The corner of the scrapbook jabbed her ankle through her backpack. She wished she could take it out and look at the pictures. That always made her feel better. She grabbed the dashboard. “Watch where you’re going, will you? That’s a red light.”

“So what? No cars are coming.”

“If you get in an accident, you’re going to lose your license.”

“I’m not getting in no accident.” He turned up the radio but then turned it down again. “I’ll bet your dad screwed about ten thousand girls.”

“Will you just shut up!” Riley wished she could close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else, but if she didn’t watch Sal’s driving, he’d probably wreck.

For about the millionth time, she wondered if her brother knew about her. Last year, when she’d found out about him, it had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. She’d started her secret scrapbook right away, pasting in articles off the Internet, plus pictures of him she found in magazines and newspapers. He always looked happy in his pictures, like he never thought nasty things about people, and like he could appreciate everybody, even if they weren’t beautiful or skinny or eleven years old.

Last winter, she’d sent him a letter at Chicago Stars headquarters. She never heard back, but she knew people like her dad and her brother got so much mail they didn’t read it themselves. When the Stars had come to Nashville to play the Titans, she’d made up this plan to meet him. She was going to sneak away and find a taxi to drive her to the stadium. Once she got there, she’d figure out which door the players came out of and wait for him. She imagined calling his name and how he’d look over at her, and she’d say, “Hi, I’m Riley. I’m your sister.” And his whole face would be happy, and once he got to know her, he’d tell her to come live with him or even just stay with him on school vacations so she wouldn’t have to stay with Aunt Gayle and Trinity like now.

But instead of going to the Titans football game, she’d gotten strep throat and had to spend a whole week in bed. Since then, she’d called Stars headquarters a bunch of times, but no matter what she told the operator, they’d never give her his phone number.