Girls Only! Read Online Free Page A

rink. They never paused to say “Good morning.”
    “Hello,” she called just to see if they’d wave or greet her. They turned only briefly and smiled but kept going, their arms moving almost as fast as their trim legs.
    “Looks like Mrs. Newton was only half right aboutthe people here,” she mumbled as she stepped onto the ice.
    Slowly, Livvy’s legs began to warm up. She focused on the perimeters of the rink, eyeing it for size. Then around and around she skated. The delicate smoothness under her blades made her homesick for Elena . . . for her skating pals in Chicago. But she had to get the feel of this rink. Not Olympic size, but better than nothing.
    The festive white lights in the trees surrounding the rink blurred as she sped up. Before ever attempting a jump, she practiced a long spiral, followed by a couple of sit spins.
    I still have it , she thought. I know I do!
    She remembered the thrill of competing at regionals as a novice last November. Her mother had made the trip to Michigan even though the chemo treatments had left her terribly weak. They’d hugged hard after Livvy’s free-skate program. And Elena was there, all smiles, waiting for the judges’ scoring.
    The announcer’s words rang in her ears. “Second place goes to Olivia Hudson from Illinois.”
    Super cool! She was on her way.
    “This one’s for you,” she’d told her mom.
    “No . . . no . You deserve every bit of it, kiddo.” Tears of joy streamed down her mother’s cheeks.
    “Mom, please don’t cry.” Livvy had to fight back her own tears.
    Please don’t cry . . . .
    The gentle swoosh of her skates brought her back to the present. She would allow herself only a twenty-minute workout today. Wisely, she knew she’d have to take things slowly. Steady too.
    But Elena would be proud. Livvy was actually pacing herself . . . and without a coach!
    In no time, though, her legs began to feel like rubber. Time to quit. No sense pushing herself too hard, especially on the first day of the school year. Besides, she had three long blocks to walk home.
    Tired and a bit winded from the high altitude, Livvy hurried down the sidewalk toward the gray-and-white Victorian. The sun was making its first appearance as she walked the final block. Long pink wisps brushed the sky, as if an artist had splashed them up there.
    “I believe in you, Livvy. . . .”
    The memory of her mother’s words encouraged her. And she slipped into the house unnoticed.
    Quietly, she showered, put on fresh clothes, and headed for the kitchen. There she found a pitcher of orange juice already mixed and ready to drink. “Dad’s up?” she said, smiling. “No way.”
    A bit hungry from her early morning skate, she plopped two pieces of wheat bread into the toaster. Then she packed her lunch for school. She still hadn’t gotten over the shock at seeing the teensy-weensy middle school.Even Dad had agreed it was peewee size when they’d gone to enroll her.
    The building was as small as Livvy’s grade school back home. In fact, Principal Seeley’s office couldn’t have been larger than a shoe box—at least her mom would’ve described it that way.
    She forced a laugh, mostly to squash her fears. And she wondered about her locker partner, hoping whoever it was might be as friendly as Mrs. Newton at the Cloth Mill.
    More worries filled her head. Will the kids accept me? she wondered. Can a wanna-be Olympic skater fit in here?
    “Ready or not, here I come!” she announced to the bread as it flew up out of the toaster.
    She heard footsteps. “Morning, Livvy.”
    “You’re up early.”
    Sleepily, he opened the refrigerator. “Another long day ahead,” he said, pulling out a quart of milk.
    “More sanding and stuff?”
    His eyes lit up. “Little by little, I’ll make this house livable.”
    She couldn’t help but grin. “We’re living in it, aren’t we?” Wiggling her fingers at him, she said, “Gotta run. The bus’ll be here soon.”
    “Uh . . . wait a