by Zoe Evans
“Move closer, I can’t see you!” I said.
Jacqui put her face all the way up to the video monitor so I could practically see up her nose. “Better?” she joked.
“Oh, yeah. Oodles. Ok, so, Katarina, how’s the tutoring going?” Jacqui moved away so I could see Katarina better.
Katarina looked way better than she had the day before. Yesterday she seemed pretty depressed. Today she had back her usual confidence. She held her shoulders back proudly. “Oh, yes. I am having good tutoring.”
“She’s doing great,” said Tabitha Sue, smiling at Katarina. “I think she gets nervous when Mrs. T. explains it. Because of the language thing. But she’s comfortable with her friends, so it’s different when we go over the material.”
“Tabitha Sue is good teacher.” Katarina beamed.
“Well, Matt, you’re up tonight.”
Matt nodded in agreement. “If I have to . . .”
“We don’t have much time,” Jacqui pointed out. “The test is the first day back from break.”
“Hey, guys, she’s here,” interrupted Jared. He waved at someone I couldn’t see offscreen, and then pulled her over to the computer. “Everyone, this is Diane Huerta.”
Diane has beautiful long black hair and big brown eyes. And definitely a gymnast’s physique.
“Oh, hey,” I said. “I know you. We had math together last year.” Our school is so big that you might not know someone in your grade unless you have a class with them. Kind of crazy.
“Oh. Right! I remember,” said Diane. She addressed me and the rest of the team. “Well, I’m Diane. A friend of Jared’s. I have some dance and gymnastics background-but I haven’t really done any of that in a while,” she said apologetically.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” said Jacqui.
Diane shrugged and smiled. “So, Jared told me I should prepare something for a tryout today. I didn’t have much time, but here goes.”
Everyone cleared away so that I’d have a good view.
Diane started her routine with a series of backflips, and then some pretty awesome toe touch fulls. The expression on her face the whole time was like a little kid who’d just opened the best Christmas present ever. It was total Cheer Face, the way you’re SUPPOSED to look when you’re cheering (and which the Grizzlies kind of slack off on a lot of the time). Then she did a little cheer that she borrowed from the Titans, with some cute dance moves and hand motions:
WE’RE THE TITANS.
WE’RE RED, WHITE, AND BLUE.
WE’RE GOING TO ROCK THE HOUSE TONIGHT.
HOW ABOUT YOU?
She ended the routine with a couple more tumbles, and pointed to the audience (well, me) when she said the “you” in “how about you?”
It looked like she’d been practicing the routine for months. For someone who hasn’t done gymnastics in a long time, she’s a natural. Each movement was well timed and airtight. As soon as she finished, the whole team started clapping exuberantly-especially Katarina. I even heard some clapping from the other side of the gym-guess the Titans had been watching too.
Diane blushed and took a bow.
“Whoa! Nice job!” I said into the camera. Even though we knew she was going to prepare something, Jacqui and I assumed we’d have to ask her to do some other stunts and cheers, just to be sure. But it looked like we were wrong. . . .
She’s clearly capable-and will definitely be an asset to our team.
“Wow! Vere deed you learn ze gymnastics?” asked Katarina, who seemed psyched to have found someone else with her background.
“I used to take gymnastics in my old town, in Colorado. I was a gymnastics freak then. . . . But when I moved here I found the whole drama scene.” She smiled at Jared. “Obviously.”
She told the team that she’s always wanted to get into cheerleading because it seems like a perfect way to combine her passion for performing on stage and her love of gymnastics. “Because, you know, there’s lots of drama in cheer, too,” she joked. “I was going to try out last year, but the whole Titan clique really got on my nerves. And besides, they would never give a theater geek like me a chance,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“Well, that’s what the Grizzlies are for,” said Tabitha Sue. “We’re the band of misfits.”
“Hey, now,” said Jacqui.
“I was just kidding,” said Tabitha Sue, her face turning pink.
We asked Diane if she wouldn’t mind stepping outside while the team voted. She’d barely shut the door to the gym before the whole team raised their hands in a vote of YES.
“Ok,” I said. “So it looks like Diane is a no-brainer. She’s on the team, if she’ll have us.”
Everyone nodded.
“Jared, wanna go grab her?” I asked. Jared sprinted away from the screen, toward the gym’s entrance. He brought her back, holding her arm high up in the air like he was announcing the winning contender in a boxing match.
“Welcome to the Grizzlies!” I said to her. Everyone cheered. Also, it’s nice that Katarina is so cool with all this. I was kinda worried she would hate whoever came to the audition. But she’s a good sport. Probably better than I would have been in her shoes. I guess I didn’t really think about this before, but whether Katarina competes or not, now that Diane is part of the team, don’t we need to work her into the routine either way? It wouldn’t be fair to leave her out . . . would it? Must remember to discuss that with Jacqui next time we v-chat.
Ok, Dad just called to tell me there’s some kind of hotel party going on downstairs. Going to go check out the free food!
(LATE AT) NIGHT, MY VACATION CRIB
So, I WAS feeling pretty good about the day after the Grizzly meeting: I spoke to Evan (a little), my team is safe and happy, AND there was no one downstairs when I went to check out the party food-which meant I had free reign over the best snacks. Woot, woot!
I booked it to the fancy cheese plate and started making myself a little brie and cracker sandwich.
I must have been the first person on the scene, because nothing had been touched. All the wineglasses were lined up perfectly against the staircase-and there was a bottle of wine that someone had just opened but not poured. It started snowing outside again, which made everything even cozier. But just as I was relishing not being interrupted during my cheese and snow reverie, a familiar voice called from the top of the stairs.
“Ohmigod, Maddy, I had the best day!” squealed Katie.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking this, but what kept going through my head was: Katie’s day just HAD to be better than mine, didn’t it? I tried to swat the thought from my head and turned to face her. (I was also desperately trying to talk without cracker crumbs flying out of my mouth. Not so easy for me, as we already know!) But she clearly wasn’t paying any attention as she bounded down the stairs toward me, beaming.
“Hey,” I said. “So the audition was good, I’m guessing?”
“I totally killed the ballet portion,” she said, one hand on her hip. “I couldn’t believe it!”
“That’s great. Congrats!” And I really am happy for her. Turns out this was a good day for auditions all around .
“Yeah, talking to you before really helped,” she said, as she made herself a cracker. “So thanks.” She bit into her cracker. “Mmmm. I love brie.”
“You’re welcome. And, yum, so do I.” I smiled.
I decided I really like this version of Katie-the one without Clementine and Hilary always strapped to each side of her, sending bad vibes to all the people around her. She just seems so much more . . . real. And WAY less obnoxious.
We hung out on the lobby couches, ignoring the slightly miffed stares of the hotel concierge as we stuffed our faces with cheese. We watched (and judged like they do on E!) as the other hotel guests arrived, most of them dressed up for a night out on the town. Then we played a game where we would make up stories about each guest and why they were there. It was totally something I’d do with Lanie.
“Nine o’
clock,” said Katie, without turning her head. “The woman in the red-and-black-striped dress. Don’t be so obvious, Madison!”
“Ok,” I said, turning my head toward Katie but sneaking glances in the woman’s direction.
“All right,” Katie continued. “Here’s the story: This lady, she’s totally a spy, pretending that she’s here visiting her niece in the city. She’s planted listening devices in all the rooms.”
“You’re so wrong,” I told her. “She’s an old theater actress who lives in the hotel and imitates the personalities of the guests. She uses them for her performances.”
“Hmmm,” said Katie, thoughtfully placing a finger on her lips. “Could be. . . . So, what are your plans for tonight?”
“Um, spending more quality time with my dad and his girlfriend. What else would I be doing?”
Katie’s eyes had a mischievous gleam to them. “Well, my mom said I could hang out with some of the kids I met at auditions. She has some party to go to that will totally be boring. But these girls I met invited me to go to the planetarium to see a light show. You wanna come?”
I thought about my two options.
1) Nerding out with Dad and Beth and singing “New York, New York,” (it’s become this new pastime of theirs since we got here) as we walked down Broadway.
2) Meeting some real NYC kids and seeing my first laser light show.
Hmm . . . tough decision, huh? Ha-ha. Too bad Dad would so NOT go for it in a million years.
“Thanks for the invite,” I told her. “But my dad is definitely not going to let me go out alone in the city.” I shook my head.
“Duh, don’t tell him we’re alone. Just tell him you’re going out to dinner with my mom and me. I’m sure he’d like some alone time with his girlfriend. Right?”
At first I was thinking, not a bad plan! Then I thought some more.
“What if he talks to your mom?”
“Chill. I’ll distract her,” Katie said with a sly smile.
I felt bad about lying to my dad-but then I realized, he kind of lied to me, too. He brought me on this trip pretending this was just a “last-minute vacation.” And it so wasn’t. I mean, how long has he known he’s moving to New York? Nice of him to wait and tell me at the last minute. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s having moving boxes shipped here by the end of the week. Besides, it’s not like Katie’s new friends were going somewhere dangerous or anything-it was just the planetarium. I figured the worst that could happen was that I’d get neck pains from looking up at the screen overhead. And anyway, supposedly it was just up the block. So I decided: Might as well let Dad get used to his new life in the city. After all, this is what city kids do. And he wanted me to be a city kid, didn’t he?? (I also had a feeling he’d say yes, since he probably still felt bad about our tiff yesterday.)
I popped the question to Dad when he and Beth were drinking some vino.
“Sure,” he said. “If that’s what you want. But I’d like to talk to Katie’s mother first.”
“Oh, right,” said Katie, as innocent as an angel. “She’s showering upstairs. Do you want me to go get her?”
Katie was good. It was a perfect excuse to not have the parental units talk to each other. I knew my dad would feel awkward about interrupting someone while they were getting ready-especially a woman. Also, he didn’t have any reason to think I wasn’t telling the truth. In my whole life I’ve never given him a reason not to trust me. I’m not the lying daughter type. Or at least I WASN’T the lying daughter type.
“Hmm . . . well,” said Dad. “We do have to get moving soon to make it in time for our reservation.” He gave me a worried look. “Promise you’ll stick close to Katie’s mom, ok?”
“Ooookay, Dad. I’m not a little girl.”
“Yeah, yeah. But you’re my little girl, so be safe.”
Mega embarrassing! He might as well have put a little bow on my head and pinched my cheek.
At least Dad believed me. Kinda crazy how easy it was. . . .
I went back upstairs to change. When I got to my room, I noticed someone had dropped what looked like room service menus under my door. Hmm, that would be fancy! I bent down to see what they were and realized they weren’t menus at all-they were pamphlets for different art schools that Dad has been researching for me. I suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside.
Maybe Dad really is serious about me coming here. He seems to be trying to give me a lot of reasons to consider it. I put the pamphlets aside so I could read them later. I had bigger problems at hand right at that moment: What to wear when hanging out with real city kids?
It took me FOREVER to decide, because I knew the look would have to be just right. First I tried on some skinny jeans with an oversize sweater and lots of bracelets. Nah. Too much like a little kid wearing her dad’s sweater. Next I tried on jean shorts with tights and boots.
Too Madonna circa the superolden days.
Finally I decided on a tank top under a blazer with black pants. And my NEW BOOTS! It was absolute perfection!
Dad and Beth had already left for dinner by the time I met Katie downstairs. We were in the clear. Freeeedoooom! I could hardly believe it was happening to me. Lanie is going to FLIP out when I tell her (and not just because of the Katie factor). And the most awesome thing about New York is you totally don’t have to be able to drive to get around. So much is just within easy walking distance. And if not? There’s tons of public transportation (note my subway experience in previous entries), not to mention, like, a bazillion cabs all over the place.
“So your mom is cool with you going out alone?” I asked, as we walked off into the freezing cold night.
“Negative,” she said, shaking her head. “She’d kill me if she knew I was out without a chaperone. I told her I was going to one of my dance friends’ houses around the corner. She was so proud of my audition today, she didn’t give me a hassle at all.”
Katie gave me the lowdown on the girls we were going to meet as we walked up Central Park West. “This isn’t the typical New York City private school prep crowd, if that’s what you’re expecting,” she explained. “They’re a little more artsy. A little more out there.”
I laughed. “I’m having a little trouble picturing you with artsy-looking friends.”
Katie smiled. “I know, I know. They’re no Clementines and Hilarys. But that’s what I kind of like about ’em. And besides, I wouldn’t be able to chill with these kinds of kids back in Port Angeles. No one would get it.”
I shrugged. She was probably right.
When we got to the lobby of the planetarium, I noticed that Katie’s friends all kind of looked like Lanie, but slightly more put together. This WAS total artsy crowd central.
I stood around awkwardly as Katie hugged everyone hello.
“Hey, I’m Magda,” said one of the ballerinas when she noticed me on the sidelines.
“Oh. Sorry. This is my friend Madison,” said Katie. “From home.”
What a bizarre moment. Katie introducing me as “her friend.” Right?
“Hey, I’m Penelope,” said another girl. She was tall and had a really long neck. She reminded me of a really beautiful giraffe.
Penelope and Magda brought some other friends along too: This guy Luc, who was a total goofball, another guy named Darren, who also was a ballet dancer, and Cynthia, a friend from Magda’s building. It was cool to be alone and out and about in New York. I mean, it’s not like Mom follows me around every time I go out with a friend in Port Angeles, but we always go to places right in town: the coffee shop, the pizza place, the movies. And our town isn’t that big. In fact, probably the entire population of my town could fit in my teeny, tiny hotel room. These kids are my age, but they seem at least five years older from the way they talk to each other and how comfortable they are just hanging out in the city without parents. Maybe this is how it is for city kids-total freedom, you know? I could DEFINITELY get used to that.
At the laser light show, I ended up sitt
ing next to Luc (who BTW is ah-dorable-looking). He has this really cute jet-black hair, which he wore parted in the middle and shaved on one side. I’d never seen a kid with hair like that in Port Angeles. He had on this really old-looking sweater with holes in it that looked like it was from a vintage store. And he wore combat boots-which I’ve never liked on guys, but on him it looked totally right.
I’m pretty positive that someone like Luc could stop Lanie’s Dustin Barker crush any day. The weird thing was? I was kind of crushing on him all night! Not in, like, a serious way. Nothing like the Bevan thing. Just, like, in a can’t-stop-staring-at-him way.
He kept on cracking corny jokes all throughout the light show, whispering in my ear and imitating the sophisticated British voice of the narrator.
“So are you into acting or something?” I asked him, since he had that outgoing performance vibe, like Jared’s drama friends.
“I’ve been in a couple of my friends’ projects for school,” he said. “But I’m more into making things. I do abstract portraits of my friends. Like floating heads and stuff.”
Floating heads? Oookaay.
“What’s your deal? You a dancer or something?” he asked me.
“Nope.” I laughed. “Cheerleader, actually.” I felt a little embarrassed about it for some reason. Like I should be doing something cooler or more sophisticated. (And now I feel totally bad about that, too. Why was I embarrassed? I know cheerleading is a highly athletic sport, and that it takes a lot of skill and dedication. How can I be so insecure that a couple of out-there artistic kids made me doubt that?)
“No way. You? A cheer head?”
“Hey. It’s not like that.”
I wish I had told him how totally awesome cheerleading is and how dedicated you have to be to succeed. But I didn’t.
“Suuuure,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.
“I also design my own clothes,” I pointed out.
“That’s cool,” he said, nodding approvingly. He gaze went from my shoes to my head. “You wearing any of your work?”
