Bad Call – Stephen Wallenfels

“But an old man on Rollerblades asked me to autograph his Speedo.” “Cool. Front or back?” “Always go with the back. Less bumpy.” “I’ll file that under information I wish I didn’t know.” Their conversation stalls after that, which is okay with her. She needs the time to sort through this San Clemente revelation and what it means, if anything at all.

It could be the universe flexing its random muscle, but she doubts it. The odds are much higher that Ceo is up to something. After a couple more switchbacks, Colin says he needs another pebble stop. She finds a place with a decent sitting rock and unwraps a chocolate bar while he takes off and dumps his shoe. During this process he says, “So you play on the U-18 national team?” “Played. How did you know that?” “Ceo told us. He said you had a shutout against Brazil in Barcelona.”

Ellie considers the source of this information. She knows she didn’t tell Ceo about the national team while they were at the workshop because she didn’t tell anyone. He must have googled her, which would result in links to USsoccer.com and her high school website, both of which feature articles about her and her tournament schedule. This means he’s been paying attention to her when she thought he wasn’t.

The randomness of San Clemente is feeling incrementally less random. She says, “Actually, I had two shutouts if you don’t count the own goal in the semifinals.” Finished with his shoe, he sits on the rock next to her. She hands him the chocolate bar. He breaks off a piece and offers her some of his water. “The national team. That’s crazy.” “Crazy is a good word.” “Are you the next Hope Solo?” She smiles. There aren’t many guys her age that know that name.

“Not if I can help it.” “Why? Are you a Hope hater?” “No. I’m a soccer hater.” “There’s a twist I didn’t see coming.” “It’s a twisty kind of day.” “Is there a reason for this soccer rage?” “There is. But I’d rather not talk about it now.” They eat and drink in silence while watching a hawk do slow, lazy turns on a late-afternoon thermal.

Colin asks, “Before we move on to something else, just to be safe…what other topics are on Ellie’s love-to-hate list that I should avoid?” “Cigarette butts. They take ten months to ten years to biodegrade and are a fire hazard. Why isn’t that considered littering? Sequels to movies that shouldn’t have been a movie in the first place. Why is there a market for Piranha Six?

Copyright © 2017 by Stephen Wallenfels Cover illustration © 2017 by Matt Griffin Cover design by Maria Elias All rights reserved. Published by Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

For information address New York, New York 10023. ISBN 978-1-4847-8074-9 Visit www.HyperionTeens.com 1kitap1.com/en To my mother, Mary, and my father, Otto 1kitap1.com/en CONTENTS Title Page Copyright Dedication Prologue The Drive Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 The Trail Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 The Storm Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Acknowledgments About the Author 1kitap1.com/en They walk side by side through shin-deep snow, dragging branches for their shelter behind them.

The footprints they made on the way out are little more than small depressions in the drifts of swirling white. It’s as if the wind has a single ill intent—to wipe out any traces of them. “Did you bring your headlamp?” she asks. “No. You?” “No.” “We’ll make it.” She wants to move faster, to outrun the dark that is chasing them, but knows each step is a struggle for him.

The branches are too heavy. But she suspects the real problem is beyond her control. She can barely move her fingers in her gloves. His sneakers are caked in snow. His feet must be anchors of ice by now. She stops and faces him. “Let me carry more.” “Keep moving,” he says. “You sure? Because I can—” “Must. Keep. Moving.” They trudge on, heads down into the stinging wind, following tracks that disappear before their eyes. She shudders as the nagging thought that was small thirty minutes ago swells into a chest-crushing wave of panic.

Are we walking in circles? She decides to count.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 45bdfdf765dc36ff
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 61,635,995 bytes (58.781 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• ISBN: 9781484780749
• Pages: 250
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 318.53 minutes
• Total Words: 63,706
• Total Characters: 343,639
• Average Words per Page: 254.82
• Average Characters per Page: 1374.56

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