Poor Little Dead Girls (10 page)

“Line it up, ladies!” Coach Fitz bellowed, blowing her whistle in three short blasts. The girls immediately sprinted to the 25-yard line and organized themselves into a perfect row.

Sadie fell in line between Jessica and Brett and imitated their posture — each girl was standing with her stick out in front of her, shoulders thrown back and head high. She half expected the coach to start barking orders like a drill sergeant, and her prediction wasn’t far off.

“Welcome to your first practice of the year,” the coach yelled. She stalked from side to side in front of them like a caged panther: head lowered, shoulders slightly hunched, and eyes narrowed. Sadie took a deep breath, trying to mitigate the simultaneous fear and excitement that was bubbling up inside of her. Coach Fitz had been a three-time All-American in college at Virginia, and she was a legend in lacrosse circles.

“I trust that you all spent your vacations wisely, and that you’re in better shape now than when you left us in June. Many of you were on the team last year, but a few of you are new. Some of you were JV, and you think you have what it takes to move up to the next level. Some of you are transfers, and you’re probably used to being the star.” She stopped pacing and looked them slowly up and down.

“But no matter who you are, know this: Every second you are on this field, you will work harder than you would have ever thought possible. You will push yourself past your limits, find new limits, and then push past those. You will push yourself until you break, because you know that showing weakness is not an option. If you want to be a member of the Keating Monarchs national championship lacrosse team, you better want this, badly, and you better plan on showing me that passion every single day you are out here. If you don’t want to eat, sleep, sweat, and bleed lacrosse for the next ten months, then I suggest you leave right now.”

She paused and looked down the line of girls. No one moved.

“For those of you who choose to stay, lacrosse at Keating is not a spring sport. We will practice every Saturday morning until the season starts, and Thayer will run captain’s practices during the week. I expect you all to go if you want to see the field come March. Understood?”

“Yes, Coach Fitz!” the girls yelled.

“Good.” For the first time, she smiled. “Now we’re going to play a little game.”

Sadie looked down the line, expecting the girls to huddle up and be split into teams, but no one moved. Apparently it wasn’t that kind of game.

“If you were a starter last year,” Coach barked, “take a step forward.”

Ten girls stepped forward, leaving the rest on the 25-yard line.

“If you were all-state, all-district, or all-league on this team last year, take another step.”

Thayer, Brett, and another girl stepped forward again, leaving the rest of the girls in two lines behind them.

“If you were on the varsity team last year, step forward.” Everyone except Sadie and five others stepped forward again.

“Now if this is your first year in the Keating lacrosse program, at any level, including summer camp, take one step back.”

Sadie looked around, but no one met her gaze. She was the only one to step back.

“Now take a look around. Look at the girls in front of you, and those behind you. This is where you stand coming into the season, and anyone in front of you is your competition. If any of you girls back there want to make the team, you’re going to have to overcome at least half the people in front of you.”

Sadie forced herself to stare straight ahead. She was in dead last, with five rows of girls stretching ahead of her. One of the girls standing directly in front of Sadie looked like she was barely fourteen, and she was holding her stick awkwardly like it was a shotgun that might go off.

“For the girls in front, look behind you,” Coach continued. “This is your competition, and you can bet they will do everything possible to break you down and take your spot.”

She watched the girls crane their necks, and she felt her cheeks start to get hot. Thayer glared at her from her spot in the front row, that smug smile back on her face. Sadie knew the coach was trying to prove a point — show her she still had a long way to go, and that she couldn’t relax just because she had been recruited. She squeezed her stick tighter, feeling its rough edges cutting into her palm. The pain felt good.

Coach Fitz blew her whistle and sent them on two laps around the field. As Sadie fell into step at the end of the line behind the little freshman, she stared at the coach as she passed. Throw whatever you want at me, she wanted the look to say. You won’t break me that easily. She could swear she saw a smile tugging at the coach’s mouth before she turned away.

When they finally called the practice, it was almost noon. Sadie’s hair was dripping with sweat, and she collapsed on the ground and closed her eyes against the glare. A shadow loomed over her.

“Don’t tell me you thought that was hard.”

She opened her eyes to see Thayer grinning down at her, not a drop of sweat on her face.

“Yeah, it was fucking hard,” Sadie said, still struggling to catch her breath. They had drilled for two hours, then spent the last hour doing interval training, switching off running the stadium stairs, doing ladder sprints on the field, and jogging around the track.

Thayer put a hand on her hip and laughed. “I almost can’t wait ’til Monday. I’m betting you’re the one who pukes.”

Sadie sat up. “Okay, seriously — what is your problem with me?” She stood so they were eye level and lowered her voice. “You and your psychotic, sadistic friends got what you wanted last night. Now leave me alone.”

Thayer raised her eyebrows, looking amused. “I can’t leave you alone, honey. I’m your team captain — if you make the team, that is. And you had better start showing some respect if you want that to happen.” Thayer stepped closer. “As for last night, we did get what we wanted. But trust me — leaving you alone is the last thing you want us to do.”

She waved her fingers and jogged off toward the sideline, leaving Sadie alone on the field. She lay back down and forced herself to stare straight into the sun until her vision blurred. Monday was going to be hell.

She had seen it during her visit last spring, but Sadie was still shocked at how nice the team’s locker room was. Each locker was more like a small closet, with a nameplate, open cubbies for toiletries, and a big hamper bin at the bottom that doubled as a padded seat. There was an entertainment center on one wall that the team used to view game footage, and down a short hallway there were showers and bathrooms that they shared with the other women’s sports.

The girls who had been on the team last year all had assigned lockers, and they were already scattered around the edge of the room in varying states of undress. The others had camped out in empty spaces in the center, and the shy freshmen had gone to the bathroom to change in the stalls. Jessica waved Sadie over and motioned toward her locker.

“You can stash your crap in here ’til you get your own,” she said.

If,
Sadie added in her head.

As she changed, Sadie’s eyes roamed the room until they settled on an empty locker next to Thayer’s. All the unused lockers were blank, but this one still had a nameplate.

#11 Anna.

The locker looked used. A piece of green construction paper with “Anna” spelled out in bubble letters hung crookedly from a piece of tape against the back wall, and one white T-shirt sleeve hung out of the bottom bin.

“Hey, who’s Anna?”

Jessica wrapped a towel around herself and started pulling bottles of shampoo and conditioner out of her cubby. “She was our teammate.”

Jessica said it quietly, but Sadie noticed a couple of the girls glancing in their direction. Thayer slammed the lid of her locker closed and headed for the showers. The room suddenly felt a little smaller.

“Was?”

Jessica turned and looked her in the eye. “Later,” she mouthed. Out loud she said, “Come on, I’ll show you where the showers are. I’m going to have like six new zits by dinner if I don’t get this sweat off me soon.” She walked down the hallway, leaving Sadie alone in a room full of silence.

She walked back to campus with Grace, Brett, and Jessica, and as they walked, the cool air breathed life back into her fatigued limbs. A breeze whistled through the tree branches, and instinctively she veered a foot or two closer to the other girls. For the first time since last night she thought about the two figures she had seen in the woods. She was sure now they had been following her, just waiting for their chance to make their move. What the hell was wrong with these people?

“What’d you think of your first practice?” Brett asked, bringing Sadie’s mind back into focus. Practice had kept her busy, but now she could feel the rope binding her wrists, and the pressure of the polygraph cuff cutting into her arm. She rubbed the spot just above her elbow and forced a smile.

“It was good, I guess. Hard, but it’s not like I’m surprised. Is Coach always such a hard-ass?”

“Pretty much,” Brett said. “She was actually pretty mellow today, if that helps?”

Jessica shook her head. “You should have seen her last year after we lost to Hamilton. I thought she was going to pop a blood vessel right out there on the field. She ran us until Charlotte started having a panic attack.”

Sadie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Great.”

Jessica glanced down at Sadie’s arm and raised her eyebrows. “Jeez, where’d you go to give blood — the butcher shop?”

“Huh?”

Jessica pointed to a spot just above Sadie’s elbow crease. “You’re all bruised. Happens when they poke around too much with the needle.” She rolled her eyes. “I once had some nurse newbie prick me like twelve times before she found a vein.”

“What are you talking abou — ” Sadie looked down at her arm, but Jessica was right. There was a deep purple bruise that spread across the crease. She stopped walking and stared, bringing her arm up closer to her face. In the center of the bruise was a tiny red scab that looked inflamed. She felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck.

“You okay?” Jessica took a step toward her. “It’s no big deal — really. I’m sure it’s normal to bruise a little.”

“But I didn’t,” Sadie murmured.

“Didn’t what?” Jessica was starting to look worried. Brett just stared at Sadie with wide, unblinking eyes.

Sadie had the sudden urge to spill everything, but she swallowed it down and forced a smile. “Never mind. I totally forgot I donated last week — must have just taken awhile to show up.” She heard Brett exhale.

She felt like she was going to throw up. Pranks were one thing, and she could handle them trying to scare her. But they had stuck a needle inside of her, and she had no idea why.

Jessica didn’t look convinced. “You sure nothing else is wrong?”

Only everything,
Sadie wanted to shout at her.
Everything is wrong
.

Instead she just nodded and started walking back toward Keating, forcing the other girls to jog a few steps to keep up.

Sadie and Jessica spent the afternoon lounging in one corner of the quad, each with a pile of books spread around her in a wide arc. Sadie was squinting hard at the math book in her lap, but the formulas that were usually so familiar were swimming together, refusing to make sense.