“Oh?” Jamie sat straight up in bed.
“Yeah,” Michaela shot back. “All I know is, it was a blast. Anyway, forget it. Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jamie thought she detected a little annoyance in Michaela’s tone. Had Michaela caught on to the fact that Jamie didn’t want her on the team?
Jamie hoped so. She didn’t mean to hurt Michaela’s feelings or anything, but if that’s what it took to keep her away from the Sharks, so be it.
“Well, g’night,” Jamie said.
“Thanks again for today,” Michaela said. “Jamie—you really think I did okay?”
“Are you kidding? Everybody liked you.”
“Whew!” Michaela said, laughing in mock relief. “Yeah, I guess it went pretty well, huh? I was so scared this morning.”
“Whatever,” Jamie said again. “I’m really tired, Michaela. Talk to you in the morning, okay?”
“Oh, okay. Sorry. I know you need your sleep. And, um, what time is the game tomorrow?”
“Four o’clock,” Jamie said.
Oh, no! Jamie thought. Is she going to show up at the game now? Great, just great.
Jamie knew Jeff Gates was going to be there, and she’d been looking forward to impressing him with her play on the court. Now he’d probably be talking to Michaela the whole time, not even watching the game.
“Four o’clock? Oh, no!” Michaela said. “That’s when Drama Club tryouts are. They’re doing Brigadoon this year!”
“Oh, gee, that’s too bad,” Jamie said, relieved. “I guess you’ll miss the game, then. Oh, well, there’ll be at least two more games after that, even if we don’t win the division.”
“Mmm…” Michaela’s tone told Jamie that she was thinking hard. But about what?
“Drama Club is excellent,” Jamie told her. “They do great stuff. You’ll love it.”
“Mmmm…”
Jamie smiled and pulled the covers up to her chin. Think all you want, she said to herself. That audition will take hours. And as for joining the team, forget it. Not in this lifetime!
8
I got it!” Jamie screamed, and dove for the ball. Inches from the ground, she got her hands under it and hit it high in the air, setting up the hitter perfectly. Seconds later, the Sharks notched another point.
“ ’Atta girl, Jamie!” Coach McKean shouted. “What a play! Let’s get ’em, Sharks!”
The two teams had banged away at each other for over an hour, with the lead seesawing back and forth. The first game had gone to the Kingsboro Mustangs, 15–13. In the second, the Sharks had built an early lead, then lost it, only to come back and win, 17–15.
Laurie and Jamie had been the stars of the match so far. Whenever either of them made a great play, the fans in the stands erupted—and leading the cheers was Jeff Gates.
Jamie glanced over at him now. He gave her a raised fist and a grin, saluting the incredible save she’d just made. Jamie felt her cheeks go red, but she gave him a smile before returning her attention to the game.
Jamie was having her best match of the season, and she knew it. Three times, when the Sharks had been on the verge of losing the second game, she’d made great plays to save the day.
It was now almost five-thirty, but the long match looked as if it was going to result in a big win for East Side Middle. They now led, 9–2, and had momentum going their way.
Keisha Morgan was serving. She was not normally a great server, but she had gotten into a groove, mixing crosscourt serves and lobs, keeping the Mustangs guessing and tentative. With her serving, the Sharks had scored nine points in a row.
But this time, Keisha’s serve was short. The hitter on the other side of the net leaped up to spike it right back. Laurie, seeing the empty spot on the court, dove under the ball and sent it back aloft.
Then Laurie hit the ground hard. She let out a cry of pain as the play went on. Jamie heard the cry and hesitated. But she knew Laurie would want her to keep the point going before helping her.
With Laurie down, the Sharks were a player short, and the Mustangs took full advantage, hitting the ball to spots where Laurie, slumped on the ground, was in the way of the other players. After a heroic effort on the part of the Sharks, the Mustangs won the point, and service went back to them.
Now everyone rushed to Laurie’s side. She was sitting up, holding her wrist. “I just landed on it funny,” she told the coach. “I’ll be okay. Really.”
“Never mind. You’re coming out,” Molly McKean said sternly. “Hicks, you’re in.” She lifted Laurie up and led her to the bench. “Let’s get some ice and a bandage over here right away,” she told one of the bench players.
The whistle blew, and play resumed. Jamie worked harder than ever now, and no points were scored for the next five minutes as the momentum shifted back and forth.
It was Jamie’s turn to serve now. She held the ball in her left palm and was about to hit it, when she saw the gym doors swing open and Michaela walk in.
Michaela saw Jamie staring at her and waved. Then she turned to find Jeff in the stands. He waved to her with a big grin on his face and indicated that she should come sit next to him.
“Come on, Jamie, let’s go!” Kim Park said. “What are you waiting for?”
Jamie frowned and hit the serve. Perhaps because she was distracted, the serve went off line and landed out of bounds. The crowd groaned. Jamie looked up to see Michaela and Jeff sitting together, talking a mile a minute. Good, she thought. Maybe they hadn’t seen.
But from that point on, Jamie began blowing shots left and right. She was continually one step too late, or caught off guard, or missing easy hits.
“Come on, team!” Molly McKean shouted. “What’s going on? Let’s get with it!”
Jamie blushed, knowing “team” meant her. She was messing up royally, and with everyone watching, including Jeff!
She cursed under her breath. Michaela was ruining her concentration!
Bam! The ball hit her hard, before she even saw it. It ricocheted away before she could react, and another point was scored for the Mustangs, who had now retaken the lead, 10–9.
“Bonner!” Coach McKean called out. “Sit down. Hernandez, you’re in.”
Jamie smashed the heels of her hands together in disgust as she headed for the bench. She couldn’t believe it—the game was on the line, and the coach was taking her out! It had never happened before, never come close to happening.
Jamie sat next to Laurie and shook her head in disbelief.
“I’m sorry,” Laurie said softly. “We were doing great till I tripped over myself like a klutz.”
“You made a great play,” Jamie assured her. “I’m the one who messed up.” She gave Laurie a hug just as the Mustangs scored yet another point. With Jamie and Laurie both out, the visiting team was pressing its advantage.
“Coach, put me back in!” Jamie begged.
Molly McKean frowned, then nodded. After the Mustangs won the next point, she reinserted Jamie into the game, this time in the front line.
The score was 14–12, Mustangs. Match point, and the visitors were serving. It was now or never for the Sharks, and Jamie geared herself for one final effort. The play began and turned into a long volley, with tremendous saves and hits on both sides. Jamie waited for the ball to come to her, ready with every fiber of her being.
Then her glance strayed, for one split second, to the stands. Michaela was sitting only inches away from Jeff. They were watching the game intently—and Michaela had her hand on Jeff’s!
“Spike it!” someone yelled.
Jamie looked up to see a tall Mustang hitter towering over the net. She tried to react, but the ball hit off her upturned palms and skittered out of bounds.
The match was over. The Sharks had lost.
And it was all her fault!
The disappointed Sharks stood on the court, dazed in defeat, as the Mustangs mobbed each other.
Laurie came up to Jamie, still holding her injured wrist. “Good try,
Jame,” she said weakly.
“Yeah, great. I messed up totally,” Jamie said, feeling the words catch in her throat.
“Nah,” Laurie said, throwing her good arm around her. “It was my stupid wrist. If I’d been in there, we would have pulled it out.”
“You okay?” Jamie asked.
“I think so,” Laurie said. “It hurts, but not too bad.”
They headed for the locker room. Jamie cast one last glance over her shoulder at the stands, but Michaela and Jeff were nowhere to be seen.
Jamie let her tears mingle with the water from the shower coursing down her cheeks. She’d cost the team a crucial victory, in front of the home crowd, with Jeff in the stands watching the whole thing.
And it was all Michaela’s fault!
9
When Jamie got home, she smelled something delicious emanating from the kitchen. It surprised her, because she distinctly remembered her dad saying he and Tracy had to work late tonight—some big meeting they were preparing for.
Had the meeting been canceled? She went into the kitchen to find out—and stood motionless at the door.
There, standing in front of the stove, tending to two simmering pots of food, was Michaela! Donna sat at the table, watching admiringly as her new stepsister cooked up whatever it was that smelled so good.
“Hi, Jamie!” Michaela greeted her cheerfully, as if nothing had happened.
“Hi,” Jamie said warily, then slowly approached the stove. “What are you doing?”
“She’s cooking, dummy,” Donna said with a giggle. “What’s it look like?”
Jamie gave her a poisonous look. “I can see that, thank you.”
“It’s jambalaya, with sautéed veggies,” Michaela explained. “I thought I’d surprise Mom and Dad when they come home.”
Mom and Dad? She’d called them “Mom and Dad”! So. Michaela now thought of Jamie’s father as her dad! Well, Jamie was never going to call Tracy “Mom.” Never in a million years.
“Too bad about the game,” Michaela said in a sympathetic tone that Jamie found really annoying. “But Jeff says you guys still might make the play-offs.”
“Yeah, well, whatever,” Jamie replied, not wanting to talk about either the game or Jeff.
“He was telling me all about the rules and stuff,” Michaela continued. “How the receivers have to hit it to the setters, and they hit it to the hitters. It’s more complicated than I thought.”
“Yeah. I told you it wasn’t easy to learn,” Jamie agreed. “Did you audition for the Drama Club?”
“Yeah! I got in, too!” Michaela said. “Mr. Fishman said I have a natural talent for acting.”
Jamie frowned. She had to agree on that one. Michaela had everyone thinking she was so nice, while all the time, inch by inch, she was taking over Jamie’s life.
Jamie knew that by cooking dinner for everyone, Michaela was just trying to outdo her. Jamie could not remember the last time she herself had cooked anything.
“Hey, how’s Laurie’s wrist?” Michaela asked.
“She thinks it’s okay,” Jamie told her.
“Oh, good. Jeff was worried about her.”
“Jeff likes Michaela!” Donna piped up in her most annoying tone.
“Oh, stop it, Donna,” Michaela said, blushing.
“Yeah, stop it,” Jamie agreed in a menacing voice.
“It’s true, and you know it,” Donna insisted, giving Michaela a mischievous look. “And you like him back.”
“I do not!” Michaela waved a spatula at Donna, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Now cut it out! You’re embarrassing me. Here. Come here and help me stir this.”
“Okay.” Obediently, Donna went to the stove and busied herself with the food.
Jamie’s eyes wandered around the room and came to rest on something she hadn’t noticed before—a yummy-looking cake with chocolate icing and multicolored roses. “Where’d you buy the cake?” she asked, going over to it.
“Michaela made that!” Donna blurted out. “And she showed me how to do the icing, too—I did the flowers all by myself!”
Jamie was stunned. “When did you find time to do all this stuff?” she asked Michaela.
“Oh, I started the cake last night, and the rest of the dishes I just sort of improvised from what I found in the freezer and the pantry.”
“Huh. Well.”
Jamie didn’t know what to say. She was floored, and she knew her dad and Tracy would be, too. Well, she guessed that was what came from having a mom when you were a kid. A mom who could teach you how to cook and sew and all that stuff. Michaela was lucky. Luckier than she was, anyhow.
“Okay, everything’s just about ready. Go set the table, okay?” Michaela asked Donna.
“Yes, sir!” Donna saluted and ran to get the cloth napkins and the good silverware.
“Well, I guess I’ll go do my homework,” Jamie said. “Looks like everything’s under control here without me.”
As she went into the living room and sat down on the couch to sift through her schoolbooks, Jamie felt her lower lip trembling. She bit down on it hard.
Dad and Tracy would be home any minute. She sure didn’t want to spoil everybody else’s party. Why shouldn’t they be happy? Just because she was miserable?
“Oh, Michaela, this is absolutely divine! You’ve outdone yourself!” Tracy raved, rolling her eyes in delight as she tasted the jambalaya.
“It was nothing,” Michaela protested modestly. “I had a good helper.” She indicated Donna, who blushed with pride and pleasure.
“I hope you’re taking notes, Donna,” Chuck Bonner said. “If you can learn to cook like this… Wow! Michaela, I had no idea you were so talented—and in so many areas, too! That’s really great about the Drama Club!”
“Thanks,” Michaela said, smiling. “I’m totally psyched about it.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Then Donna said, “Jamie’s team lost the big game.”
“Thanks a lot, Donna,” Jamie muttered quickly.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Tracy said.
“Too bad,” her dad said, shaking his head. “What happened? Did you guys have a bad day?”
“You might say that,” Jamie said, looking away. “Um, I’m not very hungry. May I be excused?”
“But you’ve hardly eaten anything!” her dad objected. “And it’s so delicious. Besides, Michaela worked so hard to make it.”
“I’ll eat it later, maybe,” Jamie said. “Now, can I please go upstairs? I’m not feeling too well.”
“Oh,” her dad said, giving her a long look. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“Would you like me to bring you up some tea or something?” Tracy asked.
“No, thanks,” Jamie said. “It’s nothing, really.” She got up quickly and left the dining room. One more second of Michaela’s triumph and her own disgrace and she would have burst into tears right there in front of everyone.
Jamie slowly climbed the stairs to her room and opened the door.
“What the—?!”
Jamie could not believe her eyes. Her room had been totally transformed. Instead of her posters, hanging on the walls were totally different ones—everything from movie stars to female athletes to rock bands.
Michaela! Somehow, in the time it had taken Jamie to get home from the game, Michaela had managed not only to get dinner cooking, but to steal Jamie’s room as well!
Jamie felt something snap inside. Suddenly, it was as though she were standing outside her own body.
She heard herself shouting, saw herself ripping down the posters and tossing them onto the floor, felt the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
By the time she heard the footsteps running up the stairs, the walls were bare, and the floor was littered with the torn remains of Michaela’s posters.
Michaela appeared in the doorway and let out a horrified scream. “Jamie!” she yelled. “Look what you did to my posters!” She flew at Jamie, her fist
s flailing, and the two girls went down in a heap on the bed.
Jamie curled up into a defensive posture, just trying to fend off Michaela’s assault. Michaela was still screaming and grabbing fistfuls of Jamie’s hair to pull.
Then Jamie kicked hard, knocking Michaela off her. Before she could recover, Jamie leaped on top of her and tried to pin her down.
“Hey! Hey! What’s going on here? Jamie, get off her! Stop it this instant!”
Jamie heard her father and Tracy shouting at them, but both girls resisted being pried apart. At last, the adults succeeded in separating them. They stood panting, staring at each other with murder in their eyes, as their parents held them back. Donna stood in the doorway looking frightened, her big eyes even wider than usual.
“She ripped down all my posters!” Michaela shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Jamie.
“You took all mine down first!” Jamie shot back. “Who told you you could do that without my permission?”
Jamie’s dad cleared his throat. “Um, actually, I did,” he said. “It’s my fault. I told Michaela she could put up some of her own posters if it would make her feel more at home.”
“In my room?” Jamie howled. “Didn’t it occur to you to ask me first?”
“I… I just thought it would be all right with you,” her dad said.
“Well, it isn’t! I don’t want her stuff in my room, and I don’t want her in here either!”
“Jamie!” Her dad looked horrified. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do!” Jamie shrieked. “I didn’t ask for her to come live here! When did I get to vote on it? Nobody even asked my opinion!”
Michaela let out a sob, and Tracy cradled her in her arms to comfort her.
Jamie broke free from her father and stared at him defiantly.
He stared right back at her, and his lips were tight with anger now. “Jamie, I’m surprised and disappointed in you. You can just stay up here for the rest of the evening and do without dessert. And while you’re at it, clean everything up. I expect you to replace all these posters out of your own money and apologize to Michaela for the horrible things you said.”
“She hates me,” Michaela whimpered into her mother’s shoulder. “Why does she hate me? What did I ever do to her?”
Spike It! Page 4
