other girls and make sure they know where they’re going.” She frowned. “You’re a quiet thing, but you can introduce yourself to the girls in your cabin, right? Can you do that?”

Betty nodded. “Yes, everything will be grand.”

“There you go,” Mrs. Allen said over her shoulder as she hustled herself back toward the stairs.

Betty inhaled and gave a little knock on the cabin door before entering. Two young women lounged on a pair of bunks; one had her head hidden behind a copy of Photoplay. A third empty bunk hung above the other two, its height clearly designating it as the least desirable of the set.

“Sorry, kid. This isn’t the nursery. Keep moving down the hall,” one of the women said, folding an arm behind her neck and stretching her lanky legs out on the thin wool blanket beneath her.

From the narrow space between the bunks, Betty looked back and forth at her cabinmates. She had a sister in her late twenties back at home, Jean, and Betty had always been relegated to being the baby of the family. No more. She dropped her suitcase. “I’m Betty Robinson, your other roommate.”

The second woman put down her magazine as she pushed herself into a sitting position and extended a hand toward Betty. “Don’t pay any attention to Dee. She’s deluded into thinking she’s a riot, poor thing. Hey, don’t I know you from home? You’re from Chicago, isn’t that right?”

Betty studied the woman. She appeared forthright and plain, her smile genuine.

“Yes, I’ve been training with the Illinois Women’s Athletic Club.”

“I’m on the South Side of the city and getting to the IWAC is a pain in the neck for me, so my boyfriend trains me. My name’s Caroline Hale and”—she pointed to the other woman—“that’s Dee Boeckmann. You’re another sprinter, right?”

“Yes, I’m running the hundred.”

“Trying to be the fastest women in the world, huh?” Dee asked with an air of self-importance. “I heard that Elta Cartwright is a real speed devil. Didn’t she win the trials? And then there are those Canadians—what are they calling them? The Matchless Six? Sounds like you two have your work cut out for you.”

Caroline flashed her palm at Dee to stop her. “Cripes, quit giving us such a hard time and loosen up. This is supposed to be fun, remember?” And with that, she raised a lipstick and traced it carefully around her mouth before plucking a battered pack of Lucky Strikes from her pocketbook lying on the edge of her bunk. “Want one?” she asked, holding it out.

Betty had never smoked before, but she was on the adventure of a lifetime, so why not? She slid one from the packet and leaned in for Caroline to light it. The smoke burned her throat as she inhaled and she coughed, but it felt sophisticated to hold a cigarette aloft. She took another drag. Thankfully, the second try went down smoothly.

Dee frowned. “Couldn’t you two do that outside? I’m feeling a little seasick.”

“Already? We haven’t even shoved off from the dock yet. Don’t be such a killjoy.” Caroline swung her legs to the floor and balanced her cigarette between two long fingers as she stood, grinning. “But that’s not such a bad idea. What do you say, Betty, want to go out to the deck and see what kind of trouble we can get into? If we’re lucky, maybe Johnny Weissmuller will be out there in his swim trunks. Did you see the pool? It’s barely bigger than a piss pot.”

“There’s a pool?” Betty asked.

“Sure, how do you think the swimmers keep up their training?” Caroline said.

“Say, why are you so interested in Johnny Weissmuller? Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Dee asked.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look. There’s no ring on my finger yet.” She winked at Betty, exhaled a long plume of smoke, and held the door open. “All right, well, that settles it. Put down your bag, Betty. Let’s take a tour of this place. If we’re lucky, the fellas will already be training with their shirts off. Let’s have some laughs. We’ve earned them! For God’s sake, you know what I did to raise a little spending cash for this trip?”

“What?” Betty asked.

“I jumped out of a plane.”

“On purpose?”

“Yep, I was paid twenty-five dollars to parachute out of a plane.”

Dee snorted. “What on earth were you thinking?”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “I was thinking about making an easy twenty-five dollars, what do you think? I needed it. I’m the youngest of eleven kids, so it’s not as if I could ask my parents for money. They’re strapped.”

“What did your fella think?” Betty asked.

“Oh, he thought it was nuts, but he’s figured out that discouraging me is the best way to encourage me to do something, so he stayed quiet.”

Betty laughed.

Caroline ran her fingers through her messy bob of dark hair. She seemed to offer fun even if she wasn’t from California. Betty pinched some color into her cheeks before sashaying toward the door. “So, Dee, you’re staying behind to memorize the Olympic oath?”

Caroline giggled.

“No, wait,” Dee said, scrambling to her feet. “I’m coming too. The fresh air will do me some good.”

There would be plenty of time to unpack later.

2.

A few months earlier

Thornton Township High School

15001 S. Broadway

Harvey, Illinois

February 27, 1928

Mr. and Mrs. Harold Robinson

3 East 138th Street

Riverdale, Illinois

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Harold Robinson,

This communication is intended to clear up a misunderstanding. Coach Price has brought it to my attention that he believes your daughter possesses exceptional athletic abilities. After seeing Betty run for the train last week, her speed impressed him and he invited her to train with the boys’ track team. While I applaud Coach Price’s initiative and enthusiasm, I must set the record straight on school policy: Betty cannot train with the boys’ track team. In fact, the Illinois State Athletic Association prohibits interscholastic competition for girls in track and field events for good reason; it is well documented that women cannot be subjected to

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