Bevan vs. Evan

by Zoe Evans

  “Okay, ignore everyone else,” I said to myself. I did my best to take everything in so I’d remember it later, when we would have to perform it without the Titans in front of us. Luckily, Katie had taught me a way to remember a longer routine: You attach a letter of the alphabet to each move. “Arms up” is A. “Hip thrust” is H. And so on. Then you just remember the letters, and hopefully you remember the routine. In the best-case scenario, the letters almost spell a very not grammatically correct sentence.

  “All right, five-minute break,” shouted Hilary. “We’re doing cheers next.”

  I went over to my gym bag to grab a water. I was doing okay so far. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as I feared? But before my mind wandered over into Blissful Titanhood Land, I talked some sense into myself. Last year I had made the mistake of getting carried away with the thought that I’d make the team, and when I didn’t make it I was completely destroyed. This time I tried to tell myself to live in the now. Don’t think about making it or not making it. Just get through this, and do your best trying.

  Diane was gulping down her water like she’d been crawling for miles through a hot desert. I know it was mean, but I couldn’t help but think, “Not so smart. Unless you like a side of stomach cramps with your tryout meal.”

  We reported back to the mats so Hilary could teach us the cheer. There were a lot of arm motions and just one jump, but again, it wasn’t THAT bad. I realized then that tryouts weren’t so much about challenging cheerleaders to perform the world’s toughest moves or cheers—it was seeing how people performed under pressure. That’s what killed me last time. I freaked.

  Spazzmadstic Madison kept herself hidden away for most of the morning. We had to perform the dance routine as a group, and I stayed completely focused. I even did a good job of not looking at Diane so I wouldn’t get spooked. (Maddy, 1; Spazzmadstic Madison, 0. Woohoo!) There WAS a split second where I almost went left when we were supposed to go right, but I corrected myself before anyone could see (or at least I hoped).

  When it was time for tumbling, I noticed that most people who were trying out really aren’t at my level AT ALL. They were more like me last year, minus any coordination. There were a few pretty good cheerleaders, but not really anyone who I was worried would take my slot. So there I was, tooting my own horn, when Diane suddenly catapulted herself across the map in a string of three beautiful back handsprings into a really high back tuck. And she wasn’t just good, she was REALLY good. Suddenly, the competition was ON. For realz.

  I could even tell that Clementine and Hilary were impressed. They were smiling at Diane as she flipped in the air. That is, until her landing. She must have overshot it, because next thing we all knew, Diane was tripping over her knees and falling face-first onto the floor. She looked like a Gumby with no motor control.

  Props to Diane, she didn’t let it show on her face. She kept smiling and looking confident.

  Loud “oohs” echoed throughout the gym. Talk about embarrassing! I had to admit, I felt horrible for her (even though she was the competition). Up until this moment, Diane and I had been nearly neck and neck in terms of tryouts. If I messed this up, we would be in the same boat. If I aced it, I’d be leaving her behind in the dust.

  Before I knew it, it was about to be my turn at the mat. I happened to look over at the bleachers, and what I saw nearly stopped my heart from beating. It was Jacqui! I had no idea what she was doing there at first. But then I realized it made sense. This was her first time not at Titan tryouts, so she probably just wanted to see how everything went down. But this was BAD. She didn’t look too happy. Not angry, but I don’t know . . . maybe disappointed? She saw me looking at her and gave me a quick thumbs-up. I felt sooooo guilty. I wanted to hit myself on the head for not having told her. Jacqui’s my friend, my co-captain. How could I have left her in the dark?

  I took my position on the mat, but I couldn’t get the image of Jacqui’s hurt face out of my head.

  I closed my eyes. I had to zone everything out. Diane’s skills, Diane’s wipeout, Jacqui’s face, the Grizzlies. “Concentrate,” I told myself. “Look excited and confident. Get in the zone.”

  I took four strides, and then my legs were up in the air, doing a high front hurdler. Then I did a back round-off to back handspring into a full. With NO MISTAKES! Woot woot! Katie was smiling ear to ear, and even Clementine and Hilary looked impressed. Which basically just meant that they kept their faces completely still instead of snickering or rolling their eyes at me. I have to admit, it was a little hard to get used to.

  Most of the other girls did basic cartwheels and round-offs. A few did back handsprings, but no one else did anything half as advanced as me and Diane.

  When tryouts were over, I felt like I’d never be able to walk again. My legs were absolute jelly. Coach Whipley announced that we’d find out the results on Monday!! So annoying. Last time we found out right away, and this time I’ve got to get through two whole days of being in the dark! I don’t know if I can take it. Grrr. Katie beamed at me as I walked out of the gym, but I knew she couldn’t give anything away. She was proud of me, though. Even Clementine gave me a head nod.

  It was time to face Jacqui. She was sitting on the bottom bleacher, saying “good job” and “nice out there” to the people she knew.

  “So,” she said. “How long have you been planning to try out?” She didn’t say it in an accusing way. I could tell she just wanted to know.

  “It was on my mind for a while,” I admitted. I felt so horrible. “But I didn’t decide for real until, like, a week ago.” I played with a tiny string that was hanging from my tank top. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Madison,” said Jacqui. “You shouldn’t keep something like this from your co-captain. You know I would have supported you no matter what.” Her dark curls waved back and forth as she shook her head emphatically.

  “I didn’t want you to bug out at me. I don’t know . . . My head has been so weird lately. I feel like everything I do is wrong.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Jacqui, nudging me playfully in the arm. “Seriously, you’re awesome, girl. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m crossing my fingers for you. Even though I’ll really miss having you on the team.”

  I laughed. “Well, we’ll just have to see what happens before we start saying our good-byes.”

  I’ll have to remind myself in the future that when in doubt, I SHOULDN’T doubt. People are awesome. Especially cheerleaders. Yaaaaay, Jacqui!

  This time, walking back to my mom’s car wasn’t a walk of shame. I nearly did a couple of flips toward the car.

  I feel really good about how I did today. Even if I didn’t make it, I know I gave it my all.

  Mom looked a little worried until she saw the smile on my face. “So?” she asked.

  “Well, I won’t know till Monday. But I have a good feeling.” I threw my bag into the backseat.

  “Get in, you little superstar, you. This occasion calls for ice cream.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I’m not five.”

  Mom looked a little disappointed.

  “Uh, who cares? Everyone loves ice cream!”

  As I went to town on my raspberry ice-cream cone, I tried not to let any doubt ruin my warm and fuzzy feelings. Doubts like, what if Diane gets my spot (even though I kicked her butt on mat)? Or what if Clementine and Hilary reject me just because they don’t like me? And on top of that list: Am I really and truly ready to leave my Grizzly buds in the dust? I can worry all I want, but it doesn’t really matter until I know the results on Monday. It’s time to somersault toward a bubble bath and soak these achy muscles.

  One more thing: I wish I could call Evan and tell him how today went. If we weren’t in this stupid “fight” (is that what it is?), I wouldn’t think twice. But then I’d have to explain that Katie had helped me with training, and that would bring up a subject I really wasn’t in the mood to talk about: Katie and Evan. Or the fact that now I’m go
ing solo to the biggest school event of the year.

  Well, I guess what “they” say is true. You REALLY can’t have it all.

  *Big sigh.*

  Monday, March 7

  Afternoon, in the “secret classroom”

  Song Level:

  Runaway Titan

  Yeah. What I said before about not freaking out? Whatevs. This weekend was FREAKOUT-O-RAMA. I couldn’t sit still for a second, my nerves were buzzing so much. Mom even asked me to do some yoga with her, “to center my chi.” Um. Yeah. Only if I can do the new “Oh No She Didn’t” pose the whole time.

  Lanes came over to watch a movie on Sunday, but she could tell my heart wasn’t in it.

  “Why don’t you just call Katie?” she urged. “She would tell you if you made it or not.”

  I threw a Cheeto at her. “Are you kidding? She’s a captain. Katie knows the rules. Besides, I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.”

  “Suit yourself, Nervous Nelly,” said Lanie.

  “Very funny,” I said.

  I still hadn’t heard from Evan, either. It was starting to seem like we really weren’t talking anymore. I can’t even really remember at this point who hurt who. He asked me to the dance, but I already had a date. He was upset because I hadn’t mentioned anything about having a date. Five seconds later, I got rid of said date, but oops! Too late. After pining for all of a nanosecond, Evan got past everything and asked someone else. Of course, when he was upset, I was trying to reach out and apologize. But now that I’m the one who’s upset, he’s nowhere to be found. Ugh. BOYS!

  The one thing that DID calm me a little bit was finishing up my dress. Late last night I fixed the hemline and worked on making the pleats as perfect as possible. It was basically done—it just needed a few sequins sewn on here and there.

  This morning I zoomed through breakfast, practically throwing Cheerios down my throat and chasing them with a few glugs from the milk carton (Mom wasn’t looking, so I was safe). Today was the day. FINALLY I was going to find out if I’d made the squad or not. On the car ride to school, I didn’t even want the radio on.

  “I just need to think,” I told Mom.

  “Silence is good for the soul,” she said approvingly. Yeah. Okay, Buddha.

  The thing that really SUCKED was that the results wouldn’t be posted until after first period. How would I survive through class?

  It was like my prayers had been answered (hallelujah!) when Mr. Cooper decided to show a DVD of Romeo and Juliet—a really old version (not the one with Leonardo Dicaprio )—during English.

  “You kids need to appreciate fine filmmaking,” said Mr. Cooper. He cleared his throat. “In addition, of course, to appreciating Shakespeare.”

  At his announcement, the whole class let out a big round of applause. But I don’t think they were appreciating filmmaking OR Shakespeare. More like having a class to doze off, zone out, or pass notes during. Poor Mr. Cooper. But at least it seemed that perhaps the cheer gods were smiling down on me after all.

  I actually stayed awake through the whole class. I don’t think my nerves would have let me fall asleep. I was staring at my watch like it contained the secrets of life. When it finally hit the hour, I sprinted up from my seat even before the bell rang.

  “Miss Hays, do you have an appointment we should all know about?”

  A few people snickered.

  I blushed. “Sorry. Um, just really need the ladies’ room.”

  Mr. Cooper cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Very well.”

  FREEDOM!

  I booked it down the hallway, nearly shoving a girl out of my way as I rounded a corner. Then I almost ran over Bevan—the last person I was thinking about that morning.

  Bevan grabbed me by both shoulders before I smacked right into him. “Whoa, cowgirl! Where’s the rodeo?”

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “The list was just posted from tryouts, and I’m dying to see it.”

  Bevan raised an eyebrow. “Tryouts? For the Titans?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t know you were trying out!”

  “Well, no one did, really. It was a secret.”

  Bevan looked at me like he was proud. Weird. “Good for you. I had no idea.”

  We stood there smiling at each other. It was nice to be talking like friends.

  “So what are you waiting for?” he said, playfully shoving me away. “Go, go, go!”

  I started jogging backward. “All right, all right! Talk to you later!”

  He gave me a dorky salute (what is it with guys and this gesture?). Then I turned around and ran toward the phys ed offices.

  When I got there, a huge crowd had already formed around the piece of paper that was taped to the wall. But before I could start shoving my way through the crowd, I noticed a very depressed-looking Diane slumped on the floor. She was like a poster child of rejection.

  Since I have this thing called a heart, I squatted down to talk to her. I didn’t even have to ask.

  “I didn’t make it,” she volunteered. Her eyes looked like she’d been crying.

  “You’re kidding!” I exclaimed.

  She looked away from me, to a piece of lint on the floor. “Well, technically I didn’t make it, but I guess the ‘good news’ is that I’m an alternate. But you did.” She pointed to the paper on the wall.

  “What? I did?” I wanted to grab her into a hug, but figured this wasn’t the best moment for sharing joy.

  She nodded solemnly. “Yep. Go see.”

  As I made my way through the crowd toward the list, random girls patted me on the back. “Congrats, Madison!” said one. “Nice job!” said another.

  And there I was. Right after Simone Jacobs.

  I can’t believe it. I AM A TITAN!!!!

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Katie, who looked like she was going to burst with happiness. “You did it!” she squealed.

  “Omigod! I can’t believe it!” I said to her, as we hugged.

  “Yep. Seriously. I’m so happy for you, Mads!”

  We jumped up and down for a few moments, whooping with joy. But I realized that underneath my initial excitement, I was feeling something really strange. It was that doubt again. This time the doubt didn’t have to do with me not making the Titans. This time I was doubting whether or not I actually wanted to BE a Titan, now that I have the chance.

  “Stop it, heartstrings!” I reprimanded myself. “Stop being such a Goody Two-shoes. You wanted this just as badly as brain did.”

  All I heard back was, “But what about your team, Madison?” (In this super-annoying pip-squeaky voice.)

  SO uncool.

  This was what I always wanted. Right? The thing I’d dreamed about since the moment I first held a pom-pom. And now I was willing to let it go for a second-rate team? Why? And why did I go to all this trouble to try out if I wasn’t even going to accept the bid? That’s when it hit me: Had I tried to make the team just so I could prove to myself that I’m worthy of the Titans? That they aren’t better than me?

  “You okay?” asked Katie.

  I plastered on a megawatt smile. “Oh yeah! I was just wondering where my mom is. I want to go tell her the news!” I hate lying, but I had to cover for my sudden change in mood.

  Katie smiled back at me. “We did it, Mads!”

  I gave her a high five. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

  The whole rest of the day I agonized over my decision. If I was going to back out of the Titans, I’d have to do it today, before practice. And if I was going to stick with them, I’d need to find a way to tell the Grizzlies I wasn’t coming back. Talk about awkward. I met up with Lanes in the afternoon to discuss.

  “Mads, you look like you’re having heart palpitations. I thought the nervous thing would end now that you found out you made the team.”

  I sighed deeply. “I know! Sometimes I wonder if I create problems for myself. Anyway, here’s the thing. Now that I made the
team, I’m not so sure I want in anymore.”

  Lanie grabbed the notebook where she wrote down all her notes and ideas for the Daily Angeles. “Okay, Miss Hays. Will you repeat that one more time for the record? I want to make sure I have this down right.”

  I swiped at her pen. “Hey, I’m being serious.”

  “Sorry. I just had a feeling this would happen.”

  “So, you think that’s the right thing to do? To stay with the Grizzlies?” I really needed to hear a clearheaded piece of advice, and Lanes ALWAYS gives it to me straight (or “street,” as Katarina would say, hee-hee).

  “I don’t know if it’s what’s right, but it’s what you want. Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. But I don’t know how to tell Katie. I feel like she’ll be so disappointed.”

  Lanie gave me her “what I’m about to say is serious” face. “Look, I’m not the biggest fan of Suzie Cheerleader myself. But I have a feeling that she’s not going to sweat it as much as you think. She helped train you because she thought it was what you wanted.”

  I thought about how I hadn’t wanted to tell Jacqui about tryouts for the same reason. And that turned out okay.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll tell her after lunch. I need to get this over with.” I went to gather my things, but Lanie put her hand on my arm.

  “Okay. Are you absolutely positive that you want to be a Grizzly permanently?”

  I smiled. “Yeah. It’s my team. I don’t want to walk away from everything we’ve done together.”

  I texted Katie to meet me in “our” classroom after lunch. When she came into the room, she ran right up to me to give me another hug. Hello, spontaneous bursts of affection!

  She was already wearing her Titan uniform—which I think they always do on days when they get new recruits, and sometimes the day before really important competitions—to boost team spirit and all. I took a good look at it, reminding myself that what I was about to say to Katie would mean that the only time I’ll ever get to wear it is when I play dress-up in Mom’s uniform. (Which, PS, doesn’t fit me because Mom is shaped like a model and me? Not so much. Oh, and, which, PPS, I totally don’t do anymore because I’m not four.)