Read Online Double-Crossed by Lin Oliver - Free Book Online Page B

guys.” As she spoke, she looked behind me, her eyes searching the empty path to court eleven. “So, where’s Ryan?” she asked ever so casually.
    â€œHe couldn’t be here,” Charlie answered. “Volleyball practice.”
    â€œOh,” Lauren said, a little frown starting to form around her mouth.
    â€œBummer,” Jillian added.
    â€œThat sucks,” Brooke noted.
    â€œBut the important thing is that we’re all here together,” Charlie said. “Right?”
    â€œRight,” Lauren nodded, doing a really poor job of concealing her disappointment. “So . . . do you think Ryan’s coming later? Not that it matters, of course.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have a way to get here,” Charlie said. “So I think you’re stuck with just me today.”
    She laughed like she was making a joke, but I noticed that the other three girls didn’t laugh. They just went back to their Frappuccinos and took their seats on the bleachers. Charlie and I went out on the court to warm up.
    We had only been hitting a few minutes when our competition showed up. Anna Kozlov and Marjorie Shin were from the SoCal Racquet Club in San Diego. We had played them before, and they were really good. Kozlov was a hitting machine with a monster serve, and Shin was quick and fast with some of the best reflexes at the net I’d ever seen. Charlie and I ran up to say hello and shake hands with them.
    â€œSorry we’re a little late,” Anna said. “We got hung up at the registration desk.”
    â€œYeah, there was a whole commotion going on there,” Marjorie added.
    â€œLike, what kind of commotion?” I asked, aware of an uncomfortable feeling that was taking hold in the pit of my stomach.
    â€œThere were these three kids who were trying to get into the club,” Marjorie went on. “They had on totally the wrong clothes—no collared shirts and black-soled tennis shoes. Naturally, the club officials wouldn’t let them in.”
    â€œI think they were from Mexico or something,” Anna said. “I felt bad for them, especially for the one guy who had a messed-up foot.”
    That was all I needed to hear. Without a word, I raced off the court and ran at top speed down the cement path and into the lobby of the beach club where Mustache Man and his sidekick Ted were still sitting on their velvet chairs.
    â€œDid you kick out my friends?” I demanded.
    â€œTheir attire did not meet club standards,” the one called Ted answered.
    â€œWell, I think your standards are stupid,” I yelled, and before I could go on, I felt a firm hand on my arm, tugging me away from the desk. It was my dad.
    â€œCalm down, Sammie,” he said. “GoGo is with Alicia and the boys now. Everything’s okay.”
    â€œWhere are they?”
    â€œI gave them some money to go get ice cream,” he said. “Candido had already left, so GoGo’s going to walk them down the beach to the snack bar while you and Charlie play. Everybody’s happy.”
    â€œHappy? How can you say that, Dad? I’m not happy, and I’m sure they’re not happy. They just got kicked out of here. I bet they were totally embarrassed and just wanted to sink into a hole and disappear.”
    â€œSammie,” my dad said, taking my face in his hands and directing my attention toward him, “you have a big match to play. Now settle down and focus. Nothing terrible happened to your friends.”
    â€œOh, really? How would you like to get booted out by those two old stuffy dudes because you don’t have a collar on your shirt? I’d say that’s pretty terrible. Collars are stupid, anyway. They don’t serve any purpose except to hold those stupid clothes tags, which are totally annoying.”
    I was yelling, and several members of the Sand and Surf Club were looking at me with raised eyebrows. I overheard one lady with a