Cheerleader of the Year. Anne could visualize
the beautiful trophy. The weight and feel of
it. The applause during the ceremony. It was hers,
no doubt. She stood near the street corner, gazing
down the road at the line of cars. The roaring of
engines was a reminder of her excitement. Her
motor raced too. She turned to Beth Wilson,
standing next to her. "What time is it now?"
"Two minutes since the last time you asked.
Relax. We're early. And besides, my sister is never
late for anything. Especially this."
Crash!
As another minute passed, Anne's stomach tied
itself into a few more knots. She couldn't wait to
get to the weekend cheer camp. This was the weekend
they'd announce Avery Cheerleader of the
Year, and Anne was going to be the school's only
seventh grader to ever take home that award. She
was sure of it. Of course, the hints from the other
girls on the team assured her even more.
She looked at her watch. "It's 4:37."
Beth giggled. "Jill has been a cheer counselor
for two years now. She's not going to be late.
She said she'd pick us up at 4:45, remember? I
can't believe you're making such a big deal over
this Cheerleader of the Year thing." Her tone
reeked of jealousy.
Anne bounced in place, antsy and anxious.
Why couldn't Jill be early this time? Anne wanted
to get to camp and get this fantastic weekend
started. But what if Beth and her sister had devised
a plot to keep her from going? That would
certainly give Beth a better chance to win the
award. That was silly, thinking like that. She had
to get a hold of herself and stop worrying.
"There she is," Beth said, pointing across the
highway. Jill sat three cars back at the intersection,
waiting for the light to turn green. "Jill!"
Beth yelled, waving her arms and running several
yards away to get Jill's attention.
Anne felt a lift of relief. She crossed her arms
and swayed back and forth, full of energy. She
wished they could just run across the street, hop
into Jill's car, and finally be on their way. But for
safety's sake, she stayed well back from the road.
Traffic had slowed to a crawl as a long train
of cars crept by with their headlights on. Anne
watched as a cop zoomed around them, the sun
glinting off the polished chrome of his motorcycle.
He motioned the cars to continue on
through the red light. That's when Anne realized
that it was a funeral procession. A slow . . .
turtle-crawling . . . snail-inching . . . funeral procession.
Jill was caught on the other side. Darn!
It could be another fifteen minutes or more before
she crossed the intersection.
Anne figured whoever had died must have been
one popular fellow. The headlights stretched as
far into the distance as she could see. Come on,
come on! Do they have to drive so slow? The light
changed again, and she looked down at her
watch. 4:42. Check-in time at the camp was
7:00, and it would take at least two hours to get
there. She stood, bouncing up and down on her
toes, as though that would get the traffic moving
more quickly. Counting cars didn't help either.
The light changed again.
Beth stood some distance away making hand
signals to her sister. Anne wished they'd waited
across the street to begin with. That would have
made things much easier, but there was no pavement
on the other side.
A pale blue car rolled slowly to the red light
and proceeded through. Anne turned toward
Beth, who was still smiling and yakking in some
weird sign language. At least Beth was smiling.
Anne refused to smile until she was on her way.
And she was saving her biggest smile for the
Cheerleader of the Year ceremony.
As Anne turned back, she saw a white pickup
truck approaching from the other direction. The
man looked as though he had no intention of
slowing down. The traffic light was green on his
side, after all. Anne didn't see the motorcycle cop
anywhere around. The pickup raced faster, the
man obviously in as big a hurry as she was. He
must have been concentrating on the green light
rather than the traffic. The blue car was still proceeding
through when the pickup crashed into it,
creating a horrific sound of crunching metal and
breaking glass. The pickup bounced off the car,
flew backward, and was rolling . . . rolling . . .
right toward Anne!
She dove out of the way, feeling the wind from
the pickup sweep by her. Dirt and debris rolled
with it. She hit the pavement hard, wondering
for a moment if she'd been struck by the truck.
Anne cowered briefly, shielding her head. The vehicle
had just missed her, but only by inches.
She lay on the ground, her head buried. She
peeked up to see a panicked crowd of people hitting
their brakes, hopping out of cars, and hurrying
to help the drivers and passengers. Beth's
unnecessary screams were the loudest.
A woman and a teenage boy rushed over to
Anne. "Are you hurt?" the lady asked.
Anne recognized the boy-Troy Messina. He
and Anne had been in school together since second
grade, and he'd made it obvious ever since
then that he had a major crush on her.
Anne felt like she'd been knocked down. She
sat up and examined a large scrape on her
elbow. Other than some dirt in her left eye, she
felt okay. "I'm all right."
She'd fallen on her right side, which had taken
the worst of it. Her Avery Wildcat t-shirt looked
like it had been used to clean a gutter. And her
arm and leg were both covered in black grime.
"Well, okay then," said Mrs. Messina, her face
looking unsure. "Come on, Troy. Let's see if anyone
needs some assistance." She hurried away to
the crowd gathered at the pickup. Troy hesitated.
"Let me help you up, Anne." He fidgeted a little,
then extended his hand.
Beth knelt down next to Anne. "I'll take care
of her."
Troy scratched his head. He looked like he
wanted to speak, but the words were trapped in
his throat. He nodded, and jogged away to where
his mother stood.
"Were you hit?" Beth asked, her voice trembling.
Anne noticed the tears streaking her face.
She shook her head no.
Beth let out a huge sigh. "You just sit and rest
a moment, Anne. The good news is that traffic
is stopped. Jill can cross over now."
Anne laughed at that. "Good news? Traffic
will be stopped here forever."
She felt some relief when she looked over her
shoulder and saw some people helping the man
in the pickup. He came out with barely a scratch.
The people in the blue car seemed fine too.
Beth nudged Anne. "We could walk over to
Jill's car. I bet she can turn around and find a different
route."
"All right," she said to Beth. "Unless they need
me here as a witness or something."
Beth jerked her head up as though scanning
the crowd. "I'd say they have plenty of witnesses!"
She pulled Anne's arm to get her on her feet.
Anne tried to stand, but the moment she put
her weight on her left foot, a hot flame of pain
shot through her calf. "Ow!" She collapsed.
"What is it?" Beth asked, looking her over.
"I don't know." She tried to stand again, but it
was like someone held a lit match to her leg.
"Come on. We need to hurry."
Anne tried again. The searing pain pierced
her.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know," Anne said, suddenly feeling
panicked. "I can't stand up!"
