Free Fly Away by Nora Rock Page B

it involved metalwork sculptures. First he had to do drawings of the sculptures though. He promised to post the drawings directly to the board for all to see.
    By now, everyone at school seemed to know that Liam and I had broken up. As soon as she found out, Priya had started following me around like I was on suicide watch. "You two were, like, the cutest couple in this school," she moaned. "What happened?"
    I shrugged. “Don’t ask me,” I said. “He didn’t explain.”
    And anyway, I thought, I wasn’t sure I even cared. I’d been trying for months to be patient with Liam’s new moodiness. I’d done everything I could to prove that I’d stand by him while he got over his depression. It was wrong of him to turn his back on me so completely. Something inside me was shifting. I was going from feeling abandoned to feeling angry.
    For the first time in my life, I was on my own. And being mad instead of lonely made it easier to deal.
    When I got home from school, I logged onto the artists’ site. Nothing yet. Benedict was obviously a night owl.
    So I went out for a run. It was March, and we’d had a mild spell. The streets were clear. I ran for only fifteen minutes or so, but it felt good to move. It made me feel competent. In charge. When I got home, I pushed the coffee table aside in the family room and marked out some changes to the choreography for the “Midsummer” routine. With only one tumbler, I needed to find a way to make us look balanced. Pulling out Priya and Ashleigh, the spotters from groups one and three, for some simple tumbling moves during basic stunts would accomplish that. It would provide more visual interest at floor level. Besides, using only two bases for lifts looks less cluttered. It also makes you look cocky, like you don’t need spotters.
    Priya, I knew, was a decent tumbler, so she’d be able to do it. Ashleigh was more of an unknown quantity. I dialed her number.
    â€œHi, Mar,” she said.
    â€œHi,” I said. “Hope I’m not calling too late. I need to know what kind of tumbling you can do. Can you do a handspring?”
    She laughed. “I can do a back tuck, thank you very much. I’m not just a platform for Keri to stand on, you know. What’s up?”
    â€œI’m tinkering a little with ‘Midsummer.’ I want to pull you and Priya out for a couple of tumbling runs.”
    â€œGo, girl,” Ashleigh said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œNothing,” she said. “I was worried about you for a while. You seemed pretty shaken up about Arielle. But it sounds like you’re on the job now.”
    I smiled. After Arielle, Ashleigh was the most mature girl on the team. She should have been assistant captain. Her support meant a lot to me. “Thanks,” I said.
    â€œAny news about Arielle? The forty-eight hours are up now, right? The police must be searching.”
    I explained that the search was on hold. Ari was eighteen, she’d shipped her paintings somewhere, and there was nothing to suggest she was in danger. “It’s not like she’s a missing child,” I told Ashleigh, “or even a runaway teen. According to the police, she’s an adult. Basically, she’s moved out with no forwarding address. Not really a police matter.”
    â€œHer parents disagree, I’ll bet,” said Ashleigh.
    â€œYep,” I said.
    It was after midnight. I was exhausted when Benedict finally uploaded his sketches. But I was glad I’d stayed up. When I scrolled down to the second one, a flash of recognition jolted me fully awake. The sketch was of a boy on a skateboard, shoulders hunched, chin tucked down into his collar. Arielle’s cousin. My Girl was there too. There was no mention in his post of Arielle’s name, but Benedict was using Ari’s paintings as the basis for his sculptures.
    But why would Benedict make pencil sketches of