DESTINY
MONDAY AFTERNOON
SILVER SPRING, MARYLAND
I don’t know what I was thinking saving PE for my senior year of high school. I should have done it in my freshman year of high school like Quincy had.
And no place was I regretting more than when I was doing of the activities on the Fitnessgram called the Pacer test. Ask me why the Fitnessgram was happening at the end of the fall semester of high school instead of the middle of the spring semester. I don’t know who made that curriculum decision.
Luckily, it was about to be over. We were in our final round, and I was sweating like crazy, standing at the starting line with my classmates. Coach Cole was writing notes on the clipboard.
“All right, everyone,” he called out. “You’re in the homestretch, but remember, Pacer test isn’t about showing off how fast you can sprint. You’ve got to think things through and pace yourself—but don’t think too much. This isn’t rocket science. Got it?”
I nodded, flexing my fingers, heart racing against my ribs.
“Ready,” I muttered.
As soon as I heard the beep, marking the end of the break, I pushed myself to the front. I turned at the line and I sprinted back, feeling the burn in my calves.
I could faintly hear a “Come on, Destiny, you’ve got this!” from Jordan, a classmate from AP Gov, but I didn’t answer. I just ran faster.
As the beeps grew closer together, I was breathing harshly in gasps, sweating even harder than before, still doing my usual stop, skid, turn and push.
But unfortunately, it didn’t last. My foot landed wrong on the slick floor, and I could feel my ankle twist. I stumbled, pinwheeling my arms so I wouldn’t land flat on my face.
I heard the beeper beep, almost as if it was mocking me in the background.
“Come on, Stellar, don’t get thrown off!” Coach Cole’s voice rang out.
Gritting my teeth, I ignored my ankle and darted back across the gym, but I could feel my stride decrease. The turns weren’t as good as the ones before, but somehow they were enough to get me to the other side.
Another beep and I pushed off too fast, too furious, stumbling, and nearly ran into another classmate who was jogging slower in front of me.
“Watch it, Stellar!” the girl snapped.
“Sorry,” I gasped, swerving around her.
“Keep it clean, keep it controlled!” Coach Cole shouted, his tone clipped but not unkind. “Speed means nothing if you don’t finish strong.”
I closed my eyes for a second as I crossed the line again, opening them, but I slowed myself down just enough to get my bearings again.
When I finally stumbled at lap 22, I was done, stopping dead, breathing and out.
“Twenty-two,” Coach Cole said, clicking his pen shut. “Could’ve pushed twenty-five easy, Stellar — but you’ve got to work on that pacing. You’re all drive, no strategy.”
I straightened up. Twenty-five? Was he serious? There was no way I could have pushed my ankle, which still clobbing hurt, past how far I took it.
But all I said was, “I’ll remember that next time I do something like this.”
Coach Cole nodded, almost smiling. “Good effort, though. Keep that fire.”
As I walked off to grab my water bottle, I drowned out whatever whispers from my classmates.
By the time lunch rolled around, my legs ached from the Pacer test. I could feel the leftover tightness in my calves every step I took in that cafeteria line.
I got my pizza with no chocolate milk and no snack because my mom was a health nut.
Behind me, Colette Janson juggled her own tray, rolling her eyes at the questionable lunch options. “Seriously, how does this pizza manage to be both soggy and burnt?” she whispered.
I cracked a grin, but my mind was elsewhere, between the Pacer test and what I saw on Saturday afternoon.
We cleared the line together and started scanning for an open spot among the clusters of seniors, juniors, and the occasional stray underclassman who’d gotten permission to eat here.
I saw Zoey Freeman waving them over near the back, but I saw Sky Maxwell sitting alone.
Sky, Zoey’s cousin, was hunched over her tray, poking at a cup of fruit with her fork. She’d been at Silver Spring Central for a few months now — newish, but not brand new — and Colette and I had already had a few awkward but genuine conversations with her. Sky was quiet, but not that bad to talk to, honestly.
I stopped Colette with a nudge of my elbow. “Hey. You see Sky over there? She’s on her own again.”
Colette frowned when she looked in my direction. “Zoey’s her cousin. You’d think she’d at least sit with her family once in a while.”
I shrugged. “Zoey’s Zoey.” I shifted my tray to one hand. “Come on. I’m not leaving her by herself.”
We made our way past Zoey, who raised an eyebrow. “You guys coming over or what?” she asked.
I just jerked my head toward Sky’s table. “We’ll be over here, Zoey. You can come too if you want.”
Zoey rolled her eyes and turned back to her phone. “Suit yourselves.”
Colette and I slid into seats across from Sky. She looked up from her fruit cup, wide-eyed but not surprised. She gave them a small nod, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“Hey, Sky,” I said, offering a small smile as I set down my tray. “Rough morning?”
Sky shrugged one shoulder. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been the Pacer test.”
I snorted. “Don’t remind me. My legs feel like jelly.”
Colette grinned and nudged Sky’s tray with her fork. “How’s lunch treating you? Still refusing to try the pizza?”
Sky poked the fruit with a faint smile. “I trust this more than that cardboard.”
We all laughed. It wasn’t our first time sitting with her — or trying to get her to talk — but Sky was still slow to open up. I didn’t mind; I liked the challenge.
“So,” I said, tearing open my water bottle. “Tell us something new about you. You never brag about anything.”
Sky raised her eyebrows. “I don’t brag.”
“Fine,” Colette teased. “Tell us something you’re good at.”
Sky thought for a moment, her gaze drifting to the noisy lunch crowd before settling back on us. “I fixed my neighbor’s old computer last night. It hadn’t turned on in like two years.”
Destiny’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That’s awesome.”
Sky just shrugged again, looking down at her tray. “It wasn’t hard. I’m better with machines than people.”
“Well, you’re stuck with people now,” I said lightly, flicking my ponytail over my shoulder. “Specifically us.”
Sky’s mouth quirked up at the corners — her version of a smile. “I know. I don’t mind you guys.”
Colette elbowed Destiny playfully under the table. “That’s basically Sky language for ‘I like you.’”
Sky didn’t argue. She just went back to poking at her fruit, comfortable enough to let the conversation die down. I didn’t push. It was enough that Sky let them sit there — enough for now.
As I bit into my pizza, she caught Sky watching my tray with a weird look. “What?” I asked.
Sky shrugged. “You always skip the junk. Even now.”
I snorted. “Old habits die hard. But hey — next time, I’m making you try a bite.”
Sky looked at me, then at Colette, then gave the smallest nod. “Okay. Maybe.”
I grinned. It wasn’t much. But it was progress — the kind that made the ache in my legs feel worth it.
WEDNESDAY MORNING
My phone buzzed just as I shoved my math binder into my backpack. I almost ignored it — who the clob calls before seven a.m.? — but when I glanced at the screen, my stomach flipped.
Uncle Darren.
He never calls me this early. Especially because we live in the same house. Did he leave early?
“Good morning, Uncle Darren,” I answered, trying and failing to sound casual. “What’s up? Everything okay?”
“Destiny,” Uncle Darren answered, after seconds of hearing nothing but his shaky breath, “I wanted you to hear it from me first. The mint was hit last night. Someone broke in.”
I sank onto the edge of my bed, backpack half-zipped beside me. “What? Are you serious? How? Are you — are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Uncle Darren said quickly, but the edge in his voice told me otherwise. “I was the one who found it this morning when I went in earlier than usual. There’s police all over the place. They’re saying it was an inside job — or at least, whoever did it knew their way around.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Do they know what was stolen?”
“Coins from the vault. Not the entire thing, thank God, but a significant amount was stolen.”
I widened my eyes. How was that even possible? What kind of person would pull a job like that on the inside?
“They’re going to ask questions, Destiny. Anyone who works weekends, anyone with access. You’ll probably get called in to talk to them.”
“Me?” I exclaimed. “But I wasn’t even there! I only work on Saturdays!”
“I know. I told them that. They don’t want to leave any stone unturned. Nor should they, if they want to catch the scumbag behind this despicable crime. But just… be smart, okay? If they ask anything, you tell the truth. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I nodded, even though he can’t see me. “Okay. I promise. Uncle Darren… are you in trouble?”
More silence. I could almost picture him — pacing that tiny break room, chewing on his thumbnail the way he does when he’s trying to figure out how bad something really is.
“I don’t know yet,” he said finally. “I just know Mr. Sneck must be most certainly pissed. Just go to school, okay? Don’t worry. We’ll talk more later.”
Before I can say another word, he hung up.
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