Crash Course
Crash Course
Maryn’s dad strode towards her. “How did the old Rockhopper perform today?” he asked, squatting down to take stock of the royal blue and red Rockhopper Comp 29 mountain bike. “I tuned it up myself at the shop yesterday.” He jiggled Maryn’s race number plate to see if it had come loose during the race.
“It doesn’t matter how many mechanics you hire at O’Brien’s Bikes, does it?” Maryn laughed. “You still take matters into your own hands.”
“Only where my daughter is concerned.” He began to run through a check of the chain, brakes, and gears, flicking away mud with his fingers.
“Rocky handled well today,” Maryn said. She and her dad always gave their bikes nicknames.
“Actually, I’d say that Rocky was well handled by you today,” her dad said, putting his arm around Maryn’s shoulders and giving her an affectionate squeeze. “Bravo, Sprint! You really gutted it out this morning.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“If today’s [winning] performance is any indication of the season ahead, we might have to look at replacing your humble steed,” her dad remarked, just as her mom, Gil [her brother], and Janey [her best friend] walked up.
“You’d replace your precious Rocky?” Gil asked, with one eyebrow raised. “You spend more time with that bike than you do with your own friends.” He gave Janey a wink. “Imagine how bummed a boyfriend would be about Rocky.”
Janey, like Maryn, was one year ahead of Gil. But Gil had the confidence of a high school senior, and the glint in his eyes disarmed people. He had inherited Mom’s straight, jet-black hair and husky-blue eyes along with Dad’s tall stature. Fourteen years old and approaching the end of grade eight, he already stood nearly six feet tall and, while he hadn’t yet confided in Maryn, she’d caught wind that he had a girlfriend. Younger than Maryn by just ten months, he now towered over her. Some ‘big’ sister, she thought, pulling her five-foot-six frame up next to his, and then sagging back again in defeat.
“Boyfriend?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “As if. Not everyone feels the need to couple up, Gil.”
At fifteen, Maryn was at the end of her grade nine year. She, Janey, and Gil all attended J.T. Seeley Collegiate. It drover her crazy that everyone adored her brother, and that even girls in her own grade were crushing on him. Why can’t I make friends that easily? She glared at him, just for being Gil.
In Book 1 of the “Maryn O’Brien” series, Maryn wants to prove to Coach that she’s ready for the Canada Cup mountain bike racing team. She also wants to complete her grade 9 piano exam and keep her grades up. When the demands of training, piano, and school start to feel overwhelming, she begins adding energy drops – purchased at a pharmacy – to her water. Even though Maryn is aware that neither her parents nor Coach would approve of her using the energy drops, she quickly finds herself using more than the recommended dose. Then, as a result of a number of students becoming ill because of the drops misuse, the drops are banned on school premises, and so Maryn begins mixing the drops into her water bottle before going to school. She also continues to struggle with her piano practice, homework assignments, and focus while cycling.
Two girls in Maryn’s grade, Julie and Stephanie, who have been forced by their parents to join the cycling team, don’t enjoy the workouts. To get out of their obligation, they lie, telling their parents that Coach touched them inappropriately. Coach is suspended, pending an investigation, just before an important race. Maryn overhears Julie and Stephanie discussing their deceit in the school washroom. Unfortunately, she’s brought her bottle of energy drops to school that day, and, when the girls see it, they threaten to tell on her if she exposes their lie. Maryn is in a quandary, afraid that Coach won’t let her go on to the Canada Cup race team if he finds out about her energy drops use. Then, during the important race, she loses control of her bike and crashes. Her main competitor sacrifices the win to help Maryn, saying, “Some things are more important than winning.” This action puts everything into focus for Maryn, and she realizes what she has to do: tell the truth to exonerate Coach and deal with the consequences, whatever they might be.
Whether it’s mountain biking, playing the piano, keeping her marks up in school, or competing with her brother, Maryn is driven to be the best. While this drive to achieve at the highest levels could be admirable, it makes Maryn her own worst enemy. Mom and Dad have determined that caffeine is bad for her because she needs a lot of sleep. However, she convinces herself that the energy drops, which keep her awake, won’t hurt her. Eventually, of her own volition, she cuts out their use. Except that Maryn is the elder of two children, it’s difficult to understand what’s really driving her. Coach – nurturing and enthusiastic – is simply but convincingly drawn. Maryn’s ‘BFF,’ Janey – also caring and attentive – is believable. Others in her life, however, could have used more rounding. For instance, both of her parents – fair, thoughtful, and good-natured – as well as her brother – kind, supportive, and wise for his age – seem too good to be true. And antagonists, Julie and Stephanie, are stereotypical, shallow, ‘mean girls’.
Crash Course would have benefitted from far more extensive editing. There is, for instance, unnecessary repetition as well as a number of dangling plot threads. For example, Maryn’s relationship with Liam is started on page 38 and then dropped within a page until it is picked up again on page 140 (requiring this reader to search back in order to figure out who Liam is) before being dropped again after little development. Similarly, Janey has some friendly but awkward conversations with Liam’s friend, Omar (around the same two places noted above in the novel). When asked about her feelings for Omar by Maryn, Janey replies as follows:
“Give it up Maryn. Seriously, Omar and me?” Janey stood up abruptly, her face turning pink. “We’re both sci-fi nerds. That’s all. Get it?”
Maryn blinked at her friend, suspecting otherwise, but not daring to say so. She nodded. “Got it.”
“Good.” Janey stomped away.
The subject is not broached again. Possibly this is a set-up for Book 2 in the series; however, it is in no way satisfying for readers of Book 1.
Crash Course takes on a relevant issue and ultimately reaches a satisfying conclusion. Unfortunately, it is hampered throughout by a lack of comprehensive editing.
Karen Rankin is a Toronto, Ontario, teacher and writer of children’s stories.