Fly Away by Nora Rock Read Free Book Online Page B

do you mean, gone?” Jada said.
    â€œGone, as in not here,” I snapped.
    â€œDid she take all her stuff?”
    Amy Jo’s question stopped me in my tracks. I thought back to the room I’d just left. There’d been a blue skirt hanging in the closet and a bottle of contact lens solution on the counter.
    â€œNo,” I answered, suddenly relieved.
    â€œHer stuff’s still there.”
    When I talked to Coach Saylor, she pointed out that it was eight in the morning. Arielle wasn’t even late for breakfast yet. “She should have said where she was going,” Coach acknowledged, “but I’ve known Arielle a long time. Sometimes she needs space. Head back to your rooms and get dressed. Meet me in the restaurant at eight thirty. I’m sure Arielle will be back soon.”
    The girls straggled away, leaving me feeling a bit sheepish. But I couldn’t shake the bad feeling, no matter what anyone said.
    Arielle did not come back for breakfast. And, she was not back in time for our ten-thirty bus to the conference center.
    And, even worse, Arielle hadn’t left behind all of her stuff. She’d left a suitcase, the skirt and the lens cleaner, but her makeup bag was gone and so were her laptop, her purse, her boots and her coat. All the important stuff.
    It almost seemed as though Arielle had left the suitcase as a decoy. To avoid suspicion long enough to get away.
    Once we figured that out, the real panic set in.
    We left the bus idling outside for half an hour while we searched the hotel, knocking on doors, asking questions, handing out Coach’s cell phone number to anyone who would take it. Since Arielle had left with her boots and her coat, we knew we were unlikely to find her inside, but we had to try. Finally, when we couldn’t wait any longer and still make our competition slot on time, the chaperones herded all the girls onto the bus.
    Some of the girls were whispering nervously. Others were silent. A few, like Sharon and Amy Jo, were crying. Realizing that we needed something distracting to do, Ms. Wilkinson—Keri’s mom—suggested we do each other’s hair. For competitions, we wear ponytails with ribbons in red, white and black, our team colors. Every Soar team wears black and white with one accent color. I fumbled hopelessly with Priya’s fine, shiny hair. It kept slipping out of my fingers before I could get the elastic on.
    â€œThis is ridiculous!” I said, letting go of her hair and the ribbons. “Arielle is missing. Out there!” I pointed out the bus window at the unfamiliar city, with its graffiti-covered walls and crawling traffic. “And we’re doing each other’s hair and heading for a stupid competition like nothing has happened? We should—”
    â€œNow, Marnie,” interrupted Ms. Wilkinson, “your coach is at the hotel right now, on the phone with the police—”
    â€œBut we should be helping!” said Lucy. “We should be looking for her!”
    Ms. Wilkinson shook her head and spoke sternly. “No. Nobody leaves. This is a serious situation. We will not have another girl separated from this group. Do I make myself clear?”
    Sharon let out a loud, choking sob.
    Ms. Wilkinson softened. “I know it seems strange to be going into a competition at a time like this. I know it doesn’t seem important compared to finding Arielle. But there’s nothing more you girls can safely do to help.” She bent down and scooped up Priya’s tangled ribbons. “You searched the hotel. Now you need to stay together.”
    Ashleigh nodded her agreement. I marveled at her calmness. I’d never realized that bad situations bring out the best in natural leaders. I wished I was more like Ashleigh.
    â€œYou came here to perform,” Ms. Wilkinson continued. “It’s better than sitting around the hotel in hysterics. So that’s what we’re going to