her.
Lillka’s team, the Black, won fourth place; the Yellow took third. Zoheret held her breath. Dmitri and Jorge were eyeing Ho.
“Second place goes to the Blue team,” Ship said. The room erupted with cries and a chorus of boos so loud that their time was inaudible. Ship was commending their ingenuity; Manuel shook his head. Ho jumped up on a table and waved his arms, bringing on more hisses.
“The Brown team has won,” Ship said over an ebb in the protest. Voices drowned out their time as well.
“Hey!” Dmitri shouted above the noise. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “You know what happened. You know what the Brown team did to win. They should be disqualified.” There was a chorus of agreement.
“The Competition is over,” Ship said. “Your party will be held here tomorrow, as always, and you will have the day to yourselves. Have a good time.”
Several young people had already left the room. Willem, who had been standing just behind Ho, grinned and put his hand on Ho’s shoulder. Ho shook the hand away, glaring contemptuously at the other boy.
Zoheret waited. Perhaps Manuel would ask her to come to the party with him after all. He stood up, then turned and caught her eye. She tried to smile. He was walking toward her, pushing past others. As he came up to her, he said, “We could have won if we hadn’t stopped to help Red.”
“No—they were too far ahead.”
“It might have been close. We might have had a chance.”
“Second place isn’t so bad.”
“It isn’t winning.” He gazed past her. Then he turned, muttering something to Jorge. The two boys walked toward Ho.
Ho, surrounded by a small group of people, was accepting congratulations. Anyone who held a grudge, Zoheret knew, was unlikely to take it up with Ho while he was with friends. She saw that Bonnie was with him. Bonnie pulled nervously at her yellow scarf as Manuel and Jorge made their way to the victor. She took Ho’s arm. Manuel watched her without expression as he extended his hand to the other boy.
“I’m not going to that party.” Zoheret turned toward the voice and saw Lillka.
“I probably won’t, either,” Zoheret replied.
“It’s disgusting how that team won. I can’t believe Ship just let it go.”
“Ship’s stuck. It said no rules.”
“I know one thing. You can’t trust Ho. He’ll do anything.”
“I think we knew that already.”
Lillka walked toward the door.
Zoheret looked around for Manuel, still hoping, but could not find him. The room was almost empty. She walked into the hall and stared for a moment at Halim al-Haq’s portrait; his eyes seemed to follow her.
She felt closed in; the corridor suddenly seemed too small, too constricting. She hurried down the hall toward the Hollow, and then spotted Jennifer; the other girl was moving slowly, head bobbing. Zoheret caught up with her. “Where are you going?”
“The Hollow.”
“I’m going there, too. Want company?”
“I don’t care,” Jennifer sputtered.
“Are you sure you can walk that far?”
“My ankle’s all right now.”
They continued in silence. The corridor was still; the voices of the others receded. Jennifer’s head, as usual, trembled slightly; her face was stony.
They came to the Hollow; the door slid open. It was dark; Zoheret squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. “Be careful,” Ship murmured.
Jennifer sat down. Zoheret stretched out on her back. A bird chirped above and was answered by the howl of a distant wolf.
“We lost,” Jennifer said softly, “because of me.”
Zoheret rolled over and rested on one elbow. “You did fine. Even Manuel said so.” His name caught in her throat. “We might have won if we hadn’t helped Red, but I doubt it. You kept up.”
“It isn’t that. We lost because I told Ho our route.”
Zoheret sat up. So it hadn’t been Gervais after all. “I thought someone told him, but I never guessed it was you.”
“Not so loud. Ship might hear.” Jennifer
Lillka’s team, the Black, won fourth place; the Yellow took third. Zoheret held her breath. Dmitri and Jorge were eyeing Ho.
“Second place goes to the Blue team,” Ship said. The room erupted with cries and a chorus of boos so loud that their time was inaudible. Ship was commending their ingenuity; Manuel shook his head. Ho jumped up on a table and waved his arms, bringing on more hisses.
“The Brown team has won,” Ship said over an ebb in the protest. Voices drowned out their time as well.
“Hey!” Dmitri shouted above the noise. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “You know what happened. You know what the Brown team did to win. They should be disqualified.” There was a chorus of agreement.
“The Competition is over,” Ship said. “Your party will be held here tomorrow, as always, and you will have the day to yourselves. Have a good time.”
Several young people had already left the room. Willem, who had been standing just behind Ho, grinned and put his hand on Ho’s shoulder. Ho shook the hand away, glaring contemptuously at the other boy.
Zoheret waited. Perhaps Manuel would ask her to come to the party with him after all. He stood up, then turned and caught her eye. She tried to smile. He was walking toward her, pushing past others. As he came up to her, he said, “We could have won if we hadn’t stopped to help Red.”
“No—they were too far ahead.”
“It might have been close. We might have had a chance.”
“Second place isn’t so bad.”
“It isn’t winning.” He gazed past her. Then he turned, muttering something to Jorge. The two boys walked toward Ho.
Ho, surrounded by a small group of people, was accepting congratulations. Anyone who held a grudge, Zoheret knew, was unlikely to take it up with Ho while he was with friends. She saw that Bonnie was with him. Bonnie pulled nervously at her yellow scarf as Manuel and Jorge made their way to the victor. She took Ho’s arm. Manuel watched her without expression as he extended his hand to the other boy.
“I’m not going to that party.” Zoheret turned toward the voice and saw Lillka.
“I probably won’t, either,” Zoheret replied.
“It’s disgusting how that team won. I can’t believe Ship just let it go.”
“Ship’s stuck. It said no rules.”
“I know one thing. You can’t trust Ho. He’ll do anything.”
“I think we knew that already.”
Lillka walked toward the door.
Zoheret looked around for Manuel, still hoping, but could not find him. The room was almost empty. She walked into the hall and stared for a moment at Halim al-Haq’s portrait; his eyes seemed to follow her.
She felt closed in; the corridor suddenly seemed too small, too constricting. She hurried down the hall toward the Hollow, and then spotted Jennifer; the other girl was moving slowly, head bobbing. Zoheret caught up with her. “Where are you going?”
“The Hollow.”
“I’m going there, too. Want company?”
“I don’t care,” Jennifer sputtered.
“Are you sure you can walk that far?”
“My ankle’s all right now.”
They continued in silence. The corridor was still; the voices of the others receded. Jennifer’s head, as usual, trembled slightly; her face was stony.
They came to the Hollow; the door slid open. It was dark; Zoheret squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. “Be careful,” Ship murmured.
Jennifer sat down. Zoheret stretched out on her back. A bird chirped above and was answered by the howl of a distant wolf.
“We lost,” Jennifer said softly, “because of me.”
Zoheret rolled over and rested on one elbow. “You did fine. Even Manuel said so.” His name caught in her throat. “We might have won if we hadn’t helped Red, but I doubt it. You kept up.”
“It isn’t that. We lost because I told Ho our route.”
Zoheret sat up. So it hadn’t been Gervais after all. “I thought someone told him, but I never guessed it was you.”
“Not so loud. Ship might hear.” Jennifer
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