The Skinwalker's Apprentice by Claribel Ortega

practicing every day at this time, and she needed another excuse not to go home. She also knew that Charlie’s teammates were about to eat his dust. They all got into position at the starting line, knees down. Their coach raised a flag, and in a flash they were off. They started off running parallel to one another, Brandon on the inside track, Charlie in the middle, and Mr. Muscles on the outside. It only took about fifteen more seconds before Charlie pulled ahead of them, far ahead. The two guys struggled to keep up as he glided away from them, their faces red and contorted, while Charlie barely broke a sweat. When they reached the finish line, Charlie was already zipping up his jacket and casually sipping his water. No big deal. Emerald chuckled to herself; she loved seeing Charlie at his meets. He literally never lost, but he wasn’t one of those people who went around bragging about how good he was. He was actually pretty quiet most of the time. He wasn’t the biggest guy on the track, and he definitely wasn’t the flashiest, so sometimes other teams would scoff after seeing him.
    “This is Charlie Woo?” they’d laugh, expecting someone who acted like a track star, not the quiet, unassuming kid who just smiled at them when they made fun of him.
    But that all changed once Charlie started running. When Charlie ran, the wind at his heels, his eyes zeroed in at the finish line before him, he was the biggest track star anyone had ever seen.
    “Hey, Emerald, happy birthday, Grandma!” He waved from the track with a smile, and Emerald smiled back. He jogged towards the stand as Emerald thought, Finally, a friendly face that isn’t going to abandon or ground me on my birthday .
    “What are you doing here, kid? Shouldn’t you be out raging in some seedy basement or something?” joked Charlie. The friends had a habit of calling each other ‘kid’; maybe it was a New York thing.
    “It was canceled. We ran out of drugs,” said Emerald, shrugging her shoulders and throwing her hands up. Like Jackson, Charlie knew there was a lot more to Emerald than being the bad girl at school, and he often made a joke of her reputation.
    “I’m starving. You wanna grab a slice?” she asked hopefully.
    “We are in Brooklyn, so might as well. And oh, yeah, I guess ’cause it’s your birthday too or whatever. Hope you don’t mind me smelling like a sock, though,” teased Charlie.
    “Nah, I’m used to it,” she said as they walked towards the track exit, laughing.
    Emerald had forgotten all about the huge trouble she was in, at least for now. Maybe this birthday wouldn’t be so bad after all.
    “So how much trouble are you in?”
    It was the second time that day Emerald had been asked that question, but this time it was by someone who hadn’t witnessed the disastrous school prank unfold firsthand. She was holding her slice crust down, letting the excess grease drip on her paper plate.
    “Let’s just say,” she said as she stretched a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth, “that if President Reagan himself came to try and pardon me, it wouldn’t work.”
    “Yikes,” said Charlie wincing.
    “Yeah, if I’m late just ONE more time this school year, my ass is grass. You know how punctual I am, though, so that should be no problem for me,” Emerald said with a sarcastic grin.
    “Seneka has a better chance of being named Miss Congeniality.”
    Emerald laughed, nearly spitting her soda out at Charlie’s comment.
    “That’s about right,” she said wiping her mouth with her jacket sleeve. She needed to stop being such a slob, she thought to herself, but old habits die hard. Charlie handed her a napkin, and she nodded her thanks.
    “Seriously, though, Emerald, you’ve got to try. I know the last thing you want is to be stuck at Upperten all summer.”
    “Trust me, I know. I’d rather eat rat meat than go to summer school. I have to stay out of trouble completely if I want to make it to graduation. I’m