Read Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny for Free Online Page B

out awards to
various players. They each got to say something, shouting out to
their friends and families and pretty much whatever came to mind. I
could barely hear them.
    Chute was the last up, blushing as the crowd
ramped up again, tossing more roses, turning the field more red
than green. She held her father’s hand and tried to speak but
choked on her emotions, which only riled up the crowd more. When
she finally spoke, and the crowd settled, she sincerely thanked
everyone for coming, it meant so much. She held up the MVP award –
a glittering globe – and the crowd responded.
    “I hope this empowers girls everywhere.
NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE!”
    She wiped her face and kissed her father’s
cheek and hugged her sister. She thanked her mother and wished she
could see her now.
    Best ceremony ever.
     
    It was almost midnight.
    I waited at the back entrance, watching the
team leave. Chute was the last out. She was escorted by a security
guard to my car in front of the school. I opened her door, thanked
the man and went around to my side and when I got in we met in the
middle, hugging tight. I loved the way she smelled. “I knew you
were there,” she said. “It was like I could feel you, you
know.”
    I know.
    The last of the crowd was being ushered out
of the parking lot by security. I took the wheel and drove down the
empty road littered with programs and cups.
    “Can you believe it?” Chute pounded the dash,
shaking her head and screaming. “I’m going home with this! Can
you freaking believe it?” She displayed the globe award on the
tips of her fingers. The surface was clear and polished, but it was
milky and opaque in the center, like it contained a galaxy.
“Socket, I don’t know if you know this.” She eyeballed me, deadpan.
“But I could be the best tagger of all time.”
    I laughed. “Where was that humility at the
ceremony? I mean, all you did was thank everyone and hoped to
inspire every girl to wear a sportsbra.”
    “Let’s see if I go pro.” She waved her hand
around the globe. “Oh, mighty award that looks like a crystal ball,
please tell me where I’ll be in ten years.”
    Asking for the future made me cringe. I’d had
enough of that. She chanted some mumbo-jumbo, fogged the glass with
her breath and rubbed it on her shirt. She pressed it against her
ear like a seashell.
    “Socket! Guess what?”
    “You win every tagghet award known to
mankind?”
    “No.” She leaned close. “You’re going to stop
at a red light.”
    I eased up to the stoplight, already red.
“Wow. That thing really does work.”
    “And now you’re going to turn left.”
    “Um, your house is straight.”
    Her hand crawled across my chest. “But the
park is that way.”
    “It’s midnight, Chute.”
    “Oh my.” She feigned surprise. “That means…
we’re going to turn into pumpkins any second. Promise me, Socket,
they won’t make me into a pie? Promise me!”
    “But your dad is expecting us.”
    She nibbled on my earlobe, her breath in my
ear. “I told him we were stopping at a party.”
    “He trusts me to get you home.”
    “Oh, you’ll get me home.”
    The light turned green.
    “Your dad,” I said. “He has a baseball bat,
you know.”
    “I just want to see the park,” she whispered.
“Is that so bad?”
    “But you’ve seen the park.”
    Her tongue was hot. Shivers ran down my
spine. “Not tonight.”
    The blinker flashed on the dashboard. I
turned left.
     
     
Proof
    It was 12:50 when we got to Chute’s
neighborhood. She was looking in the mirror on the sun visor,
fixing her hair. Her house was in a cul-de-sac, a single-story
ranch with white siding. The lights were bright in the bay window
to the right of the door. Her father was at the kitchen table. He
looked up when my headlights flashed across the house. I turned the
lights off.
    “We’re here.”
    “I look like I’ve been wrestling.”
    “It’d be good if you didn’t.”
    “Give me a second, then.”
    “Your dad’s