by Zoe Evans
Mom came into the locker room a few minutes ago wearing a red, white, and blue tracksuit. Underneath, she’s wearing a T—shirt that said, “Wimps lift weights. Cheerleaders lift people.” OMG. I can tell she got her hair done while we were at school today. Her ponytail is even more perfect than usual. Her makeup is flawless. She looks like a college cheerleader dressing up as a mom. (Well, at least someone on our team will look perfectly cheertastic.)
“Hey, Coach Carolyn, nice outfit!” said Jacqui, smirking.
“Mom, what are you . . .”
“You like it?” She beamed, smoothing her palms against the creases on the front of the pants. “I got it special just for today! I thought it would really tie us together as a team. Now I match your uniforms!”
Oh, BTW, our uniforms came in this morning, and they are UH.MAY.ZING. The colors are perfect, and they fit each of us perfectly. I can’t believe that we actually pulled this off. I’m so proud to be premiering our brand—new look at a real game. I also can’t wait for Bevan to see how cute I look in a uniform that isn’t covered in sweat stains and moth holes or stretched out in all the wrong places. (That is, if he notices me, period.) Here’s what my masterpiece looks like:
I rolled my eyes and looked at Jacqui, who gave me a knowing look. At least Jacqui can see Mom has gone a little overboard. But I can also tell Mom is a little nervous. This will be the first time her coaching skills will be reflected for Port Angeles to witness.
“Now, ladies,” she said, looking at us überseriously. I half expected her to get down on her haunches like one of those TV coaches and start pulling out a chart with different moves that we should pull to fake out the other team. “You guys are going to do great today. I just know it! I can’t wait to see you out there. I’ll be cheering the loudest.”
“Actually, Coach,” said Jared, putting his arms around Katarina and Tabitha Sue. “We’ll be cheering the loudest!”
“Oh, Jared!” said Mom, surprised. “I didn’t realize you were in here!”
Ok, this is it—the moment we’ve been waiting for. . . . Please, o ye Gods of Cheer, let us not suck!
TIME TO PASS OUT, CASA DEL HAYS
It’s a miracle! The Grizzlies actually rocked the game tonight—and it feels incredible! We went onto the field and took our places on the first set of bleachers, bracing ourselves for some boos. Surprisingly, no one booed—or threw eggs or dog biscuits at us! (That’s a victory in itself!) We all looked at each other with relief and waited for the boys’ soccer team to run onto the field. I couldn’t wait to see Bevan in his cute little shorts and cleats (and socks ).
As soon as both the teams entered the field, we jumped up and did our “Get Started” cheer.
The girls shouted, “Are you ready to get started?” two times and the boys responded, “Yes we are! Yes we are!” and then together we all shouted, “I said S, S-T, S-T-A-R-T! Start!” And we jumped up and down like maniacs shaking our pom-poms. Katarina did some backflips across our cheer line. The crowd applauded, and then we sat back down.
We were psyched. . . . It was a strong beginning to the game. We felt like cheerleaders for realzzz!
By halftime our team was winning, and we were gearing up to do a halftime performance. I was so nervous, I felt like I was going to throw up. I looked up at the bleachers and saw Lanie and Evan each giving me thumbs—up and smiling.
“All right, guys, you ready?”
“Go, Grizzlies!” said Mom.
We ran out to the middle of the field and assumed our formations. I tried not to think about the fact that Bevan was watching, or I knew I’d trip up. Jacqui led the routine, and T.G. we put Tabitha Sue in the back, because she was up to her old tricks of dancing to the beat of her own drum. Luckily, no one seemed to notice, because people applauded throughout our whole performance. Ian and Matt tried the toe touch we’d been practicing for the past two weeks, instead of opting for the easier jump Jacqui had taught them as an alternative. For the finale, Matt and I lifted Jacqui into a beautiful pyramid, where she posed in her trademark scorpion. Everyone hooted, and some people yelled out, “Go, Jacqui!” which made me feel really good for her. Ever since the incident with the Titans, everyone’s been gossiping about her.
Our team won, which made the night even more amazing. And afterward, everyone came up to tell us how cool our uniforms looked. I tried to look for Bevan, but he’d already disappeared into the crowd of his grass—stained and sweaty teammates.
Mom was in hypercheer mode, so she took the whole team out for dinner at Steak & Fries—a typical postgame hangout. I kind of wouldn’t have minded celebrating our first real game without her around, which I know is totally cruel, since she’s part of the reason we were so successful tonight. It’s just, once in a while I’d like to be a normal kid who gets to hang out with her teammates without Mother Dearest breathing down my neck. But since she was treating the team, and since she is our coach, I couldn’t really tell her to go home. It also was a superspecial occasion for her to be giving the team permission to pig out .
Within two seconds of entering Steak & Fries, you feel like you’re coated in an inch of grease. I noted that our brand—new uniforms will definitely need a solid wash to get the smell of fries and hamburgers out of them. Too bad. The colors are just so perfect before the first washing. I saw a couple of BFFs of the Titans in the booth right behind us chowing down on grilled cheese sandwiches and salads. They paused to give our team a once—over as we walked by.
“I’m so proud of you guys!” Mom said as we all slid into an extralarge booth in the back. “And, Madison, those uniforms are the talk of the town.”
Jacqui sat across from me, and Lanie and Evan sat on either side of me. They’re considered honorary “spirit members” because they’re the reason we were able to afford the new uniforms. Secretly, I hoped that this would be a good opportunity for them to get to know Jacqui a little better.
“You guys really were great today,” said Lanie, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser. “Jacqui, that last thing you did at the end rocked.”
“Yeah, that was awesome,” said Evan, looking up from the oversize menu.
The waitress came over to take our order, and to our surprise, Mom ordered nachos with the works, chicken fingers, and fries three ways (a Steak & Fries specialty) for the table. In my life, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mom eat a nacho. She must have really been feeling good about tonight.
“Hey, Madison,” said Ian from across the table. “I have to hand it to you. I don’t feel like a sissy in this uniform at all. Even my boys from football liked it. You might have to redesign their uniforms, too.”
“Wow, thanks Ian. That means a lot,” I said, beaming with pride.
At one point I could have sworn I overheard the girls behind me saying something about me. It was hard to discern exactly what they were saying, because the restaurant was so loud and my teammates were talking to me. And I admit, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. (But let’s not forget my previously stated rule on this topic: See entry from September 14.) The thing is, when it comes to anything Titan related, I’m a little weak. One girl behind me said something about “Madison,” and then “really great,” and another said, “I know!” And then, just when I was about to have heart palpitations, I actually heard the other one say, “Katie’s gonna freak!” I practically fell out of my seat! I wanted to crawl under the table and sidle up to them and be like, “Hey, guys! Whatcha talking ’bout? What’s Katie gonna freak about? Huh? Huh?”
And then, just when there was a nice little lull in the conversation at our own table that would have made it a teeny bit easier for me to hear what the girls behind me were saying, a deep voice said, “’Sup, chicas?” I turned and saw my eavesdropping opportunity was over. A crowd of jocks had rushed into the restaurant, and three of them were circling the table behind us, eyeing the two Titan BFFs like, um, steak.
“Mads? Where did your head just go?” asked Lanie.
I noticed th
at Jacqui, Evan, and Lanie were all looking at me.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “You know me. Zoning out as usual!” I said with an apologetic shrug. I didn’t want to admit to my friends that my ego had gotten the better of me and I’d been dying to hear what these girls were saying about me. Especially since it related back to Katie Parker . . .
Jacqui turned to Lanie, her chin in her palm. “She does that a lot, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I worry that she might never come back,” Lanie said, smiling back at Jacqui.
“Uh, guys? I’m right here. I can hear you.”
“Oh, you mean right now you can hear us? Well, it’s about time!” said Evan.
The coolest part about the dinner is that now my three friends are actually kind of getting along. Coolio.
But Mom and I aren’t doing so well in the getting—along department. After dinner, she was floating on a cloud and singing the chants we’d done that afternoon while she checked her e-mail. And she was still wearing that RIDONCULOUS track suit. I don’t know why, but it annoyed me so much, I wanted to scream.
“Hey, Mom?” I asked, sitting down on one of our rickety wooden kitchen chairs. “Now that we’re home, do you think you can lose the tracksuit?”
“You don’t like it? It’s supposed to be the coach version of your uniform designs. Guess I’ll leave the fashion stuff up to you from now on.” She smiled.
“I don’t know,” I said, frustration mounting inside me. “The tracksuit is fine, I guess. It’s just that . . . do you have to be, like, so out there?” I asked.
“Out there? I’m just showing my support for the team,” she said. “Oh, by the way, I was thinking. Next time, when you’re doing the ‘Victory’ chant, I think we should switch things up a little-”
“Mom, do you think, like, maybe for two seconds we could not talk about cheer? Like a normal kid and her normal mom?”
“But I thought you’d be excited about tonight, hon. I’d assumed you’d want to replay it all together.”
“I am excited,” I said. “I’m just really tired. And kind of cheered out for the day, you know?”
“All right,” she said, looking at me. “Mads, why don’t you go upstairs and retire. It’s been a long day.”
I can tell she’s hurt, but I don’t have the energy to turn this one around. It definitely has been a really LONG day. So I trudged up the stairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, still in my uniform. I wish I wasn’t so annoyed at Mom all the time, but it just seems like lately, at every opportunity, she does something that really gets to me. I def don’t like this feeling.
I guess I expected people to come up and congratulate us on how great we were last night, but the truth is, it’s not like we were better than the Titans even on their worst day. I should just be happy that no one made fun of us or drew pictures of bears in cheerleading outfits on the chalkboards like they’ve done in years past. But a part of me would like a little bit of appreciation, thankuverymuch. We’ve come a long way with all the hard work that Jacqui and I and, Ok, Mom have put into the team. Jared now restrains himself from wearing a top hat to practice (most of the time), Tabitha Sue has been meeting with Mom one-on-one to work on her chanting voice to make sure it doesn’t squeak so much, and even the T—twins have started to appreciate the new kinds of muscles they’ve been building by supporting me and Jacqui as flyers. “This is better than weightlifting,” Matt even said the other day.
Our humble victory (if you can even call it that) was kind of overshadowed by the Titan cheerleaders’ big win at the cheerleading competition the night before and, of course, the actual soccer match. The soccer boys were crowded around the cheerleaders’ table at lunch, flirting and throwing fries at them. I could hear giggles and cries of “Eww!” from across the lunch room and convinced myself I wasn’t jealous at all that Bevan was part of that circle. Nope, not even one iota. (Yeahhhh, riiiight.) I am happy to note that even though Bevan was at the cheerleading table, he looked pretty bored. (But, just to be clear, it’s not like I’m stalking him or anything like that.)
At the end of lunch, Clementine sauntered up to our table. She took this big ol’ dramatic pause to make sure that we were all paying attention to her, and cleared her throat loudly. Evan, Lanie, and I looked up in surprise—like you do when a bride walks down the aisle or royalty enters the room. (Not that we have that in this country, but you get the drift.) Evan actually had a fry dangling out of his mouth. A Titan has never come up to our lunch table. Not in the entire history of, like, lunch. I guess I should start getting used to Titans surprising me all over the place now. It’s starting to become, like, a regular thing.
“Madison,” she said, looking at me with a mild level of disgust, “the Titans have something they’d like to discuss with you.” She raised her eyebrow at the word “discuss.” Taking in another deep breath, she continued. “Come by our side of the gym before practice.” Before even waiting for a response, she did a kind of runway turn, fluffed her hair, and sauntered back to her table. A number of kids at nearby lunch tables looked on as if they were witnessing the eighth wonder of the world.
“Do you think she practices that eyebrow lift at home, kind of like an exercise routine?” said Lanie, spinning a carrot stick into a tub of hummus. “And lift and down and lift and down,” said Lanie, lifting her eyebrow in time with her words.
Evan and I just laughed.
“It’s so weird,” I said. “Suddenly I’m, like, the Grizzly spokesperson. This is the second time a Titan has come up to me to ask me for a favor.”
“Well,” said Lanie, “if you need any, I can give you a couple of bullet points for your discussion with the Titans. For example, Clementine’s choice of male company. Have you noticed all her ex—boyfriends are in remedial math and have names like Chet or Brock?”
“No, Lanie. Actually, I hadn’t.” I laughed. “But I don’t think the Titans will be asking me for advice on Clementine’s taste in boyfriends.”
All of a sudden the conversation I’d overheard at the Titan BFF booth at Steak & Fries came back to me. Those girls said something about “Madison” being “really great” and how “Katie’s gonna freak.” Just then it hit me.
My heart started beating fast. “Oh. My. God. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!!! What if they want to talk to me about becoming a Titan?”
Lanie and Evan looked at each other and then at me, wide-eyed.
“There were these girls sitting behind us last night at Steak & Fries who are, like, Titan besties. I’m almost poz that I heard them talking about me. They probably saw the game last night and told the Titans what they saw in me . . . and maybe Katie, Hilary, and Clementine are finally giving me another chance!!!”
I felt like I was going to explode with happiness.
“Careful, daydreamer,” said Evan, pointing a fry at me. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You never-”
“Wow. I, Madison Hays, might at the end of this very day become a Port Angeles Titan cheerleader!”
I can totally see it this time, and for once it doesn’t seem that far-fetched. It will be hard at first, sure. We’ll have a rough first few weeks as Katie, Clementine, and Hilary teach me the famously brutal Titan warm-up. I’ll stay as late as possible to catch up on whatever they’ve been learning, but I know I can do it. Through our late—night practices, I’ll learn that Clementine isn’t really as mean and nasty as people think she is. She’ll probably confide in me that she’d just had a really bad experience at cheer camp when she was a kid, and ever since then she’s had to build up this big wall. I’ll pat her on the back and tell her I understand completely but that she can totally be herself around me because I know the pressure that she’s under and how sometimes it gets to be too much. Boy do I know.
I can’t concentrate on anything the rest of the day. I couldn’t wait to talk to the Titans. Everything I see starts looking like a cheerleader. In math class I was watching Mr. Hobart at the chalkboard when he started to morph i
nto a cheerleader with our white, red, and blue uniform. Next thing I knew, the blackboard became a game scoreboard and the scalene triangle Mr. Hobart was drawing became a megaphone. When he called on me to answer a question about perpendicular diagonals, I nearly answered in a chant. (But I have to say, I was pretty proud of myself for knowing the answer, since I could barely even concentrate on class. I had finally resolved to catch up on all my studying this past weekend. Give me a G-O, M-E!)
NIGHTTIME, MY BED
After school, I changed into my practice clothes and brought my pom—poms with me, just in case the Titans wanted me to do any on-the-spot demonstrations of my cheers.
But right as I was entering the locker—room area, Bevan and I nearly collided (again!) on his way to the weight room. He was wearing a fitted T—shirt that showed off those shoulders. I’ve been sketching pictures of him in my journal since our first collision. I’m doing a riff on Monet’s Haystacks, but with Bevan’s shoulders as the subject, at different times of day and in different light.
“Hey,” he said, hanging onto the side of the concrete gym wall and swinging his body lazily through the entryway. “You guys were good yesterday.”
I was so stunned that he was actually talking to moi that my “Oh, thanks!” (which was supposed to sound all smooth and confident) fell somewhere between a squeak and a burp. The last time he’d addressed me was during our first meeting on the sports field. (I refuse to count the time he sort of looked at me when I was in the car with Mom and she pointed at him, since I’m still pretending that never happened.) I’d been waiting for this moment for, like, ever, and now it was taking me completely by surprise.
A slow smile crept onto his face, revealing his adorable dimples, as he waited for me to say something.
“Anyway,” he said, looking at me for a few seconds more. I just stared right back at him like a mute because I couldn’t think of a witty follow—up to continue this conversation. Actually I couldn’t think of ANY follow-up, witty or not.
