Raising the Stakes by Trudee Romanek Read Free Book Online Page B

and then I realize why. We always start from the huddle, but it seems weird to huddle again when we’ve already planned the scene.
    I didn’t think that part through.
    Mr. J. comes back in and sees us all standing around. “What’s up?”
    Everyone looks at me. “We were talking through some problems,” I say, “with the rhyming.”
    “Ah! Excellent,” he says. “Let’s really work on that then. Into a circle for a rhyming exercise.”
    My teammates say nothing about what actually happened as we start giving each other words to find rhymes for. And maybe it’s my imagination, but it seems like they’re firing a lot more words at me than at anyone else.
    No matter. It’s all in the name of better scenes.
    When practice finishes, I follow Faith to where our backpacks sit side by side.
    “Well, that was interesting,” I whisper.
    She just looks at me. Then she turns and disappears out the doorway.

Nine
    I n the week after that practice, I call Faith a few times. We talk, but she doesn’t usually say much, like she isn’t really into the conversation. She hasn’t answered many of my texts either. We still walk to school each day, but it seems as though she and Nigel talk more to each other than they do to me. On this particular day, as the three of us head into Harrington, there’s a wind whipping around that’s so bitingly cold, no one’s saying much of anything.
    In spite of my best efforts, I haven’t been able to convince Mr. J. or the team to add another practice into our schedule. Here we are with zones in only two days— two days!—and all we’ve got left is our regular practice after school today. I could spit.
    “Hey,” I call over the wind, “let’s do a word association.”
    Nigel grunts. Faith says nothing.
    “Come on,” I plead. “It’ll help us in Theme.”
    No response.
    “Okay, I’ll start. Um…growth.”
    Silence. Neither of them so much as looks at me.
    Great. Now I can’t sneak in this kind of practice either.
    Over the past few days I’ve begun to worry that there’s a real possibility we won’t get to nationals. I nibble on my lip and try to remember the teams from last year’s regional competition. I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten better than we were last year. Even without the extra practices, we’re still a strong team, I think. Aren’t we? And I’ve learned a lot of new and useful stuff…though my teammates haven’t exactly let me share it all with them.
    It has to be enough. And besides, there’s still today’s practice…
    ***
    I bang my locker shut.
    Where the heck is Faith? Improv practice starts in five minutes, but there’s no sign of her. I can’t wait any longer.
    I sure hope she’s going to be there. I hope they’re all going to be there! We haven’t had the whole team together in weeks. I head down the hall, trying not to panic and making a mental count of which teammates are at school today. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them all.
    As I reach the room, I hear lots of voices inside—a whole team’s worth? I can only hope.
    The conversation dies down as I walk in. Faith is here, but Asha’s not. Again . Next year we should write up a team contract or something. If you can’t make it to practice, you get kicked off the team—simple as that.
    “Okay,” says Mr. J. “Let’s start with a different rhyming warm-up.”
    Suits me fine. I’m hoping Hanna has practiced her rhyming skills, but we’ll see.
    The warm-up flows around the circle, with each of us, in order, calling out a new rhyme for Mr. J.’s starting word, rake . We get around the circle more than twice before we run out of words. Not bad. Next, Mr. J. gives us night . The team claps and hoots for Hanna’s clever rhyme parasite and for Nigel’s gigabyte , but when I offer meteorite , there’s no response at all. Weird. We get twice around with night too.
    “Great work,” Mr. J. says. “On to a Style event. Everyone know what you’re doing?” Nods all around. “So, no