Erin Teagan - Survivor Girl

Clarion Books

3 Park Avenue

New York, New York 10016

Copyright 2019 by Erin Pelletier

Interior illustrations copyright 2019 by Celeste Knudsen

All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to trade.permissions@hmhco.com or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

Clarion Books is an imprint of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.

hmhbooks.com

Cover illustration 2019 by Scott Brundage

Cover design by Jim Secula

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Teagan, Erin, author.

Title: Survivor girl / by Erin Teagan.

Description: Boston ; New York : Clarion Books, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, [2019] | Summary: Twelve-year-old Ali is unsure about joining her brother and their reality-show celebrity father, Survivor Guy, on location and disappointed when she learns how much of the show is fake, but heroic when wildfire strikes.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018051978 (print) | LCCN 2018056565 (ebook) | ISBN 9780544635364 (E-book) | ISBN 9780544636217 (hardback) Subjects: | CYAC: Reality television programsFiction. | Television programsProduction and directionFiction. | SurvivalFiction. | Self-confidenceFiction. | DivorceFiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Humorous Stories. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance. | JUVENILE FICTION / Family / Marriage & Divorce. | JUVENILE FICTION / Family / Siblings. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Friendship. | JUVENILE FICTION / Sports & Recreation / Camping & Outdoor Activities. | JUVENILE FICTION / Nature & the Natural World / General (see also headings under Animals). | JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / Survival Stories.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.T424 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.T424 Sur 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018051978

v1.0619

For Cailin, my littlest sister,
who is always up for an adventure

Its after midnight when I hear his car in the driveway and I stumble out of bed.

Ow!

Oh! Sorry! I say, forgetting my best friend is asleep in the trundle bed next to me.

She sits up, rubbing an elbow. Your dad?

I press my face against the window and see the Jeep, illuminated in the spotlights above our garage. Green and red, a snorkel attached to the hood, nets and snake traps strapped to the top, and a bungee cord holding a container of gas to the bumper. Hes home. I try to whisper, because its best if Mom doesnt know yet sinceofficiallyhe was supposed to be home in time for my sixth-grade graduation earlier that night. But when youre dealing with time zones and monster alligators and life and death, can you really be expected to keep appointments?

Your moms going to kill him. Im out of here, Harper says, sliding into her flip-flops.

I swear I see movement in one of the cages tied to the roof rack. Snake? Mongoose? Kitten? Harper wedges in next to me at the window.

Put your bag down, I say. Mom will never let you leave.

The door to the Jeep pops open and Dad steps onto the driveway. Its like a thousand-pound weight is lifted off my back. Hes home. Hes safe. But then my idiot brother, Jake, slides out of the back door of the car, his arm in a sling, limping across the driveway. Harper gasps, but honestly, is it really a surprise that Jake comes back injured every time?

Alison? Mom calls from her bedroom.

Its Dad, I say, bolting out of my room and down the stairs.

Before I can even get to the kitchen, Harper skidding after me, the door to the garage bursts open and there stand Dad and Jake, mud-streaked and sunburned. Dad lifts me up and tosses me in the air like Im two instead of twelve. Ali-Gator! he says, nearly squeezing the organs out of me.

Can we not say that word? Jake moans. His khaki sling looks like it was made out of an old pair of cargo shorts.

Hi, Jake, Harper says in her girly voice she usually saves for Brad Garrison. Its disgusting. Dads been letting Jake go on shoots for his show, Survivor Guy, ever since he graduated high school last year, and now Harper thinks hes some kind of celebrity. I keep reminding her hes the same kid who crashed his car into the garage a few months ago.

Dad shakes his head. Youll be fine, Jake. It was only a baby. FACT! he says and points a finger at him. They almost never carry diseases.

Where have you been? I ask. I thought you were in Saskatchewan.

Jake shifts his arm in the sling, cringing. Louisiana bayou.

You missed graduation, Harper pipes in, putting an arm around my shoulder.

I push her away. How could she say that? My dad just came all the way from the bayou, where Jake practically lost his arm to an alligator. What better reason than I saved my own son from the vicious jaws of a man-eating reptile? Excuse accepted, in my book.

Production went over, Ali. Dad drops his three-hundred-pound backpack in the kitchen, pots and spoons and fishing nets clattering to the floor. Wheres your mom?

I point upstairs and Harper starts to head toward the door. Will you knock it off? I say. Shell be happy to see hes okay. But I know shes probably fuming. Its like she doesnt even get that Survivor Guys have a commitment to the wilderness. And sometimes that means sacrifice.

Dad climbs the stairs, his hiking boots leaving crumbs of dirt on the carpet. Michelle?

We stand in silence for a moment, Jake picking at his sling.

You could have called, you know. I cross my arms. We were worried.

Jake rolls his eyes. Sure, next time Im wrangling mosquitoes the size of bats and losing half my arm to an alligator, Ill whip out my phone and give you a call. He snorts and so does Harper. Traitor. How could she think Jake is anything but seriously disgusting? I know for a fact he never changes his socks.

Can we go back to bed now? Harper asks, yawning. Its like one in the morning.

I yawn too, my body suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

I got most-improved player at the archery banquet, I say to Jake as we all head up the stairs.

What? No you didnt, Harper says.

Well, I almost did, I reply. Coach said I was the runner-up most-improved while you were in the bathroom.

Arent you the only person on the team? Jake laughs at his own joke.

I flick him in the back of the neck. Harpers on the team too. But to be honest, the team was pretty pathetic. We spent most of our time slurping down the blueberry-vanilla smoothies our coach brought from his side job at the smoothie stand downtown. My mouth waters.

Dad appears at the top of the stairs, stretching. Well, thats it for me tonight. Time to hit the hay.

He passes us on his way down, stopping to squeeze Jakes alligator-bite arm. Ow!

FACT, Dad says. That means its healing.

Harper and I glance at each other because were pretty sure thats not a fact. But Dads tired and probably half delirious from the long drive. He kisses me on the forehead and flashes a thumbs-up to Harper. See you kids tomorrow. I watch him leave through the front door.

Wheres he going? Harper asks.

Probably left something in the Jeep, I say.

Jake looks at me. Hes going to a hotel.

What? Why? Harper says, struggling to catch up with us on the stairs.

He hasnt lived here for like three months, Jake says. Thats what happens when parents