by Zoe Evans
A chorus of moans went up in protest, louder than when Mom had announced our early meeting time. Just seeing Coach Whipley in the gym sent shots of anxiety through everyone’s brains. She was an awesome coach (if having a winning team is what makes you awesome), yeah, except that her coaching method relied more on fear than anything else. I think the Titans jump as high as they do because if they didn’t, she’d make them land on a bed of spikes or something.
“And,” said Mom, ignoring the reaction from the team, “Coach Whipley will be asking one Titan to come with her as an assistant for the day.”
This time, the moans and groans were even louder. I held back from joining them, even though inside I was like, “Noooo!” Unless it was Katie, having a Titan at OUR competition—the one we’d worked so hard for—would definitely ruin the mood of the day.
“If we’d wanted the Titans to be there, we would have sent out a handwritten invitation,” said Jared.
“Wait. Which Titan?” asked Jacqui. I was glad that she was the one to ask the question that was on my lips. I didn’t want to get one of my mom’s “looks” for not being a “team player.”
Mom shrugged her shoulders. “She hasn’t told me yet. But who cares, kids?” she said with her “go team go!” smile. “We all represent Port Angeles, and Titan or Grizzly, we’re on the same team. It is really nice that the Titans want to give us part of their weekend to help us out.”
Yeah. “Nice.” I didn’t have a good feeling about this new development.
After practice I pulled Mom aside. “Really? Coach Whipley?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have shown her that I was annoyed, but I couldn’t help it.
“Sweetie, I thought you’d be happy I didn’t ask Ed. I was trying to be considerate of your feelings.”
I instantly felt bad that Mom had done this for me, and here I was being ungrateful. It was nice of her to think about how the idea of everyone seeing her and Mr. D together might make me feel. But still. Coach Whipley? Shiver.
Lanie came over earlier tonight and lay on my bed listening to me whine for an hour before we got down to business. T-shirt-designing business, that is. She asked me if I’d spoken to Katie yet, but I hadn’t been able to. Practice had run late, and the Titans were in the middle of some deep discussion by the time I left the locker room. Le sigh.
I hadn’t heard from Evan, either, but I wasn’t surprised after how we left things. Well, not THAT surprised. Of course I was hoping he’d be waiting outside the gym, look up at me with his mopey eyes, and say, “I’m sorry we had a fight. I trust you. If you don’t want to talk about the picture, it’s NBD.”
YEAH, RIGHT. In my dreams.
After I complained for the hundredth time about how horrible it was to see Evan so mad at me, Lanie turned to me and said, “Okay. I’m going to say this one time, and don’t be mad.”
I nodded okay.
“I think you need to stop worrying about being such a good friend to Katie, and more about being good to yourself.”
“But Lanes, I wouldn’t do that to you. If you needed me to keep a secret, I would, no matter what.”
“Yeah, but I would never make you keep a secret like that. Not if it was hurting you to keep it.”
I picked at the little balls of lint on the Peter Rabbit doll that had been on my bed since before I could remember. “Yeah, yeah,” I said, not really wanting to agree with her out loud. Even though inside, I knew she had a really good point.
Then Lanie sat up straight, put a hand over her heart, and started bouncing on the bed. “I hereby declare that from now on tonight, we are going to talk about anything and everything BUT Katie, Evan, or Clementine. Deal?” she asked, holding out a hand for me to shake.
That sounded really good to me. I grabbed her hand. “Deal.”
We spent the rest of the night eating Twizzlers while making posters for the booth and finalizing some designs. It was nice to get my mind off things, even though it was only for a little while.
After she left, though, I started obsessing over everything again. I started to think that maybe Lanie was right. I feel like I’ve told Katie lots of times how keeping this secret is making me feel, and how it would be better for everyone (okay, maybe just me) if she came clean. But she hasn’t budged at all. It’s kind of not fair. I was thinking of just picking up the phone and calling Evan to tell him everything (assuming he’d answer my call), and practically right at the moment when I was dialing his number in my cell, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number and thought for a millisecond that maybe HE was calling ME from a weird number so he could hear my voice and hang up. My brain was def on overdrive tonight.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Madison, it’s Katie.”
Whoa. Does she have some kind of ESP?
She immediately launched into apology mode. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk earlier. I wanted to go over to you, but we were getting an old-fashioned Whipley Whipping about dress code. Hope you don’t mind me calling so late.”
I was sure there was more to that story, and ordinarily I would have been all over Katie, asking who had broken code, and what Whipley had said. But I was too annoyed about other things.
“No, not at all. So,” I said, stalling a little, “the reason I wrote you that note was because of . . . Listen, I think Clementine did something.”
Katie was quiet for a few beats, but then she asked, “Way to be cryptic, Madison. Like what? What do you mean?”
I told her all about that moment in the gallery when I heard the camera phone click, and how there was a commotion with one of the security guards there. “I tried to see who’d gotten caught snapping a photo, but whoever it was had already disappeared. It was weird, though, because I had a feeling at the time that the pic wasn’t just of one of the art pieces there.”
“So why didn’t you say anything?” said Katie.
“I don’t know. I didn’t want you guys to think I was being paranoid. But that’s not the whole story,” I said. I continued to explain what had happened earlier today, with Evan and the picture that was sent to him and how he wouldn’t even talk to me now.
“Oh. My. God,” said Katie. “You think it was Clementine?” Her voice sounded a little like it was coming from the other side of a door, kind of muffled and sad. I felt AWFUL about pointing a finger at her friend, but wasn’t it obvious?
“Katie,” I said, “you’re the one who told me that Clem goes to that gallery all the time with her fam.”
“I know Clem has her bad moments, but it’s just hard for me to think she would do something THAT mean.” I could tell by the sound of her voice that maybe it wasn’t that hard for her to imagine Clem doing something like this, but it definitely was hard to swallow.
“What, do you think that I have, like, multiple enemies at school?” I asked. I was feeling a little frustrated. Who else would have tried to ruin my relationship with Evan? It certainly wasn’t Mr. Hobart.
Katie didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Madison, the thing is, I tried to talk to her the other day about the way she’s been acting toward you.”
This was news. I’d thought Katie had given up trying to defend me to her BFF. “Oh,” I said. “You did?”
“Yeah. But she got all up on my case, and was like, ’Ooh, sorry. Didn’t mean to offend your new best friend. Should we go bake her Funfetti cupcakes?’”
“Okay,” I said. “So then what did you say?” I was hoping maybe she’d taken that opportunity to tell Clem the whole truth about auditions, New York, and everything.
“I just couldn’t, Madison. I tried, but I couldn’t.”
It was exactly as I’d suspected. Katie was too chicken to tell her friend the truth.
“Katie . . .”
“I know, I know!” said Katie, her voice rising. “I know how Clem gets, especially when she feels anxious or out of control. But I also know that she has her reasons for doing things. Like at first I thought she was just stressed about the fair and things
with her mom. But now I think it’s something else. Especially since she’s getting worse and worse. I just can’t figure out what that something else is.” She sighed loudly into the phone. “But she’s definitely got a sore spot with you, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” I was glad that Katie was finally seeing that this wasn’t all just Clem being Clem. This was personal.
“The thing is, I just don’t think her beef with you could be ALL about you not becoming a Titan. Even for Clem, I feel like this is going too far. But if it’s not that, then I just have no idea what she’s so angry about.”
I shrugged, even though Katie couldn’t see me through the phone. “I wish I knew. Why don’t you just ask her what’s going on?”
“Yeah, Captain Obvious. Like she’d just come out and tell me. This is Clem we’re talking about. She’s the Queen of Avoiding the Issue.”
“Yeah, I’ve experienced that firsthand.”
“This is just awful,” said Katie. “I feel like I’m causing problems for everyone. But Maddy, you have to still promise you won’t say anything? Not even to Evan? I’m not ready to fess up. I know I’m being a total loser about this, but I’m sorry.”
If she had called me maybe a few hours before, I might have put my foot down and said, “No, you HAVE to say something.” But since Lanie had mellowed me out a little, I was easier to persuade. I guess it was a slight improvement that at least Katie could see that this thing with Clem was real.
“Okay,” I agreed. (Though not happily.)
So now, just as I was about to tell Evan everything, there I was getting guilt-tripped again into still keeping this stupid secret. I hate the way things are with Evan and me right now, but what can I do? I don’t want to betray Katie. I think I’ll give this secret thing a little more time, but honestly I don’t know how much longer I can keep this going.
Just went online to see if Evan is there.
His screen name said he was active, so I mustered all the courage I had and sent him a message. “Heyyyy Evan. U therrre?”
Of course, nothing. Well, I figured, I couldn’t tell him the truth, but I could at least try to explain things to him.
“E, I’m really sry. I kno it looks like I lied 2 u, but I SWEAR it isn’t what u thinkkk. Just trust me, okay? I promise 2 tell u everything as soon as I possibly can. I HATE how things r btwn us rite now.”
I pressed send, and then checked back every five seconds to see if he’d responded. But the only e-mail I got was from Lanes, and it was a pic of one of the T-shirt designs we’d talked about earlier (a supercute one, BTW. It had a halter neck and little slits up the sides, fastened with safety pins). Yeah, it was a good message, but not the one I’d been hoping for. Sigh.
I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I couldn’t help it. I sent E one more message before shutting down for the night. If I didn’t physically turn my computer off, then I could totally see myself staying up all night to check if he’d written me back.
“G’nite E” was all it said.
I waited a full minute, but still nothing.
So now I’m taking a “long soak in the tub,” as Mom likes to say. Like in the movies, you always see stressed-out women in tubs with candles and a washcloth over their eyes. It always looks so soothing, like all their problems will go away with this tub. For me, not so much. Though I did try out a lavender bubble bath sample from Mom’s cabinet that was pretty groovy. A girl’s got to find her bright side somewhere, right?
Just have a teeny-tiny second to write because I’ve been in CRAZY CHEER prep mode. Thank goodness I have Get Up and Cheer! to think about, because things with Evan have gone from worse to even MORE worse (is that even a saying?). Every time I see him in school he looks pretty down in the dumps, and he NEVER responded to any of my texts or e-mails. Lanie said she tried talking to him about it, but he just said he didn’t feel like talking about it. (That was nice of her, though.) I’m, like, this close to decorating his locker with cutout paper hearts and delivering flowers to his classroom door, begging forgiveness and understanding. But luckily, I’m not that much of a dork.
I’ve lost both a cute crush and a best friend. I hate going through this really stressful precompetition week without having E to complain to. Poor Lanie has had to hear it all a million times because there’s NO ONE ELSE! Katie’s been too much in her own world too, because the Titans have, like, a million games coming up. So I haven’t had a chance to check in and see if maybe she’d changed her mind about telling Clem her secret (like she would have changed her mind in a day, anyway). Meanwhile Clementine has this big ol’ smile on her face every time she sees me in the hall. Like she couldn’t be happier with the way things are: Me, unhappy and Evan-less. Her, Queen of Everything: from running the fair to ruining my life.
Mom even canceled her “date night” with Mr. D to hang with me tonight because she could tell I was upset. I don’t want to go into my boy problems with her (gross), but at least it was nice that she is trying to be understanding. Even if her version of understanding usually has to do with stuffing me with pizza and junk food, and then making us watch her old cheer videos. Aw, good ol’ Mom. She means well, I guess.
But back to the competition: I’m feeling pretty good about this. Our pyramid is looking SUPERFINE (no one has toppled over!) and we’re getting the timing of everything right. We made a video of the routine, and we hit it almost perfectly (though I need to work on cleaning up my round-offs a little). Even the Beyoncé moves are lookin’ hawt. Mom is super psyched for us. She’s even promised a bagel breakfast for the morning of the competition, to get everyone revved up.
Here’s the big plus:
The rest of the Grizzlies seem psyched too, and no one has said a peep about the Diane thing in forever. I think what really helps this team is when they believe in themselves (cheesy, but true). Once they have a good attitude about what they’re going to do, the rest just seems to fall into place. The opposite is true too: If they start feeling nervous about something, the mistakes pile up one on top of another like dominoes. Not good.
Tomorrow night we’re taking our first night off from practice in what seems like ages, so we can rest up for the big day on Saturday. Actually, it’s going to be quite a big weekend in general. We have the competition on Saturday and the fair on Sunday. I’m going to be a walking zombie on Monday.
Seriously, my whole body hurts from practicing too much. Jacqui made us do a billion squats and lunges to really “power up those legs.” I feel like I’m in such good shape, though. That’s one of the things I really like about competitions: They push you to work yourself to the edge until everything looks perfect. And really, in cheer, there’s no room for mistakes. (That’s what I leave my regular life for. Ha-ha.)
Oh, I never wrote what the cheer part of our routine is:
GRIZZLIES!
GO GRIZZLIES!
WE’RE RISING TO THE TOP.
AND WHEN WE GO TO THE TOP
WE HIT IT AND DON’T STOP.
GRIZZLIES ROAR,
“GIVE ME MORE!”
GRIZZLIES ROAR
“GIVE ME MORE!”
SLASHING THROUGH THE CEILING
HEAR THE GRIZZLIES ROAR!
Cute, right? I don’t care that during practice when we were screaming our lungs out, some of the Titans started laughing. I think they’re just trying to psych us out. Not like we’re competing against THEM or anything, but I guess they’re just bad sports. Most of them, anyway.
K, wish me luck!
Gooooo Grizzlies!
SO MUCH TO WRITE ABOUT!
This morning already feels like forever ago. I woke up to the smell of freshly ironed cheer uniform. YUM! Mom likes to iron my cheer uniforms the night before, AND the morning of, just in case a tiny wrinkle may have made its way into the skirt. She’s nuts about stuff like that. Of course she was up before the sun and STILL managed to look like she’d had twenty hours of sleep. How does she do that? I am so not a morning perso
n.
I was still half-asleep when we got into the car to drive over to school. I rolled down all the windows and blasted the music on high.
“Maddy,” said Mom. “Get your head in the game. You want to set a good example for the rest of the team, don’t you? And here, put this in your bag for later.” She handed me a Tupperware of boiled eggs.
I knew she was right about me getting into the game. I tried to focus and bring as much pep into my system as possible. I pictured energetic things like jumping into a pool of cold water, running through a finish line, and most important of all: winning first place at a cheer competition. Suddenly, my nerves kicked in. What if we fall flat on our faces during the pyramid? What if someone twists her ankle during a tumbling sequence? And that’s when I realized: Nerves are a great way to stay awake and focused!!!
You know what else can snap a girl into attention mode? Seeing your arch nemesis boarding the bus to YOUR most important competition of the year. So, yeah, I couldn’t believe my eyes when we pulled up to the school parking lot and saw Clementine standing there next to Coach Whipley. Guess that was my answer to the question of whom Whipley would nominate to be her assistant for the day. Clementine didn’t look very thrilled to be there. I guessed either she’d agreed to help her coach with something without even knowing what it was (totally kiss-up-style), or she decided to come so that she could make my life even worse than it was already but hated having to give up a Saturday for it (awww, poor Clem. Not!). Turns out, though, that I was wrong on both guesses as to why Clem was in such a bad mood (more in a sec).
Mom dropped me off at the curb while she went and parked. Jacqui came running up to me, her dark curls bouncing up and down.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine,” said Jacqui. Then she looked behind her, then left, then right. “But listen, as you probably can see, Clem’s coming along for the day.” Jacqui rolled her eyes. “Girlie is in a bad way. She and her mom were literally screaming at one another when they pulled up. Even Coach Whipley tried to calm her down after her mom left. You could hear them yelling from, like, a mile away.”
