The Best Friend

by Melody Carlson

  Focus, Lishia told herself as she counted the beats in her head and started in with the initial moves. She knew she wasn’t giving a spectacular performance, but at least she was keeping time—and remembering the routine. A rush of relief swept over her as the song ended and they all did some jumps, trying to generate spirit and enthusiasm from the crowd.

  The dance team came to the floor, preparing to do a routine while the JV cheerleaders got ready to do their skit. After the dance routine, the varsity cheerleaders took the floor again. This time Lishia felt a little more confident, but barely into the routine, she hit a slick spot on the gym floor and slipped, landing smack on her bottom, which sent the crowd into laughter. Naturally, the rest of the squad continued without her. She quickly got to her feet and, with a reddening face, attempted to get back into the yell, but she never quite made it.

  “Way to go, Vance,” someone in the stands yelled out as they finished. Lishia wanted to run, but she knew that wasn’t going to work.

  “Shake it off,” Riley hissed in her ear. “Just smile. Act like you don’t care and they won’t care either.”

  During the JV skit, Lishia tried to get her head together, but all she could think was that this was all wrong—so wrong! What had ever made her think she wanted this—or had she even? She couldn’t even remember. But now it was time to do another dance routine as the varsity basketball team came out to do some drills and get the crowd going.

  Lishia tried to look happy, but she felt like a woodenheaded puppet as she went through the paces. Did anyone else know how ridiculous she felt? How silly all these moves and routines were . . . as if their gyrations could actually help the basketball team this year. Everyone knew they were ranked at the bottom of their league.

  Mostly Lishia was thinking how glad she’d be when this assembly was over and she could go home. Of course, there’d still be the basketball game tonight—that would go on for hours . . . and the hours would feel like days . . . and what had she gotten herself into? And for what? As they ended the cheer, she glanced at Riley, who was jumping and grinning—thoroughly enjoying herself—and Lishia realized that her “best friend” was actually her puppeteer. Riley was the one pulling the strings to make Lishia jump. This image made her want to hurl for real.

  eleven

  Lishia heard the bathroom door open and close as she hid out in the stall, but she lifted her feet up so that whoever had come to this out-of-the-way restroom wouldn’t see her shoes and guess who it was while she waited for them to do their business and leave.

  At least the pep assembly was over now. Lishia wanted to lie low until the crowd thinned so she could gracefully (ha!) exit the athletic complex and call her mom for a ride. If Mom was busy, which was likely, she’d walk home. Or maybe she’d even ride the activities bus. It couldn’t be any more humiliating than what she’d just experienced, plus she could avoid another dose of Riley’s criticism.

  Yes, Lishia knew she’d blown it out there. Not just when she fell on her backside—as if that wasn’t bad enough! But she’d also completely blanked out on not one but two routines. Routines that she knew backward and forward and had been practicing for weeks. There was no good excuse for messing up like that. Now if whoever was in here would just leave!

  “So was it worth it?”

  A shock wave ran through Lishia—that voice sounded exactly like Gillian’s.

  “I know you’re in there, Lishia.”

  “Gillian?” Lishia said in a shaky voice.

  “Who are you hiding from, anyway?”

  Lishia didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t actually had a conversation with Gillian since that unfortunate night at the birthday party—something she had been trying to forget.

  “Come out, Lishia. I’m not going to hurt you . . . well, not too much anyway.” Gillian gave a wicked laugh.

  Lishia took a deep breath and considered the possibilities. There might be worse things than getting beat up by Gillian . . . like when she’d made a complete fool of herself at the assembly. And if Gillian beat her up badly enough, Lishia wouldn’t have to go to the game tonight—she would have a perfectly good excuse.

  “What do you want?” Lishia asked meekly as she slunk out of the stall, bracing herself for whatever was in store for her. Really, how bad could it be?

  “Just to see you.” Gillian scowled. “And to laugh in your face.” She made an attempt at laughter. “By the way, you were pathetic out there! Seriously sad and an embarrassment to good cheerleaders everywhere.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” Lishia returned her glare.

  “So tell me, was it worth it?”

  “Worth what?”

  “All the work you went to, you know, to get me kicked off the squad.”

  “You got yourself kicked off.”

  “You’re saying you had nothing to do with it?”

  Lishia shrugged and walked over to the sinks, making a pretense of washing her hands extra thoroughly.

  “You expect me to believe it was just a coincidence that you were right there, pestering me, waiting in the wings for me to blow it so bad that you could jump in and replace me?” Her voice was getting louder, and Lishia was getting nervous as she dried her hands. “Pretty convenient that our moms work at the same school—and how you literally stole my stuff from me.” She grabbed the shoulder of Lishia’s top, the top that used to be Gillian’s and still smelled of her, and then she tugged it so hard that Lishia heard threads pop, and the two girls were eye to eye.

  “I never asked my mom to do that,” Lishia told her. “Believe me, I was as blindsided by that as you were.”

  “Yeah, right!” Gillian let her go so quickly that Lishia fell backward, hitting her elbow on the sink. And now she was mad—not just at Gillian, but at everyone! “You can be mad at me if you want!” she yelled straight into Gillian’s face. “And maybe I even deserve some of it—but it’s your own stupid fault you got kicked off. You were totally drunk at Todd’s party—you made a complete fool of yourself! You know the code of conduct and you blew—”

  “I was not totally drunk!” Gillian shrieked back at her.

  “You were wasted,” Lishia shot back. “Riley even taped you—and you didn’t even know that, did you?”

  “I had one drink!” Gillian held a finger in the air. “One stupid drink! And you can bet that Riley and Vanessa had at least that much.”

  “Right, you had one drink!” Lishia rolled her eyes. “Then I have to say, you really cannot hold your alcohol, Gillian. You really shouldn’t drink at all if one single drink makes you act like an insane person. Seriously, what do you take me for, anyway?”

  “I swear, I had one drink,” Gillian seethed. Her face was just inches from Lishia’s now, and her hand was balled into a tight fist, as if she was going to smack Lishia right in the face. “Someone was messing with—” She stopped as the bathroom door opened.

  “Hey!” yelled Riley as she burst into the bathroom. “Back off, Gillian!”

  Gillian’s eyes grew wide as she dropped her fist to her side.

  “Get in here, you guys,” Riley screamed. “Gillian is beating up Lishia!”

  Just like that, the other cheerleaders stormed the bathroom and surrounded Gillian, forming a barricade between her and Lishia. “Leave her alone,” Krista, the biggest of the cheerleaders, yelled at Gillian as she simultaneously twisted Gillian’s arm behind her back.

  “Get her out of here,” Amanda commanded. “Now!”

  Vanessa and Krista escorted Gillian out.

  “Are you okay?” Riley asked Lishia with what seemed to be real concern.

  She nodded, standing up straight. “I’m fine.”

  “Did she hit you?” Amanda asked.

  “No . . . but I think she was about to.” Lishia sighed. “Thanks, you guys.”

  “What should we do with her?” Krista called from outside the bathroom.

  Amanda looked curiously at Lishia.

  “Just let her go,” Lish
ia told her. “She didn’t really do anything . . . I mean, besides yelling at me and acting tough. Besides . . . you can’t really blame her for losing it.”

  “She looked like she was going to kill you,” Riley insisted.

  “But she didn’t.” Lishia gave a weak smile. “Maybe she just needed to vent a little. You know she’s been through a lot these past few weeks.”

  Amanda put an arm around Lishia’s shoulders. “It’s sweet that you can see it that way, Lishia. You know, I’m liking you more and more.” She squeezed her. “I know you messed up out there and you probably feel like giving up right now. But let’s just consider that your initiation. Seriously, it can’t get worse, can it? Now you need to relax and go with the flow. Stop taking it so seriously. We’re just cheerleaders, for Pete’s sake, not brain surgeons.” She threw back her head and laughed. “Trust me, someday you’ll look back on this and see how silly it all was.”

  Lishia thought she could see that right now. But Amanda’s words were comforting. And it was kind of sweet how the cheerleaders showed up at just the right moment to rescue her. She guessed she owed them now. Besides, it wasn’t their fault (except for Riley) that Lishia felt like she was in such a mess. For their sakes, she would have to try harder. She was determined to try harder.

  “Lucky for you that Dayton saw you ducking into that restroom after the assembly,” Riley told Lishia as she drove her home. “He was on his way to his locker when he saw Gillian head in there after you, and he got worried. He’s the one who called to give me the heads up.” Riley frowned. “But what I can’t figure is why you took off like that and why on earth you went clear down there to use the restroom.”

  “There was a line at the other restroom,” Lishia lied. “And I really needed to go—remember how my stomach was so upset? Well, I couldn’t wait.”

  “Eww. Too much information.” Riley turned up her nose. “Anyway, you owe Dayton one for being on it like he was.”

  “I’ll try to remember to thank him.”

  “So are you going to be okay tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Lishia was determined to get a handle on this. “I’ll keep what Amanda said in mind. I’ve already paid my dues. Time to move on.”

  Riley laughed. “Yeah, we’ve all had our embarrassing moments.”

  “Even you?”

  Riley gave her a cool look. “Not really. I try to avoid those kinds of mishaps. But I do enjoy watching when others make fools of themselves. Unless it happens to be my best friend. Seriously, I don’t need that.”

  For some reason Lishia was thinking about how Amanda and Riley used to be best friends—at least she thought they had been. Maybe she’d been wrong about that too. “I’m curious,” she began cautiously. “Didn’t you and Amanda used to be best friends?”

  Riley shrugged.

  “But then Gillian came between you, right?” Lishia studied Riley closely, trying to figure this out.

  “Well, I’ll admit it was pretty irritating when Amanda started taking Gillian’s side over mine, but I suppose Amanda and I weren’t really best, best friends.” She smiled. “Not like you and I are.”

  “Oh . . .”

  “I don’t think Amanda actually has a best friend. She’s not like that.”

  Now that Riley said this, Lishia thought perhaps it was true. She had never seen Amanda really paired up with one particular girl—not for long, anyway. It was more like Amanda was everyone’s friend. Not an easy act necessarily. Not that Lishia thought it was an act . . . but it was sort of odd. Yet it was admirable too, in a way, although Lishia wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to pull it off.

  “I’ll pick you up at five thirty,” Riley said as Lishia was getting out.

  “Five thirty?” Lishia frowned. “Why so early?”

  “You know we have to attend the JV games.”

  “We do?”

  “It’s part of the cheerleaders’ contract. Didn’t you even read it?”

  “Yes . . .” Lishia nodded. “Guess I forgot that part.”

  “Well, after your performance today you can’t exactly afford to start blowing the contract.” She laughed. “You might end up like Gillian.”

  Lishia forced a smile, but she was thinking there were worse things. At least Gillian was free now. Although, come to think of it, Gillian didn’t seem any too happy about it.

  As Lishia went into the house, she wondered if everyone wasn’t in some kind of trap—stuck doing something they really didn’t want to do, but with no way out. Maybe it was just how life was supposed to be. Maybe she should simply get used to it.

  With that in mind, Lishia decided that she needed to bite the bullet and go for it at the game tonight. She’d been pretending about most everything anyway, at least during these past few weeks, so maybe all this was simply preparing her to become an actress. Maybe she would switch from art to drama next term—except that she really liked art!

  Shortly before the JV game ended, Lishia decided to make Amanda her new role model. She would pattern herself after her. The way Amanda encouraged the other cheerleaders, both JV and varsity, the way she kept a positive attitude, the way she could put a happy spin on anything . . . well, it was inspiring to say the least. Amanda was the quintessential perfect cheerleader, and if Lishia could be a little bit like her, it would be a huge improvement.

  Ironically, it seemed to help Lishia when it came to being in front of the crowd too. She made fewer mistakes and was less concerned about it when she did. She knew her parents and Grandma Willis were in the stands tonight too. But to her relief, she wasn’t obsessing over this. She was simply in the moment—and to her surprise, it was fun. Maybe this was how Amanda felt too.

  It wasn’t until the end of the varsity game, which they lost, that Lishia began to get a clue as to why Amanda was like this. Lishia wasn’t even sure if she was right or not, but it was her new theory, and she planned to cling to it.

  The reason Amanda was such a great cheerleader was because she didn’t focus on herself. Not the way others did, anyway. The other cheerleaders, especially Riley, seemed all-consumed with their images, like whether or not their lip gloss was shining, their hair was looking perfect, their jumps were the highest, their position in the lineup was the best, and so on and so forth. It was all about them. Not so with Amanda.

  The unusual thing about Amanda, and probably the reason she made such a good captain, was that she seemed concerned with the group as a whole. She put her energy into making the others both look and feel good. There was no doubt that she wanted everyone to be at their best—but she wanted them to be at their best together, as a team. It was rather refreshing. And it gave Lishia hope.

  After the game, everyone went to Allegro’s as usual. But tonight Lishia made an effort to stay close to Amanda, even sitting next to her. This wasn’t easy since it seemed everyone wanted to be her friend. But to continue her observations, Lishia felt it was imperative to have a front-row seat. Throughout the evening, Amanda continued treating others as if she genuinely liked them, as if they were truly special. She seemed unconcerned over the fact that her hair was a little messy or that her lip gloss had worn thin. She was simply in the moment, being kind and funny and real. And Lishia couldn’t help but admire her even more.

  “What is it with you?” Riley asked as they were leaving. “It’s like you’re obsessed with Amanda now.”

  “So sue me. But I think she’s really nice,” Lishia admitted. “I was curious how she does it.”

  “She might be nice, but she’s boring as it gets.”

  “I don’t agree.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re boring too.” Riley laughed.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Sorry. But I need a best friend who’s fun, Lishia, and I’m starting to get seriously concerned about you.”

  “So you don’t think Amanda is fun?”

  “No.” She said this like it should be obvious. “Do you?”

  “I don’t know her well enough to rea
lly say. But I do admire her. She seems, well, I can’t think of the word . . . maybe authentic.”

  “Authentic?” Riley laughed really hard now. “You’ve got to be kidding. Amanda is a fake.”

  “A fake?”

  “Yeah, she acts like she’s everyone’s best friend. How unreal is that?”

  “Maybe she’s naturally nice.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You’re just jaded, Riley. You think everyone is like you.”

  “Excuse me for being a realist. I can see right through Amanda. She’s a big fake.”

  “You’re wrong. Amanda is the real deal.” Lishia nodded her head. “She’s authentic. I’m sure of it.”

  “If Amanda’s authentic, I’m a saint.”

  “Well, you’re definitely not a saint.” Lishia pressed her lips together, controlling herself from saying what she really thought about Riley and sainthood.

  “I can’t believe you would fall for her little act, Lishia. Seriously, Amanda is the biggest phony of all.”

  “Why do you say that?” Lishia felt indignant.

  “Because she pretends to like everyone. No one can possibly like everyone.”

  “Why would she pretend? What would be the point?”

  “Because her life is a perennial popularity contest.”

  “A what?” Lishia blinked.

  “A perennial popularity contest. She’s like that girl on The Bachelor, the one who befriends every single girl there and just wants to be liked, or else she’s the beauty contestant who wants to win Miss Congeniality. But do you know what those girls get for their hard work?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. They lose the bachelor . . . and lose the beauty pageant. Those goody-two-shoes end up with nothing but a bunch of phony-baloney friends who don’t honestly care whether they live or die.”