"I wish I had never come up with that word," Marco said. "Animorph. Gimme a break."
"Rachel, Melissa's father is one of the main Controllers," Jake said gently, ignoring Marco.
"She's in this whether she likes it or not."
I felt a bitter taste in my mouth. Jake was right, of course. Chapman was the logical lead to follow. And Melissa was our way to get close.
It made sense. It made sense for me to betray an old friend.
16 It also made me feel like dirt.
17 Chapter 4
The next day after school I headed for my gymnastics class at the YMCA, which is just across from the mall. They have a big indoor pool, so the entire building always smells of chlorine. Except for the weight room, which just smells like sweat.
My class is taught in a smaller room, with blue mats covering the floor. We have balance beams and uneven parallel bars and a vaulting horse with a springboard.
I'm okay at vaulting and the parallel bars, but I'm pretty lame at the balance beam. To be honest with you, it kind of scares me. It takes such total concentration.
It's not one of those real serious gymnastics classes. I mean, none of us is going to be going to the Olympics. When I started out, I had dreams of being the next Shannon Miller. But then I started to grow. I'm pretty tall now, for my age. People look at me now and say, "Oh, you're going to be a model," not "Oh, you could be a gym nast."
Most of us in the class are too tall or too heavy to ever be serious gymnasts. We do it for fun and for exercise. I do it because I've always thought of myself as kind of clumsy. My mom says I'm not, but that's how I feel anyway.
Besides, it's just cool, hitting the little spring board and flipping through the air to bounce off the vaulting horse and stick the landing. Not as cool as flying, maybe, but fun just the same.
Melissa Chapman was in the locker room changing into her leotard when I came in. She's the exception to the rule in our class. She does look like a gymnast. She's small and thin, even though she doesn't starve herself like some fools who want to get into gymnastics. She has pale gray eyes and pale blonde hair and pale skin. She looks like one of those solemn elves in a Tolkien book. At first glance she looks delicate, but when you look a little closer, you see strength there, too.
Melissa gave me the kind of not-very-warm smile she always gives me lately. Like she was distracted, or thinking about something more important.
"Hey, Melissa," I said. "How's it going?"
"Fine. How about you?"
"Oh, pretty much the same old thing." That was a lie, of course. But what was I going to say?
Yeah, Melissa, same old same old. Been turning into animals and fighting aliens. You know, the usual.
Melissa didn't say anything else. She just adjusted her leotard and started to do a few little stretches. That's the way it was. We said hi, but not much more. It used to be we were very close. She was my second best friend, after Cassie.
"Melissa, I was thinking . . . maybe you'd like to walk over to the mall with me after class? I have to buy a new pair of sneakers."
"The mall?" She stammered a little, and then started blushing. "You mean, go shopping?"
18 "Yeah. You know -- walk around and look at stuff and check out the cute guys and diss the snotty women at the perfume counters."
I tried to sound casual, like it was no big deal. In the old days, it would have been totally nothing. But now Melissa looked like a trapped animal.
When had Melissa and I gotten to be such strangers?
"I'm, um, kind of busy," Melissa said.
"Oh. That's cool. I understand."
But I didn't understand. Not at all. She started to walk away. I was going to let it go, but then I remembered: This wasn't just about a friend who had drifted away. This was about her father, one of the leaders of the Controllers. One of our most dangerous enemies.
I grabbed her arm. "Melissa, look . . . I feel like we've kind of gone in different ways, you know? And I miss you."
She shrugged. "Okay, well, maybe we could get together sometime."
"Not sometime, Melissa, that's just you blowing me off. What's going on with you?"
"What's going on with me?" she echoed. For a moment a look of extraordinary sadness darkened her eyes and tugged downward at the corners of her mouth. "Nothing is going on with me," she said. "We'd better get out there or Coach Ellway will have a fit."
She pulled her arm away.
I just watched her go. I felt like a complete and total jerk. Something had happened to Melissa. And I hadn't even noticed. She was my friend and something had changed in her, and I hadn't seen it. I'd just gone my own way.
And now I was only acting like a concerned friend. The truth was, I was only paying attention for my own reasons.
I wasn't able to concentrate on the lesson. Not concentrating when you're doing gymnastics can be painful. I slipped on the balance beam and banged my knee so badly I cried.
Melissa was the first one to rush over. And for about ten seconds she was the old Melissa.
But by the time I'd gotten back up, she was off across the room in her own little world again.
It was right then that the terrible suspicion started.
Melissa had been acting very strangely. Her father was a Controller.
I looked at her from across the room and felt a chill.
Was she one, too? Was my old friend Melissa a Controller?
19 I didn't go shopping after my lesson. I didn't really feel like it. Melissa's eyes, the way she had looked at me, kind of killed my urge to shop.
I was supposed to head over to the mall, then call my mom when I was done to come pick me up. That was the plan. But since I didn't feel like mall-crawling I just headed home. Alone.
With the sky growing dark as rain clouds moved in.
It was stupid and careless of me. But I guess I was preoccupied with other things. Although at least I had the sense to stay out of the construc tion site.
I was walking down the sidewalk that runs along the boulevard when suddenly I realized that a car had pulled up just a little way down the sidewalk from me.
A guy got out. He looked like he was in high school or even college. He also looked like trouble.
I should have turned around and run back to ward the mall. But sometimes I don't always do the sensible thing. Sometimes I regret not doing the sensible thing. This was one of those times.
"Hey, baby," he said. "Want to go for a little ride?"
I shook my head and clutched my gym bag close. What an idiot I was to be so careless!
"Now, don't be stuck-up, sweet thing," he said. "I think you'd better get in the car."
The way he said it didn't sound like an invitation. It sounded like an order. Now I was really afraid.
I clutched my gym bag close as I passed him.
"Don't ignore me," he hissed.
He reached for me and missed. I walked faster.
He was behind me.
I broke into a run.
He ran after me.
"Hey. Hey, there! Come back here."
I had been stupid going out alone. But fortunately, unlike most people, I wasn't helpless.
As I ran, I focused on something completely different. I concentrated on an image in my mind.