and Belle is frantic with excitement. She’s got a great nose, so to her the whole house must reek of beagle.
    I listen to her dash around the downstairs as I head up to Eva’s room.
    Truthfully, I’m not exactly sure what I hope to find in here. Something incriminating, I guess. Something that will prove Eva’s the one who’s been harassing me and not the other way around. A diary, maybe. I don’t know for sure that Eva keeps a diary, but I think there’s a pretty good chance. After all the letters she’s written to me, maybe she writes to herself too.
    Still, even if she does have a diary, it’s not like I can just show it to the world—not unless I want people to know I trespassed in her house. But maybe I can blackmail her with it.
Unless you tell the truth
, I could tell her,
I’m going to make your FEELINGS public knowledge.
    Yikes. Who knew I was capable of being this nasty?
    A part of me thinks I’m not—that even if I find a diary, I’ll never use it to blackmail Eva, no matter what she’s done. But another part of me—the angry part—kind of likes this plan.
    As I search the room, I can’t help noticing how messy it is. Clothes are everywhere, which is strange. Eva’s not a neat freak, but she’s no slob either. What’s even stranger is all the dresser drawers. The bottom drawers are open and look rummaged through. Pant legs and sweatshirt arms spill over the drawers’ edges. The top drawers have been pulled completely out and toppled over. Balled-up socks and bunched-up underwear clutter the