by Zoe Evans
But I had too much else to worry about to get wrapped up in Clem’s attitude problem and Katie’s BIG SECRET. Luckily, I stuck to my plan and practiced my jumps over and over until the team started trickling in.
“Hitting the mats early, are we?” asked Jacqui, pulling her sweatshirt over her head. Her dark curls stuck every which way from the static.
“Oh, you know,” I said, out of breath from doing a hundred pikes in a row. “Just setting a good example for the team. Hey, do you know what you want to do for the Grizzly booth?”
Jacqui went into a perfect split and stretched her entire torso onto the floor. (I wish I was that flexible. Still working on it.) “No. I’m, like, brain-dead about it. I figured we’d ask the team for ideas when practice started.”
“Good plan,” I said.
After our warm-up, we sat the team in a circle to talk about booth ideas. I didn’t expect Ian to be all gung ho about a school activity that didn’t have to do with athletics, but he was the first to volunteer an idea.
“I was talking to some of my buddies from football today,” he said. “And they kinda had a cool idea for our booth.”
“OUR booth?” said Tabitha Sue. “What would they know about cheerleading?”
Ian shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. Basically they feel really bad about being such jerks to the Grizzlies. And they thought we pulled an amazing prank at the Sunshine Dance, with our surprise dance routine.”
“Don’t forget your impressive solo performance,” said Matt, giving a dudelike head nod in Ian’s direction.
Ian actually blushed a little. “Well, I think that did have something to do with it,” he admitted. “Anyway, the team wanted to make up for it in some way, so a couple of the guys thought it would be fun to do a dunking booth.”
“Um, fun for who?” said Jared, raising his hand. “Who exactly is getting dunked?”
“Calm down, little man,” said Ian. “The jocks will be in the dunking booth. And THE GRIZZLIES will be the ones running the booth. It’ll be hilarious!”
“Hmm. I LIKE it,” said Tabitha Sue.
“I can get down with that,” said Jared with a smile.
“Vat do you say?” said Katarina. “It vill be the tastiest of revenges?”
“Sweet revenge,” Tabitha Sue and I said in unison.
“Of course, thees ees vat I said.”
“Well, guys?” I said, looking around the circle. “Is this a plan?” I raised my eyebrows at Jacqui, since she’d been relatively quiet during the convo. I had a feeling she probably wasn’t all that thrilled with “revenge” being part of our booth.
“Listen, as long as the football team is game, and it was their idea in the first place, I don’t have a problem with it.”
“Woohoo!” said Jared excitedly. This was like a dream come true. Revenge of the Nerds style.
I asked the team if they would mind if I also did a booth with Lanie that day. “Of course I’ll help with any preparations that need to be done for the Grizzly Dunking Booth,” I said. “And if you don’t want me to, I totally understand.”
“I think we’ll be A-OK,” said Jacqui. “You should do your booth.” Everyone else nodded in agreement. “Besides,” Jacqui continued. “How hard can it be to dunk a couple of jocks in freezing-cold water?”
“Cool. Thanks, guys.” I clapped my hands and got up off the mat, to signal that the “business affairs” part of our practice was over. “Okay, team. I say let’s start from the top with the dance part of the routine first, all right?”
Everyone was starting to get in formation, when Jared shouted out, “Wait, you guys. Come here for a sec. I want to say something, but I don’t want to shout it.” He cast a nervous glance over to where Clem and Katie were practicing. Then he brought his voice down to a whisper. “I forgot to mention that I saw Clementine Prescott signing up for Fair Committee at the principal’s office.”
“Clementine?” I asked, nearly choking on her name. Fair Committee is usually for nerds and Goody Two-shoes, not popular cheerleaders who rule the school (or at least THINK that they do). I guess nothing should surprise me anymore. Now that Clem signed up, it must mean it’s “cool.” Sigh. You couldn’t pay me enough to want to be in charge of the types of things like who wants to run what booth, and whether they actually show up. Talk about a logistical nightmare.
“Yeah, I was surprised too,” said Jared. “She practically clawed her way through the crowd to be the first name on the list. Like it was a contest or something.”
“EVERYTHING’S a contest for Clementine,” said Jacqui with a smirk.
“Wait a minute,” said Tabitha Sue, with her hands on her hips. “What I want to know is how, by the way, did you happen to see Clementine signing up for Fair Committee? Is there someone ELSE we know who’s itching to be in charge?” she teased.
Jared’s cheeks turned red. “What?” he squeaked. “I happen to have a lot of school spirit, and I like fairs.”
We worked on our dance moves for a while, until everyone completed one run-through without forgetting their parts. Oh, and we’ve added a few different things to the routine we’d created for the Sunshine Dance: We’re going to start the routine with the more difficult tumbling moves so everyone’s fresh at the beginning and has their strength. We also switched up some of the synchronized parts, so a couple of us will be doing a move and then a few seconds later, other people will echo that same move. Jacqui had a great idea that we should incorporate some moves from the new Beyoncé video to perform when that song comes on in the playlist. It looks awesome!
I really like the choreography and am VERY stoked that everything looks good even without Diane being part of it. I’m still a little worried about the stunt part of our sequence, though. We’re kind of rough on our pyramid formations, and Katarina keeps messing up on her back handsprings for some reason, even though she’s always been solid on those. Well, there’s always something to worry about, right? Mom says she’s not worried and that we’re just where we need to be in terms of preparation for the competition. “Working out the kinks,” as she says. “If you had it all figured out, you’d be doing things over and over and getting bored with it. A little nervousness and doubt is healthy.” I guess she’s the expert. She’s been in more competitions than I can count!
When I got out of the locker rooms, I was surprised to see Evan waiting for me in his usual seat on the floor by the gym entrance. It had been a while since he’d waited for me post-practice, so I totally wasn’t expecting it. If I had known, I might have brushed away the sweaty strands of hair that were clinging to the sides of my face and sprayed some Body Shop raspberry spritz to help mask the “eau de cheer practice.” Oh well.
He almost didn’t see me come out of the gym, he was so wrapped up in the comic book he was reading (big surprise). Just as I was about a sneaker away, he looked up at me and smiled.
“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” I said.
“Nice to see you, too,” he joked.
He held his hand out to me, and at first I thought he was doing that because he wanted to hold my hand or something. Then I realized with a big duh that he just wanted me to help him off the floor. But when our fingers touched, I felt a spark of electricity—like when you’ve been walking on carpet and then you tap someone on the shoulder. Ouch! But in a good way. I think he felt it too (or at least I hope).
“Thanks,” he said, wiping his hand on his ripped jeans.
“No prob,” I said, all super casual. Like my heart WASN’T beating a thousand times a minute when I was around him. Did I mention that this is still super weird for me to feel this way about someone I used to play with in the sandbox?
“So . . .” He was scuffing his feet on the floor, as if he was nervous too. “I just thought I’d come by and see what you were up to after practice.”
If I could have given him the words to say just then, they couldn’t have been any more perfect. Finally! It looked like we’d have a
chance to hang out again!
“Oh, well, drat. I was going to watch The Voice on DVR with Mom, so . . .” That was my attempt at a joke, but it kinda fell flat. Evan looked disappointed and was like, “Okay, fine. Then another time.”
“I was joking,” I said, giving him a shove. “As exciting as sitting on the couch with Mom is, I think I’d rather hang out with you.” As soon as I said it, I was embarrassed. I sounded like a love-struck puppy. Bad Madison! Bad!
“Oh. Cool!” he said.
Well, at least he didn’t notice.
I called Mom, who had stopped by Mr. D’s office, and told her I wouldn’t need a ride home tonight. Evan’s mom was waiting outside when we got to the parking lot, and I just hoped she didn’t mind a sweat-soaked, smelly cheerleader sitting in her backseat. She was cool about it, though: She didn’t make me sit on a towel like I might have done if it were my car.
We ate a quick dinner with Mrs. Andrews and then went upstairs to check out the latest in SuperBoy Land. I took my usual perch on the side of his bed, as he rustled through a pile of doodles and notepads that never seemed to make their way off his desk.
“How do you find anything in there?” I asked, uncrumpling a piece of paper that I’d sat on by mistake.
He bent down to pick a pencil up off the floor and made a few quick strokes on his notepad, then put it aside. “Photographic memory, I guess.”
“So you know where almost ANYTHING is in that pile?” I pointed to his war zone of a desk.
“The madness and chaos only adds to my genius,” he said. His fingers landed on the edges of a small pile of doodles. “Aha! Just what I was looking for. See?”
“Whatever you say,” I said. I knew I wasn’t Maid in Manhattan or anything, but at least I could see the bottom of my desk and my floor.
Evan pulled up a chair so he was facing me and handed me the sketches. He was bent over toward me in his seat so he could look on with me. I could feel his breath on the tops of my knees. As if he could tell, he cleared his throat and moved his chair back a little. I pretended not to notice any of it.
Okay, so here’s what’s happening in this latest installment of SuperBoy: Everyone’s favorite laid-back crusader now has a sidekick named BestGirl. And she just happens to be a girl who looks a TON like yours truly—that is, if I sported a full spandex bodysuit and a mask.
She has wavy long hair and freckles. Coincidence? Not likely. But then again, I ALWAYS read more into things than I should. So anyway, the cool thing about BestGirl is that unlike SuperBoy, she’s not, like, some ordinary gal who performs acts of courage and rescue while looking like a normal kid. BestGirl is always dressed for action, and the second she hears that SuperBoy needs help, she zooms in on a cute pink Razor scooter.
“It’s just a character sketch for now,” said Evan. “I’m still working on the story.”
“It’s cool. What do you think the story will be about?”
Evan pursed his lips in thought. “I was thinking of spoofing on the Spring Fair thing and making Principal G this mean, tyrannical ruler of the school, who is making all the dorks in school do the worst jobs, like trash pickup and stuff. And all the ‘cool kids’ would be doing fun things, like running the rides and booths.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “Sounds kind of like reality.”
“And it gets worse and worse. Like, she makes them clean the school grounds with toothbrushes.”
I giggled. “For some very sad reason, I can see that.”
“So all the dorks are crying and asking for SuperBoy to help, but one of the popular kids has trapped him in the funhouse. That’s when he calls for his backup: BestGirl.”
“And what does BestGirl do to save the day?” I asked.
He drummed a pencil nervously against his thigh. “Like I said, still working on it,” he admitted. Suddenly he perked up. “Hey, did you hear about these guys who dress as superheroes at night and actually fight crime and stuff in their towns?” he asked.
I shook my head no. “You’re not getting any ideas, are you?” It was a good thing I thought he was so cute, otherwise I’d have to have a serious intervention on this superhero obsession of his.
He motioned for me to follow him to his computer, and we both perched on his desk chair, trying not to touch each other. Slightly awkward! I was just glad that we had our first get-together FINALLY, and that everything seems to be ALL GOOD.
Hooray, for the almost-end of a Monday school day. Ugh, Mondays are the worst, especially if the weekend was fun. And I had an awesome weekend. Lanes and I went to the mall to get inspiration for our T-shirt designs, and I scored an UH-DORABLE tank top that I’ll rock as soon as it is warm out. It has braided straps that are halter-style, and the back is covered in lace. And it was ON SALE.
Lanes found another of those crownlike headbands she’s been so into lately. It has tiny skulls in it. I guess it is sort of cute—but I warned her that if she’s not careful, she might look like she belongs to some kind of witches’ coven. Or like she went on a tiny mouse-killing rampage.
Jacqui came over on Sunday so we could choreograph some cheers for the Bowling League this week. It actually wasn’t that hard to come up with cheers that rhyme with “strike” and “bowl.” Luckily, I have a little bowling know-how (thanks, Mom and Dad for our bowling outings when I was a kid), but Jacqui didn’t know a thing. I even had to explain the difference between a spare and a strike. Here is my fave cheer:
WHAT DO WE LIKE?
A STRIKE! A STRIKE!
WHEN WE BOWL
HEADS WILL ROLL.
And when we say “roll,” we’ll have two people do somersaults on the ground.
This one is also cute—we found it online:
SEE THOSE PINS STANDING THERE?
KNOCK ’EM DOWN AND MAKE A SPARE!
Hopefully we’ll have some space in the alley to cheer. If not, I guess we can just do regular sideline stuff. Supposedly this is one of the bigger tournaments for our school’s league, so maybe there will be a crowd.
I spoke to E both nights via chat, and he was cute and flirty, which is GOOD, but it is still super hard to say what any of it means. Ack! Boys.
Okay, so that was the weekend. Now for what JUST HAPPENED today. It isn’t a pretty story:
I was sitting in Mr. Hobart’s class, about to get called to the board to help figure out what “LN” equals, when Principal Gershon came over the loudspeaker demanding everyone’s attention. As if a person could do anything BUT pay attention, considering the screechy, extremely loud sound of our PA system. You know how they say that kids have a special ability to hear super-high-pitched sounds that adults can’t hear? I swear the PA system must have something similar going on, because when it’s on, I look around me and every kid is cringing. The teachers always look happy as clams, though. Conspiracy!
I went back to my seat (score for not having to complete the equation after all) and did my best to cover my eardrums.
“And now I am going to announce your new Spring Fair Committee,” said Principal G. Of course every other word sounded like, “Screech! Screech! Scraaach!”
“As a reminder, these peer leaders will be in charge of deciding booth assignments and keeping track of each person’s task the day of the fair. It is not an easy job, so I encourage you all to be respectful of their choices, even if they are not in your favor.”
Principal G rattled off the list, and when she got to Clementine’s name, I swear I saw the girl sit up straighter in her seat and stick her nose in the air. So what? She’s on Fair Committee. It’s not like she won some kind of popularity contest, right? This isn’t the Kid’s Choice Awards. ANYONE who wanted to sign up could have been on it. It is just so Clementine to make being on the Fair Committee some big deal.
I really think there’s something fishy about Clem signing up to be on the Fair Committee. Clem only does things for Clem—and while most kids (i.e., the Kiss-Up Crew) sign up so they can earn extra points from teachers—there is NO WA
Y Clem is doing this to boost a grade. There has to be something more in it for her. I just can’t figure out what.
I was starting to think that maybe I needed BestGirl to help me out here. . . .
Principal G wasn’t finished with her announcement, though. “You will be submitting your booth choices this week to the Fair Committee members, upon which they will be reviewed for appropriateness and variety. Your leaders will make all final decisions. If there are any disputes, please see the Head Fair Leader, Clementine Prescott.”
OMG. Clem? Head Fair Leader? Nothing about Clem’s style is ever fair. Everyone in class turned to look at Clementine. Her hands were on her lap, and there was the most serene smile on her face. Like all was right in this world. She reminded me of one of those blissed-out Tibetan monks we learned about in social studies. We’d watched a video about this one monk who could spend ten hours contemplating a blade of grass. But Clem certainly is no monk (as if!).
Principal G waited a few beats for people to applaud for Clem. I saw Clem turn to look at Katie, who gave her a smile and a wink.
“If you would like to discuss a particular matter with me,” Principal G continued, “my door is always open. Except when it’s closed, ha-ha!” (That’s her favorite joke.) The whole rest of class, Mr. Hobart could hardly get anyone to stop talking about their booth ideas and pitching them to Clementine, who just kept saying, “You know the rules. Sign up at Principal G’s office.” Eventually Mr. Hobart gave up trying to give us a lecture, and had us complete worksheets with partners.
On our way out of class, Katie and Clem started laughing and giggling together. Katie gave me the slightest of nods, but I knew she wouldn’t want to talk to me in front of Clem.
Lanes and I met up later outside the principal’s office to sign up our booth. (Jared said he’d sign the Grizzlies up for the dunking booth.) People were swarming the door with the sign-up sheet. You would have thought my dream came true and Principal G was giving out gift certificates to the mall!
