Free The Dance by Christopher Pike Page A

distant now, not nearly so comfortable. “I saw you. Say hello to Mike for me.”
    “I will.” That sounded like a good-bye. “I hear you’re a school princess. That must be exciting?”
    Her mood brightened, a bit. “I still don’t believe it. I didn’t think anyone knew who I was.”
    “It didn’t surprise me. I voted for you.”
    “You did, really?”
    “Of course.”
    “Who else did you vote for?” She sounded genuinely curious.
    “Jessica and Sara and that girl Bubba sees—Clair.”
    “That’s only four people. You could vote for five.”
    “They were the only ones I wrote down.”
    She seemed happy, in that moment, standing there listening to his praise, probably replaying in her mind the afternoon’s announcement. But it didn’t last. She looked at the ground. “I’ve got to go.”
    The word just burst out of him. “Why?’
    “Because, Nick, because—” She clasped her books to her chest, her head still down. “I have to.”
    “I see.” Then he said something that had been on his mind since the cops had led him to the jail cell with Rats and Russ the night Alice McCoy had taken a bullet through the head. “Is it because I was running down the stairs after the gunshot?”
    She jumped slightly. “No.”
    “You think I killed her.”
    She turned away. “No!”
    “You’re the only one who knew I was coming down those stairs.” He stopped, and now a cold note entered his tone. “Or are you, Maria?”
    Her back to him, she nodded slowly. “I’m the only one. But that doesn’t matter. None of that matters.” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dark, lonely. “I have to go.”
    He shrugged. “Go.”
    When he returned to the court, Michael asked him how it had gone. Nick repeated everything that had been said, except the bit about his running down the stairs. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Michael, he simply felt guilty for having lied to him after the funeral when they had originally discussed the matter. Back then, after having spent a few days in the slammer, he’d been afraid to say anything even remotely incriminating.
    He needed respect, not just from Michael, but from everyone in school. Then maybe Maria would see him as something other than a threat. As they walked toward the showers, he said, “I think I will go out for the team.”

Chapter Eight
    Although he had been badly beaten on the court, Michael felt better for the exercise. The thought of his date that evening with Jessica wasn’t slowing him down, either. He’d had trouble falling asleep the night before thinking about it.
    After saying good-bye to Nick, Michael headed for the computer-science room. He’d been meaning to have a talk with Bubba. He decided now would be a good time.
    Michael had not purposely avoided his old friend after Alice’s death the way he had avoided Jessica, yet since then, he had spoken to Bubba very few times. He suspected Bubba may have been keeping his distance. Whatever the reason, it was time to clear the air between them.
    On the way to Bubba, he passed a pay phone and thought of the form he’d given Polly. She hadn’t been at school that day. He decided to give her a quick call. She didn’t answer till the seventh or eighth ring.
    “You barely caught me, Mike. I’m on my way out.”
    “I won’t keep you then. I was wondering if I could swing by this afternoon and pick up that form I left last night?”
    “What form?”
    “The permission form I wanted your aunt to sign. Did she have a chance to read it over?”
    Polly hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
    “Is there a problem? If you’d like, I could explain what it’s for to your aunt.”
    “No, you don’t have to do that.”
    “Do you have any idea when I could pick it up?”
    “I’ll see. I’ll get back to you, all right?”
    “Sure. I’ll talk to you later.”
    Putting down the phone, he knew he’d wait a long time before Polly McCoy contacted him.
    He was not surprised to find