End of the Race by Laurie Halse Anderson

Author:Laurie Halse Anderson [Anderson, Laurie Halse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101575086
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2012-02-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Early Tuesday morning I jump out of bed and into a pair of red denims and a red-and-white-striped T-shirt. No blue jeans allowed at Ambler, but I can still wear my basketball sneaks.

As I’m about to burst into the kitchen, I overhear Gran on the telephone, making arrangements for the New Tools of the Trade conference in Connecticut this Saturday. Wait a minute—Gran’s going to Connecticut. That’s where Drescher’s Speedway is! We’ve got to confront Manny and put pressure on him to open an adoption booth. Somehow I need to talk Gran into taking me. How should I put it? Um, I’ve always wanted to hear you talk about new veterinary tools, and oh, by the way, can we take an itty-bitty side trip to the dog track? No way that would fly. She knows I’ve heard her speech on veterinary tools a million times. I’ll just have to ask straight out.

I gather my books—and my courage—and enter the kitchen. The aroma of coffee hits me. I love the smell but hate the taste. “Uh, Gran?”

“Morning, Maggie. You’re up early,” Gran says as she hangs up the phone. She pours herself some coffee.

“Well, I wanted to read through my lit notes again. We have a test on A Tree Grows in Brooklyn today.” Not convincing. Since when have I ever studied the same notes twice before a test? Once is enough!

“That’s great, Maggie—you’re really working hard in school. Cereal?” Gran brings over a box of Cheerios and two bowls.

“Sure, thanks.” I get the milk and pour. I’m about to pop the trip question, but she speaks first.

“I’m also proud of you for such hard work at basketball. You’re really giving it your all.” Gran squeezes my hand.

Soak it in, MacKenzie!

But Gran’s almost as telepathic as a dog. She senses that I’m not thrilled by that last game. Her gaze is questioning. “Are you enjoying the team this year?”

Should I spill my guts? Before I can make a rational decision, my troubles explode out—all the Darla stuff, how Darla sees everything as a competition, how she hates that I’ve held on to my center position, how she calls me Shorty, how she won’t pass to me. “I can’t even feel happy about beating Fort Washington. Darla punches all the joy out of it.”

Gran puts down her coffee. “Maggie, I know it’s hard dealing with a bully like Darla. Bullies can say and do hurtful things. But they aren’t bad people, just insecure—threatened or jealous of others. I’m not saying you should accept her behavior, but try to have a little empathy; put yourself in her shoes. She’s a new girl at school and probably feels she has something to prove.”

I nod. But it seems my grievances are all hooked together, sort of like the links of a choke collar, because the next thing I know, I’m asking her how long Taryn will be volunteering.

Gran searches my eyes. “Don’t you think Taryn’s a good addition to our team?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty good, but you said you needed her because I had basketball practice and we were shorthanded.

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