Daph’s teammates were sprawled across the gym floor–some propped up on their hands, tongues lolling, others just flopped down, gazing up at the ceiling in defeat.
“Damien, none of us can even get up! You really want a rematch?”
Dames stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the PE teacher pin a shiny gold star to Daph’s shirt.
The PE teacher had managed to get five gold stars for the class, and Daph, having singlehandedly beaten everyone else, walked away with all five for herself.
Dames looked thoroughly sour, his scowl so deep it could have cracked concrete.
Pointing straight at Daph, he barked, “Whoever comes in first, cleans up the equipment!”
“Why should she?” Monica protested, ready to defend Daph.
Penelope chimed in, “Yeah, why does the winner have to do all the work?”
Dames shot back, “The rest of us can barely move–Daph wiped the floor with everyone! Look at her, not even a drop of sweat! If she doesn’t clean up, who will?”
Monica muttered under her breath, “Damien, you look pretty energetic to me.”
Dames slung one of his teammates‘ arms over his shoulder. “I’m class president! It’s my duty to escort the wounded back to base.”
He attempted to hoist his friend up, but couldn’t even budge him.
Face flushed, Dames gritted his teeth and growled, “Come on, walk! You really think I’m gonna carry you all the way?”
The rest of the kids shuffled back to their classroom, leaving Monica and Penelope behind to help Daph gather up the sports gear.
Suddenly, a shrill scream cut through the gym.
Monica and Penelope jumped. Daph snapped her head toward the source of the
sound.
Out on the playground, a group of younger kids from the pre–K class were running for their lives.
A man in a black tracksuit and a medical mask was chasing after them, swinging a wooden stick.
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Chapter 136
Monica and Penelope froze. Daph didn’t hesitate–she bolted toward the chaos.
“Daph! Get back here!” Monica’s voice cracked with panic.
“Daph, don’t go!” Penelope shrieked.
But Daph was already on the move. She hurled the soft volleyball in her hand with all her might.
The ball rocketed across the playground and slammed into the masked man’s back. “Ahh!” The man crumpled to the ground with a scream.
He struggled to get up, but Daph was faster–she stomped down on his back and seized the wrist clutching the stick.
With a swift, practiced twist, she forced his arm behind him. There was a sharp, unmistakable crack.
“AAAAHHHH!” The man’s agonized scream echoed across the playground.
The pre–K kids, who had scattered moments before, now turned in awe.
They saw a little girl in a pink dress, her hair in twin buns tied with fluttering pink ribbons, standing over the fallen man.
She looked like a storybook doll–round cheeks, dark almond eyes, and rosebud lips.
The preschoolers gasped in amazement.
“Whoa! Did a superhero princess just save us?”
The man’s howls drowned out the sound of his joints, popping.
“Let go! Please–let go!” he sobbed, on the verge of tears.
A teacher came rushing across the field.
“Sweetheart, this man isn’t really a bad guy!”
Daph glanced up, frowning, but didn’t loosen her grip.
“He was chasing the little kids with a stick,” she said.
The teacher, still a good distance away–clearly wary of Daph’s fierce defense–explained, “We’re having a safety drill for the pre–K class. This man is an actor we hired to play the villain.”
