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The Demons Among Us

By Jill K. Willis

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Chapter 1

Daniel
Last Day of School before Christmas Break

A sharp stitch jabbed Daniel’s side. He pushed his hand into it, slowing, and drew a deep breath of freezing air. The resulting coughing spasm almost sidelined him. His old travel league T-shirt and orange vest clung together, soaked with sweat. A popped blister on his right heel screamed for relief. The afternoon’s mind-blowing biology final had been less challenging than this JV soccer tryout.
Coach Roberts caught his eye and frowned.
Daniel ignored the stabbing pain and sprinted over the field’s thick center line. No sub necessary, Coach. Can’t score from the sideline. And he had to score. He had to beat thirty other guys to be on Pleasant Hill High’s spring semester team.
Three assistant coaches evaluated the players’ progress. One pointed a video camera, and two scribbled on spiral notepads. He passed them, almost brushing one with his right shoulder.
He sneaked a glance at the bleachers.
Savannah’s strawberry-blond hair glistened in the sunlight. She waved, gifting him with a brilliant smile. “Go, Danny!”
He’d sacrifice his shelf of trophies to score a goal for her.
Wait—what? Hunter Haddix stood beside her, sporting his impressive letter jacket. Why was the school’s star quarterback at a soccer tryout . . . next to Savannah? With an encouraging grin, Hunter gave him a thumbs-up.
Daniel slowed as a reflexive smile crossed his face. Then he shook his head. Concentrate. Don’t get sidetracked. He tore his eyes from the bleachers and refocused on the field.
Thirty seconds left in the scoreless scrimmage. If they went into overtime, Coach would replace him. Dozens of eager subs jostled on the sideline. He deserved to stay in the game. He’d sacrificed his grades for the grueling practices and this chance.
If he made the team, Dad might ignore his C average. He didn’t believe in prayer but sent one up anyway. Help me, God. I want this so bad.
Sweat dripped into his right eye. He pinched it shut a moment too late. A sharp sting penetrated the socket. Gah! He pressed the lid with the side of his forefinger and peered across the field with his left eye.
José darted down the other sideline with the ball. He dodged two lanky dudes wearing blue vests. Daniel grinned and gave his irritated eye a quick scrub. They’d played together since they could run. This next play would seal their places on the team. It never failed.
Sure enough, Jack appeared out of nowhere, streaking across midfield, blond ponytail flying. José launched the ball to land a few feet in front of Jack, who toed it around another blue vest and headed straight for the goal.
The goalie widened his stance, crouched, and spread his arms. Two other blue vests zipped in front of him, jockeying back and forth to give the impression of complete goal coverage.
Daniel’s grin broadened. They were clueless. He pelted ten more yards until he ran even with Jack.
Jack eased to the left, toying with the ball. He sidestepped to the right, then back left. The blue vests moved with him.
In the perfect play, Jack would flick his eyes to the top left corner of the goal, and the opposing guard would observe that flick—masterful trickery at its finest.
Today the play unfolded as planned. The blue vests eased to the left. Jack didn’t. He side-kicked the ball to Daniel, who tapped it once with his left foot, then blasted it toward the goal’s top right corner with his right.
The goalie leaped for the ball . . . but his hands missed by inches.
“Woooo!” Daniel raced to Jack and chest-bumped him. “Great cross!”
José slapped them both on their backs. “We did it!”
The whistle blew. Orange won the scrimmage 1-0.
Daniel thrust both fists in the air and blinked back tears, his blister and side pang forgotten. He’d be a starting freshman on the team.
If only Dad could see him now. But work came first.
“We made the team.” Daniel wrapped his arms around José’s and Jack’s shoulders as they sauntered off the field, heads held high.
“Don’t get cocky.” Jack elbowed him. “It’s not a done deal yet.”
Daniel ribbed him back. “Shut up. Why do you always have to be like that?”
“Good scrimmage, guys.” Coach Roberts’s voice rose above the orange team’s shouts of celebration. “Go shower. When you return after Christmas break, check the gym bulletin board for the team member list.”
As they passed the bleachers, Savannah beckoned with pink-mittened hands, her face flush with excitement. “Way to go, Danny!”
Such an unimaginative nickname, but . . . cute from her lips.
“Oh, Dan-nee, you’re my heer-o,” drifted across the field as he jogged toward her. Thanks, Jack. He raked his fingers through his short hair. Flat and wet. At least it wasn’t glowing red, like usual.
He eyed the bleachers. No sign of Hunter. Good thing. Mr. Popularity needed to move along to another cheerleader.
Savannah bounced down the rows, stopped on the bottom one, and beamed at him. “Awesome goal. Glad I got to see it.” She lifted her palm for a high five.
He wiped his hand on his shirt, then gave her mitten a light tap, careful not to leave a sweat stain. Everything about her gleamed high-dollar perfection. She must have a whopping allowance. Joy would drool all over those white lace-up boots.
“Thanks for coming.” He propped a cleated foot on the row a few seats away. The wind had picked up and, yay team, he was downwind of her. His stench could deflate a soccer ball. The cutest chick in ninth grade didn’t need to sniff that. He brandished his best smile. “What are you doing for Christmas break?”
Her face fell. “We’re leaving tomorrow to see my grandma. We’ll be gone through New Year’s.”
Ugh. She’d be out of town the entire two weeks. He tried a new angle. “Maybe we can text while you’re gone?”
“Of course.” Her glossy lips curved upward. “What’s your number?”
He gave it to her, watching her long lashes flutter as she typed. “I better go shower.”
She looked up, and a dimple appeared in her cheek. “Um, Danny? Would you like to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?”
His foot slipped off the seat. Would he? Wouldn’t every guy at Pleasant Hill? Why did she ask him? She could have asked a senior. Hunter Haddix even. He cleared his throat. No time for squeaky voice. “I’d love to,” he shot back before she could change her mind.
“Great! I’ll text you so you have my number.” She headed toward her cheerleading buddies, who were waiting for her at the chain-link fence gate.
José and Jack rushed over and thumped him on the back.
“Dude, she likes you.” José handed Daniel his gym bag.
Jack snickered. “Don’t know why.”
Daniel scratched the back of his head. “Me either.” He glanced at the bleachers.
Hunter had returned. He lounged on the top row, flanked by two senior blond cheerleaders and a handful of football players. He waved at Daniel, then wrapped an arm around one of the girls.
The layer of sweat blanketing Daniel’s body chilled. Why did the most popular guy at Pleasant Hill have an interest in him?
“Let’s go.” José shoulder-bumped him.
“Yeah.” He headed to the locker room. Time to celebrate.

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