Flying by Carrie Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

disappeared.”
    Lyle’s mouth sharpens into a straight line. His hands stop moving. “Mana…”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œDo you feel like you’re going to throw up?”
    â€œNo. Why?”
    â€œI think you have a concussion.” He puts his face an inch away from mine and stares hard into my eyes.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I lean away.
    He follows me and says, “Seeing if your pupils are the same size.”
    â€œI don’t have a concussion!” I stand up and storm away. Pain scissors down my leg.
    Lyle runs after me and wraps his arm around my waist, which feels much sexier than it should. “Yes, you do. That guy obviously whacked you in the head. You should sit down. You might pass out.”
    â€œI am not going to pass out.”
    â€œI think you are.”
    â€œLyle, cut it out!”
    He pulls me toward the bench. “Sit down, Mana.”
    â€œDakota disappeared. I swear. It was like some sort of sci-fi movie. It was insane, but that’s what happened, and I don’t need to sit down!” I yell as he shoves me back down again.
    â€œWatch.” I make myself break out of his grip normally and calmly, standing up slowly and waving off his arms. “Watch what I can do.”
    No tumbling run again. Just a launch, and I’m up into a quad twist, a men’s gymnastics move that is level ten or beyond, really, and smack —my feet punch another hole in the ceiling during the last rotation. Poor Deputy Bagley. That’s going to be hard to explain in his report. Then I’m down, sticking the landing, staring into Lyle’s astonished face.
    â€œWhat the hell?” He grabs my hands in his. I like how his fingers feel.
    â€œI know, right?”
    â€œHoly … Wow, that’s hot,” he blurts.
    â€œI know, right? Wait. Really? You think it’s hot?” I blurt right back.
    Just then, the locker-room door opens and Mrs. Bray, our cheering coach, barges inside. Her face is all twisted up with rage. Her pudgy hands go to her waist. “The game is back on. You should both be out there right now. And what in heaven’s name are you doing in the girls’ locker room, Lyle? Oh! The lockers! Oh, heavens! Are those holes in the ceiling?”
    Lyle backs away from me and holds up his bloody hands, trying to calm Mrs. Bray down. “Mana got hurt.”
    Mrs. Bray gasps and turns white. She and blood do not get along. One time I came down funky from a twist and knocked Seppie’s nose with my shin, and it started bleeding all over the mat. Mrs. Bray passed out.
    â€œOh, don’t pass out, Mrs. Bray,” I say, rushing toward her.
    But of course she doesn’t listen. No way. Because that would be what would happen on a good day, and today is definitely not that.

 
    CHAPTER 3
    It takes almost an entire quarter to revive Mrs. Bray, find Deputy Bagley—who tells me we need to make an appointment to talk—and for things to straighten out again. The game continues on, with Thomas being his superstar-point- guard self and making Seppie swoon silently. We crush Central. All is good.
    But it’s not, because I keep remembering what I saw and what I did.
    â€œIt’s time to start…”
    How can someone spit acid?
    â€œA new tradition…”
    Or vanish?
    â€œThe Knights are back…”
    I mean, Dakota and that guy vanished—just—poof!—gone. And I leaped around like I was in Cirque du Soleil.
    â€œAnd we’re on a mission.”
    Lyle peeks over at me, even though we are supposed to be staring straight ahead like good little cheerleaders.
    â€œThe time has come. What more can we say?”
    I wink at him to show I am not concussed.
    â€œWest High. Falcons. We’ll blow…”
    We all blow a kiss. I blow mine at him. His face actually flushes.
    â€œâ€¦ you away!”
    Right at the buzzer, Thomas sinks a three-pointer from way outside the