Coach is pissed at her tomorrow, at least Mel can say she didn’t give up. It is for him but it’s also for them.
After putting the loaner stick away, Mel glances around and makes sure the gym looks just as it did before they snuck in. Then she doubles back to Coach’s classroom. Though she swore she left it open, the door is closed.
Mel peers in the window.
Phoebe is gone.
And so is Coach’s laptop.
Mel sprints down the hall, calling for Phoebe. She sticks her head out of the athletic director’s office window and looks at the girls. “Did Phoebe come out this way?”
Ali shakes her head. “No. Isn’t she with you?”
Mel takes a deep breath. Tries to think clearly. Tries not to panic. “She must have walked out a different way.” Mel sweeps her leg over the sill, crouches on the ledge, and pulls the window closed. “Let’s spread out and see if we can find her.”
One of the girls says, “Hey, Mel, is that your car?”
Mel hops down to the ground. Indeed it is. Headlights click on, the engine purring already. She steps forward, expecting Phoebe to pull around to where the team is.
Instead, Phoebe guns Mel’s Mini Cooper straight out of the parking lot so fast the front end scrapes the little speed bump, a million sparks brightening the night for a brief, scary moment.
SATURDAY, AUGUST 27
3:22 A.M.
ALI
Ali stares into the dark as if waiting for Phoebe to pull a U-turn and come back. Mel does too, because a joke like that would be totally Phoebe.
Ali swallows. “Did Phoebe say where she was going?”
Mel is visibly shaken. “No.”
“What happened? Did you two have a fight?”
Mel doesn’t answer. Which is an answer all its own.
Ali knew Mel and Phoebe were in a weird place for most of the summer. But it wasn’t until she got a call in the middle of the night from Phoebe’s phone that Ali understood just how weird.
It was nearly one in the morning. Ali had been streaming a K-drama on her phone and must have fallen asleep. When it started to buzz and she saw Phoebe’s name on the screen, Ali felt terrible. She’d dropped the ball with Phoebe big-time. Ali knew Phoebe was struggling after her second surgery, but she hadn’t reached out. Not because she didn’t care. Because Ali was struggling too.
She picked up and heard someone else’s voice. One she didn’t recognize.
“Umm, is this Ali?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Tracy Costello. I’m Pete Costello’s little sister. On the basketball team.”
Ali’s head was swimming. “Okay …”
“I’m sorry to call you so late, but I’m at a party at Derek Noble’s house with Phoebe and she’s pretty wasted.” Tracy sighed. “Like … shooting-baskets-in-her-underwear-level wasted. I found her clothes but she won’t put them on. Everyone else is passed out, and you were the first person in her contacts who I kind of sort of knew and … sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m on my way.”
Ali stripped out of her nightgown and pulled on a romper. She grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt as backup for Phoebe and got to the party five minutes later.
There was Phoebe, shooting three-pointers in a cotton bra and panties, swaying on her feet but nailing every shot. Tracy sat cross-legged on the edge of the driveway, watching. She had Phoebe’s clothes neatly folded next to her.
“Ali!” Phoebe was jovial enough.
“Hey, Phoebe,” she said.
Tracy pulled Ali aside and quickly filled her in.
That afternoon, Tracy had posted a random old picture and tagged everyone in their neighborhood crew. She held it up for Ali to see. The kids were lined up on someone’s front lawn, everyone in swimsuits and wrapped in too-thin towels. Phoebe was the only girl in a bikini, basketball on her hip, her legs bruised and scraped and pocked with bug bites. Derek was next to her, flexing nonexistent muscles.
After Tracy posted the picture, she and Phoebe began messaging back and forth. They were friendly at school but Tracy was a freshman, the little sister, and they hadn’t properly caught up in years. Tracy mentioned the party at Derek’s house that night. It was a lot of the basketball guys, but pretty much everyone from the old gang would be there too. Phoebe agreed to stop by.
Actually, the way Phoebe put it in her text was It’s not like I have jack shit else to do.
Ali remembered then that this was the third day of Kissawa camp. Their entire team was there, except Mel, who she’d heard was