by Zoe Evans
I did my best to picture the two choices in my head. Only Lanie.
“I’d go with the tuxedo pants and top if I had to choose,” I said. “But have you considered a dress?”
“Okay, Fashion Police, what are you thinking of wearing?” asked Lanie.
“Duh! My own creation, of course,” I said proudly.
“Of course, but, uh, just in case this is news to you, the dance is just a couple of weeks away. How are you going to make an entire dress between getting ready for tryouts, Grizzly practice, and school stuff?”
“Shhh! Lanie!” I looked left and right to make sure no one heard her. “Keep it down, will ya? I don’t need the world to know about tryouts.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about when I texted you before. I didn’t want Evan to hear because he’s friends with Katie and all. . . . Things are getting out of control with that girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“We basically haven’t spoken since we got back from New York. And she’s been acting like I’m . . . like I’m . . . Abby Lincoln! She’s always giving me the stink eye and avoiding me if I come within ten feet of her.”
“Whoa!” said Lanie. “That’s harsh. And isn’t she supposed to be, like”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“training you and stuff?”
I nodded my head.
“Double whoa,” said Lanie. “That stinks. So, wait. Does this mean you’ve made up your mind? Are you definitely trying out then?”
I shook my head. “I’m still torn. On the one hand, I love the Grizzlies like family. I would feel terrible about letting them down.”
“Yeah, but?” said Lanie.
“But on the other hand, I’ve always wanted to be a Titan. From the beginning, the goal was always to try out again and make the team.” The thoughts in my head were forming faster than I could say them. “But I think I chickened out somewhere along the way. I guess I’ve been terrified about being rejected again. And in true Maddy fashion, I really want to prove that I can do it. You know? Like face my fears and live up to the challenge.” The second I said it all out loud, I realized I’m STILL terrified.
Lanie giggled. “Aww, you sound like an after-school special.”
“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.”
Lanie looked at her watch, signaling it was time to head to class. “Mads, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be in the bleachers cheering for you.”
“Bring your pom-poms,” I said with a wink.
POST PRACTICE, RECOVERING ON THE BLEACHERS
Of course all anyone could talk about at practice was that darn dance. I can’t escape it! The main gossip is who’s going with who. Which is FREAKING ME OUT since I obviously don’t have a date yet. Hello? Bevan Ramsey? What’s your deal?
Jared proposed that we come up with a choreographed routine to debut at the dance. Like one of those YouTube wedding videos where the guests surprise the bride and groom by doing the entire “Thriller” video.
No one was quite as enthusiastic as Jared about the idea.
“Come on, guys! No one will expect it. It will be hilarious! I even have most of the choreography figured out.”
Of course he did.
Diane gave Jared a high five. “I’m in. I think it sounds awesome.”
Tabitha Sue shook her head. “I don’t. It’s embarrassing enough that I’m going by myself to this stupid dance, if I go at all. I don’t really feel like making a spectacle of myself.”
“Let’s think about this a minute, guys,” said Jacqui, always the peacemaker. “We’ve been working on more dance moves than ever in our routines. I think we should at least create the routine. And if we end up deciding to do it at the dance, great. If not, we’ll have something else up our sleeves for Get Up and Cheer!” She looked around at the squad.
“I agree,” I said. “We’re not making any decisions yet. We’re just going to learn it.” Truthfully, I wasn’t overwhelmed by the idea either. Especially if I was going dateless as well.
The Testosterone Twins were also unenthused.
“I’ll participate and everything during practice,” said Ian. “But there’s no way I’m doing a dance routine in front of the whole school.”
“Yeah, me neither,” said Matt. “I’d rather show up in a dress.”
“That can be arranged,” Jacqui joked.
“You have been known to bring out my softer side,” Matt quipped back, a goofy smirk on his face.
Ian tossed his friend an odd look. He wasn’t the only one. Jacqui also seemed a bit thrown for a loop. But the mood was quickly broken.
“You all are such Negative Nancys,” grumbled Jared.
“We may be negative,” Ian began, “but you’re—”
“All right, all right. Enough,” Jacqui cut him off before he could say anything too mean to Jared. “Let’s come back tomorrow with ideas for what song to use, okay?”
Jared offered his suggestion immediately. “Oh, no need to take a vote,” he said excitedly. “I already have the song picked out. Picture this.” He placed his hands together so that they looked like a frame. “The lights dim, the DJ shuts his music off, we assemble in the middle of the dance floor, and BAM! ‘On Any Sunday’ from Footloose starts playing over the loudspeakers!”
Everyone looked at Jared like he was speaking an alien language.
“What? Oh, c’mon. You’ve never seen the musical?” he squeaked.
“Sorry, Jared,” I said. “I think we’ll have to stick with casting votes.”
I lingered around after practice until the Titans were finished too. I absolutely, positively HAD to talk to Katie tonight or I would go out of my mind. I waited until Clementine and Hilary had left for the locker rooms, and it was just Katie putting away the last of the blue mats they used for stunt practice.
Katie didn’t see me approaching, so she looked startled when I finally said, “Hey.”
“Oh,” she said, looking around her as if she was making sure no one saw us talking. When she saw that the coast was clear, her face relaxed. “Hey, Madison.”
I took a deep breath. “I just need to know,” I said, my voice steady. “Since when did I become some kind of leper? You weren’t even this nasty when we were in that fight about Bevan.”
Katie bit her lip and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I really am.” She fidgeted with the bottom of her shirt. “But don’t you understand? It’s not like I really have a choice.”
My expression must have given away the fact that I didn’t understand at all. What did she mean, she didn’t have a choice?? “I don’t understand. Weren’t you the one who offered to train me?” I couldn’t help it, but I knew my voice had taken on a frustrated tone. “And if I remember correctly, you offered more than a few times.”
“Yeah,” said Katie. “I know. But then I realized, when we got back, that it just wouldn’t be possible.”
“What do you mean?”
Katie shook her head in frustration. “Honestly, Maddy, what did you think would happen when people saw us together at school? Have you thought about that at all? I can’t get caught training someone from another team. And how do you think the Grizzlies would feel?”
It was true. I hadn’t really thought about what the Titans would think, but now that Katie said it, it made sense. They wouldn’t want Katie training a Grizzly—it would be like giving an advantage to the opposing team. I mean, even though we were officially on the same side, since we never compete against each other. Still, there’s definitely a subtle rivalry developing between the two teams—especially after Jacqui chose to stay on the Grizzlies even AFTER the Titans apologized for kicking her off and asked her to come back.
“Okay, fine, you have a point,” I conceded. “But there’s a big difference between giving me a BFF bracelet and aiming darts at my head. Do you think you could just try to be a little more civil?”
“I’m so sorry, you’re right. I guess I
’ve just been overcompensating. Clem has been, like, attached to my hip lately. I keep thinking she suspects something, so I guess I’ve been a little over the top. I’ll calm it down, I promise.”
Suddenly I was hit with a flash of brilliance. “Hey, I just thought of something,” I said, smiling. “We could train together in secret. No one would have to know.”
Katie considered this for a moment. “You’re serious?” she asked. “You really want to be a Titan that badly?”
“I’m almost positive I’m going to try out. That’s about all I know so far. But we don’t have much time. If I’m gonna do this, I need to start training now.”
Katie nodded emphatically. “All right,” she said. “I’m in. I’m not one to break a promise.”
Woo-hoo! She’s not mad at me AND I get to start training. Win-win.
NIGHTTIME, LIVING IT UP IN MY LIVING ROOM
Just came back from Evan’s house. I didn’t realize how many hours I’d been there until Mom called, saying it was “last call” for a pickup! Time flies when you’re having fun, right? I don’t even know what we did the whole time.
Let’s rewind: After practice, I went to the locker rooms and actually made an effort to look cute, even though I was sweaty and gross from practice. I know that Evan’s seen me at my absolute worst (think not having showered for days when I had the flu last year, in the hospital after I had my tonsils out, etc.), but something made me want to look cute. I used the face blotters Mom gave me a few months ago for the first time (they really work!) and put on some lip gloss.
Evan was waiting in the parking lot, but when he saw me, his face broke out into the biggest grin. He looked adorable, in that rumpled, “no clue” way of his. His button-down checkered shirt was a few sizes too small for him, but it actually showed off the muscles in his arms (which, BTW, I never noticed before).
“Hey, Madison.”
I dropped my bags on the ground next to his. “Hey yourself.”
“My, uh, mom should be here any second,” he said, scanning the parking lot.
I shrugged. I wasn’t in a rush. “No worries,” I said.
“I’m psyched to show you the new SuperBoy I’ve been working on,” he said excitedly.
“Oh yeah? So what’s this one about?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
“Okay,” I said.
Evan’s mom honked her horn as she sped into the parking lot. Mrs. Andrews isn’t known for her great driving skills. But I never remember her getting into any accidents, and somehow she manages to avoid speeding tickets. Watching her speed into the school lot, I hoped that her lucky streak would at least last until she drove us home.
“Hey, Maddy,” she said cheerfully as I heaved my gym bag and backpack into the backseat. “Been a while. How’ve you been?”
“I’m good!” I told her. Evan rolled his eyes at me, as if to say, “Can’t parents just be quiet once in a while?” But I didn’t mind.
“How’s your mom?”
“She’s great,” I said. “Just, you know, the usual.”
Mrs. Andrews nodded like she knew what my mom’s “usual” was, even though they’d never really been friends. We caught up on some of my latest cheer stuff, and school stuff, and then she flipped the radio on to a smooth jazz station and started humming along.
“Sorry for the twenty questions,” whispered Evan.
“It’s cool,” I said.
Evan bounded up the stairs to his room as soon as we got home, so I followed.
“Hey, Maddy!” Mrs. Andrews shouted up the stairs. “You stayin’ for dinner?”
Evan gave me a hopeful look.
I didn’t think Mom would mind. “That sounds great,” I said, running down the stairs so I wouldn’t have to scream. It’s one thing to yell like a banshee in your own house. It’s another to do it in someone else’s. “Thank you!”
When I got back up to Evan’s room, he had flipped on the small light over his desk, illuminating the countless stacks of drawing paper that were strewn this way and that.
“You ready for brilliance?” he asked me, holding a pile of papers to his chest.
“Always,” I said.
He extended the papers to me, so I took them and sat on the edge of his bed. I noted that he still had the same Spider-Man sheets from when he was little. Normally, I’d be all “What a dork!” but for some reason, today it just made me smile.
The cover of this latest SuperBoy installment showed everyone’s favorite laid-back hero holding up a thick textbook like a shield, as a Cupid-type figure pointed a bow and arrow at him. The arrow, of course, had a heart on the end of it instead of a sharp dagger. The title of this installment was SuperBoy and the Renegade Cupid.
I looked up at Evan, one eyebrow raised. “A renegade Cupid?” I asked.
Evan cleared his throat. “Just read it.”
Okay, here it goes: In the story, SuperBoy has a huge crush on a girl, and he’s figuring out the best way to ask her on a date. The comic shows him totally wimping out and running away in one scene, and in another, he gets a really dorky-looking kid to ask her if she likes him. Finally, he figures out he could use a little help from Cupid. So this little Cupid character wearing a mustache and a bow tie flies in. Cupid is supposed to hit the girl with a love arrow to make her like SuperBoy, but he aims at just the wrong second, making her fall in love with a random kid in the hall. SuperBoy says to Cupid, “You did that on purpose!” and then Cupid clutches his belly, laughing. I think Evan’s Cupid looked a lot like Elmer Fudd, but that’s just me.
“It’s not finished yet,” said Evan, his voice cracking. “But what do you think?”
“Creative!” I said enthusiastically. I like where this one is going. His comics are getting funnier and funnier. “That’s one ugly Cupid, though,” I added.
Evan laughed. I suggested we try to find a less offensive Cupid, so we spent the next hour surfing the Net for more attractive Cupids. It was hilarious! Not to mention mucho hard. You won’t believe how many creepy Cupids there are out there!
Then, in what seemed like an über-delayed reaction, Evan smiled and asked, “But you like it, right?”
“Yeah! I can’t wait to see how it ends. Does SuperBoy get revenge on Cupid, or does Cupid get away with it?”
Evan sat down next to me, looking over my shoulder at the pages in my hand. “So, the way I’m seeing this one,” he said, “is that Cupid keeps making the wrong people fall in love. Like, the principal falls in love with the janitor, and this popular girl falls in love with the biggest nerd in school. But in the end, Cupid definitely gets what’s coming to him.”
“Funny. Well, people do love happy endings. I hope SuperBoy gets the girl of his dreams.”
“Me too.” Evan beamed.
Then this really awkward thing happened where he was smiling at me and I was smiling at him, and neither of us said anything. And then he got this weird look on his face like either he was going to say something, or I don’t know, this sounds TOTALLY weird, but it looked like one of those looks you give someone before you’re going to kiss them. Can you believe?! I was absolutely terrified. Imagine! Evan and me kissing! But I didn’t move or anything, so I guess you could say I was tempting fate. Or, um, Cupid.
Then, like, from another universe, Evan’s mom was yelling, “Kiiiiiids! Dinner’s ready!”
Evan jumped, like, five feet in the air, and cleared his throat. I looked down and arranged the SuperBoy comic in order. “Guess we should go down,” I said.
“Yep, guess we should,” Evan said, avoiding eye contact.
Oh, sure, NOW he looks away!
Truth? I think we were both relieved to be Saved by the (Dinner) Bell.
“You guys okay?” asked Mrs. Andrews, looking from me to Evan. It was oddly similar to the moment at the cafeteria earlier today with Lanie.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” Evan replied, with a sarcastic tone. “Are you?”
Evan’s mom made a face. “Yes,
I’m fine, Evan, but there’s no need for that tone.”
EEK!! Embarrassing! No one likes being lectured by their mom in front of a friend.
“Sorry, Mrs. Andrews. We’re kind of dazed from staring at the computer screen for an hour.”
Mrs. Andrews worked on cutting her pork cutlet into bite-size pieces. “You kids and your computers. One day your eyes are going to be stuck to those screens and no one will be able to pry them off.”
That’s a pretty picture .
Evan got up to serve himself a little more. “Evan, save some for your father. He’s working late tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Evan. “I mean, yes, Mom,” he quickly corrected himself. When he sat back down, his knee touched mine by mistake (I think). But get this: He didn’t move it. So I didn’t move mine away either. I could feel this little tingle where our knees were touching. Not like static, but, like, a good feeling. An insane feeling, considering it was Evan’s knee. It’s not like Evan and I have never touched before—we used to roughhouse ALL the time when we were kids. He used to stick me in headlocks, like, five times a day. But this was different. WAY different. But not in a bad way. Which is so W-E-I-R-D!!!
After dinner, we watched an episode of made, and I could tell that he purposely sat way on the other side of the couch. It was like he was the North Pole and I was the South. It was like the thing that almost happened in his room had never almost happened.
Before I knew it, my mom called, making us both jump (again!) to say she was on her way to get me. On the car ride home, Mom was like, “We haven’t talked much lately.”
I guess she was right. But I don’t really know how I can tell her about my Titan tryouts thing, with her being our coach and all. And since that’s the thing mostly on my mind these days, I wasn’t really left with much else to say. Okay, fine, yeah, I have the dance on my mind too, but it wasn’t like I was gonna get all girl talky with Mom about it.
So instead I just said, “Really? Hmm.” And did my best to sing along to the song on the radio so she would think I was just in my own zone.
