Chapter 6
Beware of Womp Rats
I slide into English right as the bell goes. Sierra’s saved me a seat—her cheeks are so red from smiling so hard, it looks like her face might catch fire.
“Have you checked my i********: account this morning?”
“What? No. I barely got to school on time.” Yesterday after the eight o’clock practice—that I made it to, even though I’d had about four hours’ sleep after my INCREDIBLE Saturday night out with my girls—my dad and Coach Tosto agreed that for the next few weeks leading up to districts, before-school sessions will be forty-five minutes longer. That puts me at the pool at 6:00 a.m. every weekday. This also means I’m not riding my bike to the pool and then to school every day—my dad is chauffeuring me, which provides even more opportunity for him to gril
