I go over to her now and actually hug her. “I’m sorry, Jocelyn.”
She wipes her nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Yeah, whatever.”
Then she leaves and the kitchen gets very quiet. If this is a victory it sure doesn’t feel like it. I wonder if Kendra feels as guilty as I do.
“Wow,” she finally says. “I honestly didn’t think Jocelyn would give up that easily.”
I shake my head. “Me neither.”
“Do you think that was for real?”
I just shrug.
“Or is this just a setup?” Kendra gets a troubled brow.
I sigh loudly. “I don’t know. But I’m sure tired of it — I’m tired of all this crud — all this meanness. It takes the fun out of everything.”
“Why don’t you put some music on,” suggests Kendra. “It might lighten things up. And you better start getting the table outside ready. Put the paper plates and napkins out. And, oh yeah, I’ve got a bouquet of flowers in the back of my car you can get. I’ll take care of things in here.”
I look at Kendra, standing over the sink wearing the apron and funny hat, and it’s hard to really envision her as the mean girl. She looks more like a pretty clown at the moment. And yet …
“I do feel bad for Jocelyn,” she says in a quiet tone, as if she’s been reading my thoughts.
“You do?”
She nods. “But maybe it’s for the best.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Then I go out and set the table.
The cheerleaders start arriving and my spirits begin to lift. I try to push thoughts of Jocelyn out of my head, but it’s not easy since she’s pretty much the hot topic of the day. They can’t quit talking about her performance last night. I don’t mention to anyone that she was just here.
“And what are you doing here?” Falon questions Kendra when she finds her out on the patio, turning hamburgers and hotdogs on the gas grill. Everyone gets pretty quiet now, waiting for Kendra to answer.
But Kendra just makes a small bow. “Last night’s queen is today’s galley slave. I am here only to serve.” Several people snicker.
“Yeah, right,” says Falon, as if she’s not convinced.
“Hey, I couldn’t have done it without her,” I say. Then I glance at Kendra. “And did you guys hear the latest news?” I ask. Suddenly I have everyone’s attention. “Should I tell them?” I ask Kendra.
She shrugs. “It’s up to you.”
“Jocelyn stopped by a little while ago …”
“And?” demands Meredith hopefully.
“She’s quitting cheerleading,” I say.
Everyone but Falon, Chad, and me erupts into a cheer.
“That’s too bad,” Chad says after they settle down.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” says Falon. She studies the group now, like she’s trying to make up her mind about something. “I know that Jocelyn wasn’t totally to blame for what happened last night, but she’s been kind of a loose cannon and not exactly the sort of image that we like to present as varsity-squad cheerleaders.”
“That’s right,” says Meredith. “We need to clean up our image.”
Falon glares at her. “We all need to work at it.”
“I think that Jocelyn was a big part of the problem,” says Sally. “Whenever there was a fight or disagreement, she always seemed to be in the middle of it.” Then Sally goes on to remind us of a few times when Jocelyn mouthed off, and pretty soon everyone seems to agree.
“So should I tell Coach Anderson that we have a consensus about this?” asks Falon. “We’re okay with Jocelyn quitting the squad? We don’t think there needs to be an investigation or anything?”
Everyone except Chad and me chimes in their agreement. And I don’t think anyone really notices that we’re not saying much.
“Well, good,” says Falon. “That’s a relief. Because I have good news for you guys.” She smiles broadly. “We’ve been invited to the state competition.”
Now everyone starts cheering and jumping around.
“And you know they cut down on invitations this year. I really didn’t think we’d make the list.” Falon looks at Kendra. “I guess it’s a good thing you got that uniform and stuck around for practices. That’s going to help a lot.”
Kendra smiles. But not smugly.
“Not that this is totally official,” warns Falon. “I still have to speak to Coach Anderson.”
Even so, it feels official. And everyone seems happily relieved. And I have to admit that the general spirit of the cheerleaders is way better than usual. It seems like everyone is getting along better than ever, and I have to wonder if what they’re saying is true. Maybe it is because Jocelyn is no longer with us. Even so, I still feel bad. And guilty.
But it’s funny how you can get used to suppressing bad feelings if you have to, and I think I am becoming a pro. It helps having Jonathan around. I’m starting to see that he really is into me. And that’s fun. I haven’t had a boyfriend since Aaron Bradshaw during the last part of my freshman year. I think I’m ready for this kind of attention. I suppose I’m sort of eating it up too. Anyway, I’m feeling a lot better about life and cheerleading and everything after we’re done eating. The barbecue seems to be a success. Everyone seems to be having a good time, just hanging out in the backyard, practicing stunts, and talking.
Eventually I go to the kitchen where Kendra is starting to clean up.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says. “But why not?”
Then I give her a big hug and actually kiss her on the cheek.
She laughs. “What’s that for?”
“Your apron.” I point to the front. “It says Kiss the Cook.”
“What is this?” asks Sally in a sharp, suspicious tone. “You guys turning gay on us?”
“Yeah, right!” I throw a dishtowel at her.
“Well, it looked pretty weird.”
“Hey, lots of girls kiss,” says Kendra lightly. “Some even kiss on the lips. Reagan only kissed me on the cheek.”
“Reagan kissed Kendra?” says Ben as a couple of them join us in the kitchen. “Man, what have we been missing?”
“It was a kiss of gratitude,” I tell him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “She’s been a huge help to me with this barbecue.” Then I point to the apron. “Besides, that’s what it says on her apron.”
So the boys take their turns kissing the cook too. Kendra seems to enjoy this, but I still feel weird about the way Sally tried to turn that on me. It’s like she has her claws out and is ready to tear into me — a lion on the prowl. Kendra mentioned that Sally was jealous. But you’d think she’d be thankful to me for backstabbing Jocelyn and helping Kendra get onto varsity.
We get things somewhat cleaned up — I’ll have to really attack it later before Mom gets home — then we go back outside and practice some stunts. And just as Jonathan is doing a toss with me, I notice Sally sauntering out through the French doors with something white in her hands. And as Chad catches me, I realize it’s a pair of Nana’s Depends. I thought for certain that all of Nana’s stuff was out of here by now. We boxed everything up and the mover guys took some things to storage and others to her nursing home, including her case of Depends. But suddenly I remember that bottom drawer in the downstairs bathroom.
“What are these, Reagan?” Sally asks as she dangles the disposable pair of underpants in front of everyone.
I feel my cheeks getting hot as I walk over to her. I’m trying to think of a clever response, but nothing comes to mind. So I decide to tell her the truth, that they belong to my grandma.
“Got a little bed wetting problem, do we?” She waves the Depends around like a flag, then laughs.
“Those belong to Nana — I mean my grandmother.” I reach over and snatch them from her and wad them up.
“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes with a wicked smile. “Hey, it’s no big deal. We all have our little secrets, don’t we, guys? So what if Rea
gan is a bed wetter with a fondness for chicks and — ”
“Shut up, Sally,” says Jonathan, and I want to hug him.
“Oh, feeling defensive, are we?” She laughs. “I’m just joking with you guys. And, really, does it matter if Reagan wets the bed?”
“My grandmother used to live here,” I try to explain, feeling totally humiliated. “She has Alzheimer’s and needed to wear Depends.”
“Sure, Reagan,” says Sally. “Whatever you say.”
“I’ve met her grandma,” says Kendra in an angry voice. “And that’s the truth. So lighten up, Sally. You’re just jealous that I’m friends with Reagan now. You need to grow up.”
Sally glares at Kendra. “Hey, don’t go postal on me. I just thought it was funny that Reagan wears diapers. Sheesh, we all got a good laugh at poor Jocelyn last night running around in her underwear. It seems only fair that we share the jokes around.”
“Well, your joke is not funny,” snaps Jonathan.
“And why are you snooping around my house anyway?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “I didn’t know you had things to hide.” She laughs again. “I guess we all have things to hide, don’t we, kiddies?”
Kendra gets close to Sally now. Just a few inches from her face.
“And I happen to know you have a few things to hide too, Sally. You sure you really want to play this game? You could get hurt!”
Well, that shuts Sally right up. But it puts a damper on the party as well. Falon, disgusted with our general immaturity, says she has a date with Caleb and has to go. Soon everyone trickles away until it’s just Kendra and me.
“I can finish cleaning up,” I tell her. “Really, I totally appreciate all your help today. I could not have done it without you.”
She smiles. “Like I said, that’s what friends are for.”
sixteen
“COME ON,” SAYS SALLY. “LET BYGONES BE BYGONES, REAGAN. I REALLY WANT you to come to my party. I want you both to come.”
It’s been nearly two weeks since homecoming. Jocelyn has officially quit cheerleading. Kendra has replaced her. And things have been going relatively smoothly. Until today. Today, Sally is trying to talk me into coming to her birthday party.
I glance over at Kendra and she just shrugs. “I’m not going if you’re not going,” she says as she zips her jeans.
Naturally, this only seems to irritate Sally more. The truth is, I would love to totally boycott Sally’s birthday party — and for that matter Sally too. She apologized to me over the stupid Depends incident, but I’ve kept a safe distance from her since then. I do not trust that girl. She’s extremely jealous that I’ve replaced her as Kendra’s best friend. I have no doubts that she would take me out if she got the chance. And I don’t plan to give her the chance. Furthermore, I can’t believe she really wants to have a slumber party. I mean, seriously, didn’t that go out with middle school? I even pointed that out to Sally a few days ago. I could tell it hurt her feelings and made her mad, but I didn’t really care.
“Come on, you guys,” she urges us. “It’s my eighteenth birthday — my last high school birthday party. I want it to be like the good old days. And it’s going to be girls only. We can totally let our hair down.” She looks at Kendra hopefully. “Remember my fourteenth birthday party when we snuck out and TP’d Coach Hanley’s house?”
Kendra sort of laughs, then nods.
“Come on,” says Sally again. “I want all the cheerleaders to be there. I’ve even invited Jocelyn. That should show you that I’m trying to be a nice girl.”
“Is Jocelyn actually coming?” I ask, surprised by this since Jocelyn has been keeping a pretty low profile.
Sally shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
“How about Falon?” asks Kendra, glancing over to where Falon is just emerging from the showers.
Sally rolls her eyes. “I doubt it. I think she and Caleb plan to elope this weekend.”
We laugh at this. Then we make fun of the lame outfit Falon wore to school today. Not so she can hear us, of course; we’re not that stupid. If we want to dis some girl who’s within hearing distance, we make sure that it’s never Falon.
“Come on, you guys, it’ll be fun,” says Sally. “You can’t hate me forever, Reagan. I know I’ve done some lame things, but didn’t your other friends do stuff like that? Didn’t you guys ever play tricks on each other back at your old school?”
“I guess.”
“You have to forgive and forget.”
Kendra looks at me. “So, whadya think?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“It is her birthday,” says Kendra. “Maybe we should give the girl a break. We can always ditch the party if things don’t work out.”
“I guess,” I say reluctantly
“Okay, we’re in,” says Kendra.
“Such enthusiasm,” says Sally, acting hurt.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “Maybe we can muster more by Saturday.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
***
I’ve decided that I don’t like myself anymore. It’s not a good feeling, but it’s the truth and I feel like I need to be truthful about at least one thing. The rest of my life feels mean and hypocritical and dishonest, and I don’t know what to do about it. Besides backstab-bing Jocelyn, which still haunts me, I have also hurt a person I dearly love. Nana. Oh, I haven’t done anything to her directly. But I have quit visiting her. I have abandoned and betrayed her. At first I skipped a day. Then I skipped two. Now it’s been a full week since I’ve been to see her. Mom keeps nagging me and I keep making excuses. I’m afraid I’ll never go back there again. I’ll never see Nana again. It’s like I can’t. And, consequently, I feel like a stake has been driven into my chest. Into the place where my heart used to be. Now it’s just this hard, cold, painful spot that slowly grows bigger. I think someday I will be made entirely of steel.
It’s Saturday morning and Mom is at work. I am home alone trying to think of a way to bail out of Sally’s stupid slumber party. Give me a break. How ignorant does she think I am? Of course, I realize that if I don’t go and Kendra does go — well, that could be stupid too. It’s better to be around to defend yourself than to be missing in action and discover the following week that you got totally trashed by your so-called friends. Still, I don’t know what to do.
I hear the doorbell ring, and although I’m still in my flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, I go to see who it is. At least it won’t be Jonathan. I know this for a fact since I broke up with him after the game last night.
“Why are you so bummed tonight?” he asked me for like the fiftieth time.
“I don’t know,” I told him again. “Why don’t you quit asking me?” Of course, that somehow evolved into an argument. He assumed I was bummed because I wanted to break up. I assumed he was simply using that as an excuse because he wanted to break up. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew we had broken up.
The funny thing is that today I don’t really care. I don’t think I care about much of anything as I go to see who’s at the door. But when I look through the peephole and see that it’s Andrea Lynch, I’m tempted to pretend I’m not home. And yet I’m curious as to what she wants. So I open the door.
“Hello?” I say with a frown.
“Hi, Reagan.” She sticks her hands into the pocket of her hoodie and I take this as a hint that it’s cold out there. “Do you have time to talk?”
I shrug, opening the door wider. “You want to come in?”
“Thanks.”
Then we’re sitting in the family room and I am wondering what gives this girl enough nerve to just come over here uninvited, to sit here on our leather couch and act like she’s perfectly at home.
“I want to talk to you about Ruth.”
It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that she means Nana. “What about my grandmother?” I ask suspiciously.
“She misses you.”
“How would yo
u possibly know that?”
“Because I’ve been visiting her.”
“What?” I begin to envision her as a stalker. Perhaps she’s using Nana to get to me. This is so pathetic and weird.
“Our youth group has been going to Martindale Manor for the past couple of years now.”
“Why?”
“It’s just something we do, a way to reach out to people. We visit the patients there, take them little gifts, spend time with them, no big deal.”
“Why do you do that?”
She shrugs. “Because that’s what Jesus would do.”
“Oh, right.” I try not to roll my eyes now.
“I know you don’t get that, Reagan, but that’s just because you’re not a believer yet.”
“Yet?” I stare at this pushy girl and wonder what makes her so confident and self-assured. She certainly doesn’t have the appearance of someone who would normally gain my respect. And yet, to be honest, I do sort of respect her. And this bugs me.
“Anyway, I was surprised to see that Ruth was there. She actually remembered me. Well, not my name, but she remembered me. And so I’ve been going to see her when I can. She asked me about you … and sometimes she even calls me Reagan.”
“She calls you Reagan?” Now this makes me want to scream and shout and throw this stupid girl out of my house.
“It’s only because she misses you,” she says calmly, “and because she’s confused.”
“Still.”
“Why did you stop visiting her?”
I put a chenille-covered pillow on my lap, then pull it up to my chest. I think I want to conceal the fact that there is a stake driven in there.
“I mean, I know it’s hard,” she continues. “Martindale Manor isn’t exactly the nicest nursing home in the world.”
“You’re telling me!” I sock the pillow now. “I think they send people there to die.”
“Which is one of the main reasons our youth group decided to commit to it.”
“Because you think the people there are going to die?” I demand hotly. “Do you go over there and try to save souls, just so you can put some sort of a notch on your belt?”
Harsh Pink with Bonus Content Page 14
