Twirling Tails #7 (5 page)

As the music faded, Kirsten stopped. Beside her, Storm stretched out one front paw and dipped his head in a bow.

A chorus of cheers rang out, followed by a burst of applause. Kirsten was shocked to see that even Tracy and Helena were clapping enthusiastically.

Molly came over to congratulate her. “You were right, Kirsten. Storm will be a wonderful mascot for us. We'll have to see about getting him a uniform. Do you think you'll be able to bring him to practice regularly, so that he can get used to marching with the whole troupe?”

Kirsten glanced across at Storm, who was rolling on his back so that he could have his tummy rubbed by two majorettes. “I think I might have trouble actually keeping him away!”

As Tracy came over, Kirsten prepared herself to apologize again for soaking her in class earlier.

But her friend seemed to have forgotten all about it. She bent down to pet Storm. “Hello, boy. Aren't you cute?” She looked up at Kirsten. “Is he one of the strays your mom and dad are always trying to find homes for?”

Kirsten nodded, and spotted Helena wandering over to join them. “He's a new one. Storm's a really special little pup.” She smiled secretly to herself, imagining the look on Tracy's face if she could have known how special Storm
really
was. “I'm hoping Mom will let me keep him. I'm waiting for the right time to ask her.”

“I wouldn't mind having a new puppy,” Helena said wistfully. “But my mom doesn't like pets. She says they're messy and taking care of them takes up too much time.”

“That's a shame,” Kirsten said. “I couldn't imagine not having a pet.”

“You're really lucky to be able to take care of all kinds of different puppies,” Helena went on. “What kind is Storm? Is he a mutt?”

Kirsten smiled. “No. But I wouldn't mind if he was. He's a Border terrier.”

“I've never heard of those,” Helena said, looking interested. “Are they rare?”

“I'm not sure. You'd have to ask my mom. She's the expert,” Kirsten said.
Helena seems to like puppies almost as much as I do
, she thought with surprise.

Helena bent down to stroke Storm. “Hello, little fella!”

At first Storm eyed Helena warily but then he allowed her to pat him and began slowly wagging his tail. Kirsten noticed that Storm seemed to be slightly warming toward Helena.

“I guess we really should do some work,” Kirsten said eventually to Tracy as Helena stood up again.

Tracy nodded. “Will you be okay by yourself, Helena?”

“I'll be fine watching. Can I watch Storm, if he's not practicing with you all the time?” Helena said.

Kirsten was about to say that Storm didn't need looking after, but when she glanced at him, he gave a small woof of agreement.

“Sure. Why not,” Kirsten said generously. Storm was with her all day. It wouldn't hurt for Helena to share him for a few minutes.

The rest of practice went well. Tracy worked hard, earning herself some praise from Molly, and Storm followed all the routines perfectly. Kirsten noticed that Helena was sitting watching everything closely. She was unusually quiet.

Mr. Blake called in just as practice ended. He was passing the gym and wondered if Kirsten and Storm wanted a ride home.

“Can we take Tracy and Helena, too?” Kirsten asked, deciding to try not to be so suspicious of Helena all the time.

They all piled into the car. Helena sat in the backseat with Tracy. “I didn't know being a majorette was so complicated. You have to do millions of warm-ups and stretches and leg-strengthening stuff. It's like you're real athletes.”

Kirsten glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “We are! You have to be really in shape to do the routines.”

“Dad's always telling me I should do some sports. I think I might ask Molly about joining,” Helena mused.

Kirsten raised her eyebrows. She was starting not to mind Helena so much. But she still wasn't sure if she liked the idea of her joining in with everything that she and Tracy did together. She decided not to say anything just now.

When Mr. Blake stopped outside Tracy's house, Tracy and Helena both got out.

“Thanks for the ride,” they chorused. “See you in the morning,” Tracy called.

“Bye!” Kirsten waved.

Once they got home, Kirsten asked her mom and dad if they'd like some hot chocolate. She spooned chocolate powder into three mugs. While she was waiting for the teapot to boil, she rummaged in a cabinet and found a tasty, bone-shaped dog chew for Storm.

“Here you go. You deserve a yummy treat. I was so proud of you at practice,” she told him.

“I enjoyed being a mascot,” Storm yapped.

He bounced forward onto his short front legs and grabbed the chew. Picking it up, he trotted around the kitchen with both ends of it sticking out of his mouth.

Kirsten made the drinks and put them on a tray. She laughed as Storm followed her into the sitting room with his prize. “You'd better sit on your old blanket to eat that or Mom'll go nuts!” she whispered.

Kirsten jogged across the school playing field a few mornings later with Storm trotting along invisibly beside her.

Miss Strong was already on the hockey field handing out yellow and green sashes and organizing the class into teams. Kirsten was in the Greens and Tracy and Helena were in the Yellows.

“Kirsten and Tracy, you're center forwards, so you'll face off for the ball.” Miss Strong looked around, checking that everyone was in position.

Kirsten flexed her knees as she faced Tracy on the center line.

Storm began leaping around her ankles excitedly. “Tell me what to do and I will follow you, Kirsten!” he yapped so that only Kirsten heard him.

With a tingle of alarm, it dawned on Kirsten that Storm thought playing field hockey was like a majorette routine. He didn't realize that he could be kicked by a player or hit by a hockey stick. She couldn't warn him of the danger with everyone so close.

Miss Strong picked up the whistle dangling by a cord around her neck.

Phee-eep!
The game was on.

Kirsten won the face-off. She ran down the field, hoping to get away from the other players. Once she was out of earshot, she'd be able to tell Storm to get off the field.

Storm gave a joyful bark and dashed after Kirsten, his strong little legs eating up the grass. Kirsten glanced sideways at him as she ran with the ball, but Helena was pounding after her and she still couldn't warn Storm of the danger.

“To me, Kirsten!” one of the players cried.

“Come on, Yellows. Tackle her!”

Helena dodged forward. She tackled Kirsten and won the ball. Lifting her stick, Helena swiveled, about to send the ball out to a winger.

Kirsten gasped with horror as Storm dashed forward and stood in front of Helena. He was right in the path of the rock-hard hockey ball.

“Look out!” Quick as a flash, Kirsten dropped her stick and shoved against Helena with her whole body.

“Oh!” Helena skidded and only just managed to stop herself from falling over. Her hockey stick slammed down, missing the ball.

Pheep!
Miss Strong blew the whistle for a foul as she ran toward them. “I saw that, Kirsten! You did it deliberately. I will not tolerate this behavior. Go and get changed and wait for me in the classroom.”

Helena stood there with a hurt expression on her face. She looked more upset than angry.

Kirsten felt terrible, but at least Storm was uninjured. Her shoulders drooped as she trailed across the field.

Tracy jogged up to her. “What happened? I thought you were starting to like Helena.”

“I was . . . I am . . .” Kirsten said.

“Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!”

“I wasn't
trying
to hurt Helena, honest!” Kirsten protested. “But I couldn't help it—” She stopped. There was nothing else she could say without giving away Storm's secret. “I can't explain. But you have to believe me.”

Tracy looked puzzled. “I don't know, Kirsten . . .”

Sighing heavily, Kirsten left the field and headed for the changing rooms.

Storm bounded after her. “Thank you for saving me, Kirsten,” he panted. “But now you are in even more trouble because of me.”

“I'll live with it,” Kirsten said resignedly. “It's more important that you're okay. It was my fault, anyway. I should have warned you to stay off the hockey field. Don't worry, Miss Strong will probably make me write out a hundred lines or clean the art cabinet. It's no big deal.”

But the teacher decided on a more serious punishment.

“Detention!” Kirsten cried, gaping at her. “But I
can't
stay behind after school, Miss. I've got majorette practice.”