The word rippled through the mud and rain. Duke dropped his mark. The referee blew the whistle.
Viola Hastings didn’t just trip into trouble; she sprinted headfirst, cleats clicking on the polished floor of Cornwall Academy’s admissions office. she's the man 2006
“Spike thinks you’re sad,” Paul said. The word rippled through the mud and rain
Silence. Then Malcolm laughed. “A girl? We’ve been taking plays from a girl?” Viola Hastings didn’t just trip into trouble; she
After the game, muddy and euphoric, she found Olivia waiting by the lockers. “I knew in week two,” Olivia said. “Your eyebrows are too expressive. But I figured if you could fake being a boy and still be kinder than the real ones, the world needed you on the field.”
The Illegible Goal
“I won,” Viola said. “You were in London, writing bad poems about a girl named ‘Mystic.’”