by Kieran Scott
The caller ID read, DANIEL HOME.
Last night, at exactly 8:04 P.M., approximately the time Whitney and Phoebe had left on the M&M run, Sage had received a call from Daniel Healy.
6
I was going to kill her. No, I was going to kill him. No, I was going to kill them both!
Daniel Home.
Daniel Home.
Daniel Home.
I couldn’t stop staring at it. If I stopped staring at it, I was going to fling it out the window.
Okay, I had to breathe.
I wasn’t really going to kill anyone. Not really. But you can understand that my brain wasn’t exactly functioning properly at that moment. Daniel had called Sage. Daniel had called Sage. Here I had been waiting for a call or a text or a freakin’ smoke signal from him all night and day and he was calling Sage and making her go all squealy.
The bus driver pressed the brakes as we hit some traffic and my stomach lurched dangerously. I reached up, opened the latches on the tinted bus window and used my shoulder to shove it open. Then I dropped back into my seat and leaned toward the aisle.
“Mindy!” I loud-whispered, gasping for air.
She glanced over at me and, not surprisingly, appeared rather concerned when she saw my face. Sage was still engaged in her oratory about her love for Quddus and she didn’t even bat any of her ridiculously long eyelashes as Mindy broke away and settled in next to me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You look like you just swallowed a bug.”
“Thanks for that visual,” I said, grimacing. “Look at this.”
I showed her the evidence and it took a moment for the significance to register. When it did, her face turned to granite.
“Daniel?” she said.
“Tell me there is a logical explanation,” I replied.
Mindy stared at the seat back in front of her for a moment. “Okay! Okay! He could have called her for any reason,” she said, suddenly animated. “Maybe he just wanted to wish her luck on the competition.”
That idea was like a baseball bat to the gut. After all, a good-luck call was all I had been looking for and I still hadn’t gotten one. But I supposed that a quick break-a-leg call to his ex for old-times’ sake was better than him calling to profess his undying love.
“Or . . . or maybe he called about homework,” Mindy spit-balled. “Or! Maybe he found something of hers that he’s had since their breakup and wants to give it back!”
She looked particularly proud of that idea. And I have to admit, it was a pretty tempting scenario.
“But she was so giddy when she came back into the room last night,” I reminded Mindy. “She wouldn’t have been giddy if he had told her he wanted to give back her Miss Con-geniality DVD.”
“True. But maybe she called somebody back after she talked to Daniel and that’s what made her giddy!” Mindy said triumphantly. “Here. Let’s see.”
She took the phone out of my hand and hit a few buttons. She must have really wanted to clear Daniel and make me feel better. Invading someone’s privacy was not a Mindy type of thing to do. Actually, it wasn’t usually an Annisa type of thing to do, and you best believe I was already regretting it. Stupid shoulder devil.
“Darn. Her outgoing call list is empty,” Mindy whispered. “She must have erased it.”
“I can’t believe she’s talking to Daniel, whatever they’re talking about,” I said quietly. “He hasn’t called me, but he’s called her.”
“Okay, look,” Mindy said, handing back the phone and turning in her seat. Her blue eyes were earnest as she looked me in the eye and grabbed my wrists. “This doesn’t mean anything. Daniel really likes you, okay? It’s totally obvious to the world.”
“Really?” I asked.
“He walks you to school every single day,” she said. “He waits for you outside of class. He even arm-wrestled Carlos for the last chocolate cupcake at lunch that day to cheer you up after your math test.”
I smiled. There really was some solid evidence in my favor here. Suddenly I was very glad that it was Mindy on this trip with me and not Bethany. Bethany would have taken one look at the cell phone, gotten up and hung Sage out the bus window by her ankles. Or possibly just shouted at her until she cried. Either way, Mindy’s pep talk was a lot more productive. Of course, Jordan would have been my first choice, but she was probably in biology class right about now. I don’t know what I had been thinking trying her cell phone on a school day, but maybe she would call me back at lunch. I hoped.
“We’re about five minutes away from nationals,” Mindy said, glancing out the window at the heavy traffic. “You have to give Sage the benefit of the doubt. For the team.”
I took a deep breath. Mindy was right. I had to shelve all these negative thoughts or I was going to be putting the poop in party pooper.
“Hello? Could you quit bogarting my phone already?” Sage said, coming up the aisle toward us. “I’m waiting for a call.”
I’ll bet you are, I thought.
I handed her the phone without a word and turned to look out the window in an effort to hide my sour expression. The bus was just pulling into the parking lot of the Regency Palm Hotel and Convention Center where nationals were being held. The place was total mayhem. I had to get a grip so that I wouldn’t let the squad down. This was, after all, the biggest event of our lives.
Of course, if we’re being fair here, Sage was the one who was really letting me down, right? I mean, taking secret calls from my maybe-boyfriend? And how about all those squad mates who wanted me to dye my hair? Why did it sometimes seem like I was the only one making sacrifices around here?
“You okay?” Mindy asked.
The air brakes squealed and everyone popped up from their seats in excitement. Somewhere outside the window a squad was chanting, “S-P-I-R-I-T! We’ve got the spirit! Let’s hear it!”
I forced a smile. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Okay, whoa,” Jaimee said as she stepped off the bus.
“I’ll second that exclamation,” I said, dropping to the ground next to her.
Gradually the entire squad lined up next to the bus and took it all in. The cars and buses decked out in spray paint and streamers. The squads in full uniform stunting in the middle of the parking lot. The screaming group of girls in red and blue colliding with another group in brown and orange, everyone hugging and kissing and screeching with uninhibited delight at their reunion. Horns honked. Some lady on a bullhorn tried to instill order. A raccoon mascot raced by us and executed a cartwheel before raising his fists in triumph and tearing off.
“Toto, we’re definitely not in Sand Dune anymore,” Chandra said.
“All right, girls. Let’s stop gaping,” Tara said, clapping her hands together. “We don’t want to look like a bunch of tourists who don’t belong, do we?”
A troop of younger girls, undoubtedly from the junior division, trailed by us, holding hands to make a chain. They all had glittery orange and purple stars stuck just under their bottom lashes and their ponytails all looked like they were the exact same length with the exact same curl. Though, I was quick to note, they were a multitude of colors.
“Peppy Ponys,” Whitney said.
“Huh?” I asked.
“They’re a leader in fake cheer hair,” Whitney replied.
“See? I’m not the only one who wants to look uniform,” Tara said as we all started to unload our bags.
“At least a Peppy Pony isn’t permanent,” I replied.
“Say that three times fast,” Erin joked.
“Look,” Tara began. “All I’m trying to do is—”
“Omigosh, you guys!” Mindy whispered. “Isn’t that . . . ?”
We all turned around to find a crowd of girls walking up the hotel’s front pathway toward the automatic sliding doors. They were dressed in black shorts and red hoodies, their hair pulled back with perfect red ribbons. Each of them toted a matching black-and-red duffel bag with a p
aw print on the side and their names embroidered beneath the emblem. Their chins were held high as they walked, talking in hushed tones as they surveyed the other squads. They carried themselves like total veterans.
I instantly wanted to take them down. Hard.
“The Black Bears,” Tara said through her teeth.
The drop-dead-gorgeous Asian girl at the front of the squad glanced our way as they floated by. Her dark eyes flicked up and down over our group and she gave us a little half smile that dripped with condescension. Steven snapped her picture.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. “They’re the enemy!”
“Hey! It’s not a story if I don’t get all sides,” he said.
“Come on, girls,” Coach Holmes said, knocking us out of our daze. “Let’s get checked in.”
We were sluggish as we hefted our bags and headed for the hotel. Just like that, the Black Bears had taken some of the wind out of our sails. But I couldn’t help it. I had never seen that many pairs of such muscular legs in one place in my life! And they just oozed confidence. Like they already had the trophy in their hands.
“Now I’m depressed,” Phoebe said, popping open a Red Bull as we walked.
“Tell me about it,” Erin added.
Chandra took out a Kit Kat and crunched into it.
I wanted to add my laments, but something inside of me paused. This was no time for self-pity. We were at a national cheerleading competition. And we deserved to be here just as much as anyone else. Besides, if I didn’t start reclaiming my positive attitude soon, there was no telling if it would ever come back. I was getting sick of feeling so negative.
“Come on, you guys!” I said, skipping up to the front of the line. “We beat some of the best teams in Florida to get here! We beat the West Wind Dolphins!”
They gave me a few half-hearted yeahs.
I rolled my eyes. “What kind of spirit is that? Chandra! Where are the lungs of steel?”
Chandra crumpled her Kit Kat wrapper. “Yeah!” she shouted, getting into it. “We’re the Mighty Fighting Sand Dune Crabs! Let’s hear it! SDH! SDH! SDH!”
Gradually everyone joined her and Coach Holmes laughed. Now this was more like it. Maybe if I could just forget about Sage’s existence entirely, this trip could be kind of fun!
“Annisa! Hey! Neece!”
Somewhere, through all the cheering, I heard someone shouting my name. Confused, I turned around and scanned the crowd of girls coming in behind us. Nothing. I looked down the line of buses and vans waiting to unload. Nothing. Was I hearing things now?
“Over here, you reject!”
Wait a minute . . .
“Jordan?” I cried, spinning around.
And there she was, stepping out of an airport shuttle, grinning from ear to ear. Her familiar curly brown hair stuck out at every angle and a pair of huge hoops dangled from her ears. It was really her. Jordan was here! The very person I was aching to talk to with every fiber of my being. She was really here!
8
“Okay, so what you need to do is just put it out of your mind,” Mindy said.
“Put it out of my mind,” I repeated. Put the vision of Bethany talking to Daniel out of mind. Along with Daniel calling Sage. Sage getting all giddy over said call. Oh, and Tara dyeing my hair while I sleep. “It feels like I’m trying to put a lot out of my mind lately.”
“I know, but it’s just a couple of days,” Mindy said. “Then things can go back to normal.”
She slipped her sunglasses on as we stepped out of the elevator and headed through the back door of the hotel. I had called Jordan, who had told us the whole Beaver squad was already on their way to the pool, so we were meeting her there.
“Or abnormal, depending on how you look at it,” I said with a smile.
“Exactly,” she replied.
“So, okay, change of subject.” I said, determined. “I like your suit.” She was wearing one of those red, white and blue Tommy Hilfiger bikinis and looking quite the All-American Girl. I was just wearing my standard black two-piece.
“Yours too,” she said. “Are you sure you used enough sunscreen?”
“Yes, don’t worry,” I said, patting my mesh bag full of Neutrogena sunblock, SPF 45. “I will not have a random burn pattern for nationals. Just imagine what that would do to Tara’s blood pressure. Ever see one of those cartoons where the cat drinks some hot sauce and his head blows off like a volcano?”
“That’s about right,” Mindy said with a laugh. “Oh, hey. There are your friends.”
We wound our way down the path to the pool, which was centered by a huge rock structure full of waterfalls and caves and a slide. The whole area overlooked the beach and the ocean, where a posse of surfers were taking on the mediocre waves. A few squads had already set up camp at various spots around the pool, including Jordan and the rest of the Beavers, almost all of whom were wearing black suits as well. Everyone was checking out everyone else, trying to size up the competition. I wondered how long it would be before a cat fight broke out.
“Jordan!” I called out, waving.
She leaned to the side, squinting in my direction, and waved back. That was when I saw that Gia, Becca and Maria Rinaldi were all gathered around Steven Schwinn’s tape recorder, gabbing away. Steven sat in the center of the group, wearing a pair of Hawaiian-print trunks, listening with rapt attention. His hair was slicked back as if he had just gotten out of the pool and he had a towel draped across his lap.
“Huh. Steven Schwinn’s actually pretty cute in a bathing suit,” Mindy said.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I replied, even though I had. How could you not? I mean, those lean muscles were right there. I walked over to him and dropped my bag. “Uh . . . what are you doing?”
“Hey, Annisa,” he said. “Or should I call you Goober?” he added in a teasing way.
“Um, I wouldn’t,” Jordan said.
“Are you doing a story about the squad or just about me?” I asked. “Because to be honest, you’re starting to get a little stalkeresque.”
“Just trying to get the whole picture,” Steven said, gathering up his things. “I was just on my way to find Tara Timothy.”
“Try the gym,” Mindy suggested.
“And tell her I said hey,” I added with blatant sarcasm. I watched him scurry off and blew out a sigh. “That guy is starting to freak me out a little bit. I mean, he’s nice and everything, but he’s everywhere. Does he have a twin I don’t know about?” I asked Mindy.
“Apparently he’s just good at his job,” Mindy said with a shrug. “Don’t worry. After the competition we won’t have to deal with him anymore.”
“Hallelujah,” I said.
It seemed like everything was going to settle “after the competition.” Had I entered an alternate universe or something? Did nationals exist outside the realms of regular time and space? At this point I was wishing I could just fast-forward to Monday.
“Everyone, this is Mindy,” I said. “Mindy, this is everyone.”
“Hi,” Mindy said, raising a hand.
“Hi,” the Beavers chorused.
“Is that Elmo on a motorcycle?” Mindy asked, squinting at Gia’s ankle tattoo.
“Yeah. What of it?” Gia shot back.
“Nothing! It’s really cute!” Mindy said.
Then she quickly dropped onto a lounge chair and pulled out her Shape magazine. I should have warned Mindy that everything out of Gia’s mouth sounds belligerent. Well, actually, most of it is.
“So, what’s going on, Goober?” Gia asked. “How’s life in the sun?”
“Pretty good,” I replied, sitting down sideways on the end of Jordan’s chair. She moved her legs to the side to give me more room. “There was a slight period of adjustment, but all is well.”
“Try a major period,” Jordan added, pulling her unruly hair back in a ponytail.
“Okay, yeah, but everything’s cool.” Even as I said it, I realized it sounded and felt false. If everything w
ere cool, there wouldn’t be a box of Herbal Essences waiting for me back in my room. I wouldn’t be jealous of Sage anymore and I wouldn’t be getting cryptic phone calls from Bethany Goow. “I still can’t believe you guys are here.”
“Neither can we,” Becca said, tipping her face toward the sun. “I could get used to this.” I just hoped they were wearing sunscreen. Each of the Beavers was pastier than the last.
“And wait till you see our routine,” Jordan put in. “You’re gonna die.”
“I can’t wait! You should see this new basket toss we perfected the other day,” I told them. “I do a double full in the air. I didn’t even think that was possible.”
Gia whistled, impressed.
“Cool,” Jordan said.
“And then there’s this sort of square-dancey, hip-hoppy dance sequence—”
“Um, Annisa?” Mindy said from behind me.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“It’s just . . . maybe you guys shouldn’t be talking about the routines, you know?” Mindy said, looking pained. “Before the competition, I mean.”
I laughed. “It’s not a problem. We can trust these guys.”
“Yeah, Blondie, chill,” Gia snapped. “Go back to your Teen Priss magazine.”
Mindy buried her face in her magazine and I turned to Gia. “You don’t have to be mean,” I said.
“Sorry,” Gia said sarcastically, raising her hands in mock surrender.
Suddenly I felt really hot and really uncomfortable. I wanted to say more, but just that one admonishment had taken a lot of effort. I mean, this was Gia Kistrakis. The girl shoplifted from the Northwood Krauser’s right in front of the owner’s face every other day and he didn’t do anything about it. She was scary.
“Check it out,” Becca said, lifting her chin.
The Black Bears squad had entered the pool area and were slowly sashaying their way in our direction. They all wore black, red, or black-and-red bathing suits and had matching Mecatur High beach towels. Talk about uniformity. This was taking bonding to a whole new level. Every other squad by the pool had shushed their conversation and watched the Black Bears with awe. They were real celebrities around here.
