How to Ditch Your Fairy by Justine Larbalestier Read Free Book Online

parking fairy.
    I hauled out my fencing gear, changed faster than lightning, slung my bag over my shoulder, and crossed the halway at as close to a run as I could while always keeping one foot in contact with the ground (running in the hals is a demerit). When I got to the nearest exit I pushed through the door, hoicked my bag higher up my shoulder, sprinted down the steps, and along the narrow paths between courts, paddocks, and ovals.
    Despite the purportedly world-class drainage system, mud and puddles were everywhere. The rain that hadn’t been loud enough to wake me up last night had made a mess of everything. I jumped and skirted the puddles as best as I could off balance with a bag ful of foils and sabers. Soiled sporting attire (before playing) is a demerit.
    I could wipe down my shoes and swap over my socks for clean ones, but could I do that and arrive on time? Looking at my watch again would just slow me down. I lifted my knees higher, digging for more speed.
    In the distance, I could see the shuttle arriving at Merckx, disgorging its load of on- time B-stream fencers.
    Frang, blast, and dung.
    I ran even harder, skirting the rugby paddock, populated with big-necks doing tackling drils. Ouch. Then around the soccer field.
    By the time I arrived, warm-up had begun. I did what I could about my shoes and socks, then sprinted around the corner straight into Coach Van Dyck. We hit hard and went flying backward, neither of us faling. She grunted. I grunted. We both took another step back, semi-winded.
    “Fairy dung,” I breathed.
    “Swearing is an infraction,” Coach said. “So is running indoors.
    As is arriving late. That’s three infractions, Charlie. Three. It could have been four—I’ve kindly not included your almost kiling me as an infraction.” Coach looked down at the tablet glowing in her hand. “Says here you showed up for tennis incorrectly attired. Four demerits in one day, Charlie.” She shook her head. “You now have eight, which earns you a game suspension. You are aware of that, Charlie?”
    “Yes, Coach,” I said, biting my cheek so I wouldn’t groan out loud. A game suspension. My first. I realy hoped it wouldn’t be cricket.
    Steffi walked past us, his fencing gear slung over his shoulder, doos and loose-limbed, as if he were gliding rather than walking. I sighed. He winked at me and then nodded at Coach, who nodded back.
    “But isn’t he—,” I began. He was later than me. Why wasn’t he getting a demerit?
    Coach wasn’t listening. “A one- game suspension,” she said, leafing through her pages. “No cricket meet for you Saturday.”
    I nodded. I’d never had a game suspension before. Why did it have to be cricket? I love cricket. Why not tennis?
    “I am disappointed.” She lowered her eyes and proceeded to bore holes in mine. I wholy believed in her setting- students- on-fire fairy. “I expect the absolute best from you today, Charlie.
    Beyond your best. Do you understand?”
    I gulped, then nodded, trying not to squirm.
    “I expect no further infractions of any kind.”
    “Yes, Coach.”
    “Your very best effort, Charlie.”
    I nodded and walked over to the warm-up area. The first person I saw was Fiorenze Stupid- Name stretching out her quads. Our eyes met briefly. The word for how she looked at me: “disdainful.”
    Rubbing it in that she had Steffi and I didn’t.
    Doxhead fairy.
    I wasn’t sure which one I meant: hers or mine.

CHAPTER 8
Best Dad Ever
    Days walking: 61
    Demerits: 8
    Conversations with Steffi: 7
    Doos clothing acquired: 0
    Game suspensions: 1
    D ad was waiting outside the main gates, sitting on a fire hydrant, sketching. He didn’t notice me until I was standing right in front of him making a coughing noise.
    “Hi, Charlie.” He stood up, closed his sketchbook, slid his pencil down the spiral, and put the book in his back pocket.
    “Hi, Dad,” I said, a little nervous. There were precedents for Dad meeting me after school, but none of them