by Kieran Scott
Once again, the beautiful Asian girl was at the forefront of their team, her long black hair hanging straight down her back and almost to her butt. She had to be the captain. Her eyes locked with Becca’s as she passed us by. For a moment, no one said a word. Then the Black Bears’ captain scoffed.
“Looks like they opened up the competition to white trash this year,” she said. My heart plummeted like a stone. Gia started to get up, but Becca grabbed her arm and pushed her back down as she rose herself.
“Excuse me,” Becca said loudly.
The girl and her squad stopped. She swung her hair over her shoulder and smiled as Becca approached.
“Yes?” she said.
Becca walked over to her with that confident model walk of hers, lifted her arms and shoved the girl right into the pool. The screech could have shattered glass. Limbs flailed everywhere. Her bag flipped over her head and landed on the big hunk of rock in the center of the pool. By the time the girl surfaced again, her hair plastered like a tangled web over her face, Becca had slapped her hands and returned to her seat.
I’d love to say that I was shocked. But that was Becca Richardson. She was the picture of mature sophistication—until someone insulted her.
All the Beavers applauded and cheered as Becca simply lifted her Elle magazine and sat back nonchalantly. The Black Bears fished their captain out of the pool and she dropped her saturated beach towel onto the concrete with a thwack. She stormed over to the end of Becca’s chair and this time Gia did stand up, squaring her shoulders like a bodyguard. Amazingly the girl didn’t even take note of her.
“You are going to regret that,” she told Becca.
“Do you mind? You’re blocking my sun,” Becca replied, turning a page.
The Black Bears’ captain narrowed her eyes menacingly before returning to her friends, all of whom gathered around her as they moved to the other end of the pool.
“Wow,” I said finally. “I guess we’ve had our first cat fight.”
“Really, Annisa,” Becca said, laying her magazine on her legs. “The term cat fight is just so tacky.”
I smiled. Becca was in rare form.
“Something wrong?” she asked, glancing past me at Mindy.
I turned around. Mindy’s skin was looking kind of waxy.
“Actually, I have to go,” she said, shoving her magazine into her bag. She shot me this betrayed sort of look as she stood up. “I’ll see you back at the room.”
I felt a little twist in my stomach when Mindy hurried away. She was a by-the-book kind of girl and I knew that she hadn’t liked what Becca had just done. I felt bad that she was so uncomfortable, but still, she didn’t have to look at me like I had done something. That was just Becca. I had seen her do worse, believe me.
“No offense, Annisa, but your new friend is a little uptight,” Becca said.
“Come on,” I said. “She’s cool.”
“Cool like the rest of your squad?” Gia asked, picking at a toenail. “They got some new definition of cool down here?”
I smirked. “They’re okay,” I said, knowing it would be kind of pointless to launch a debate.
“Please! Annisa, why are you defending them?” Jordan asked, sliding forward. She sat next to me and leaned toward the other girls. “You guys should have seen the way they treated her when she moved down here. They were like a bunch of cult psychos. But Annisa totally stood up to them,” she said, draping her arm over my shoulder and looking at me proudly. “She wanted to be on that squad, so she told them to shove it and did her thing.”
“Go on with your bad self,” Becca said a little snarkily.
“That’s not how it happened exactly,” I said, flushing.
“Yes it is!” Jordan said. “They were total bitches. You hated them. Severely.”
“They’re not that bad,” I told her. “A lot of them are my friends now.”
“Right,” Jordan said with a laugh and an eye roll. “I’ll bet.”
“They are,” I protested, feeling a little impatient.
Jordan’s face sort of fell and she stared at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Forget it.”
I wanted to press Jordan, but before I had the chance, Becca cut in. “Well, I’m surprised they even let you on the team, considering your hair color.”
“Are they really all blonde?” Gia asked.
“Yeah, they are. Well, some of them dye it, but yeah,” I said with a laugh. “It’s funny you say that, though, because they’re actually trying to get me to dye my hair for tomorrow.”
I tried to laugh it off like it was a big joke, but they all gaped at me like I’d just said my squad wanted me to grow a third nipple.
“What?” I said uncertainly.
“Tell me you’re kidding,” Becca said finally.
“No. They’re pretty serious about it,” I said, swallowing a lump in my throat.
“Some friends,” Gia said with a scoff. “Conform or die. Do they want you, or is any mindless blonde A-OK?”
The comment stung. Probably because it put into words a lot of the things I had been trying not to think about. All the things I was supposed to be “putting out of my mind.”
“You must really miss us,” Becca said, sighing.
She had no idea how much. At least that was how I felt at the moment.
“You’re not considering it, obviously,” Jordan said. “How could they ask you to do that?”
“Maybe they are a cult,” Gia put in, widening her eyes.
“Annisa, please tell me you’re not gonna dye your hair for them,” Jordan said. “Promise.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not,” I said, just wishing I had never brought it up in the first place. The gravity of their reactions made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Clearly no one on the Beavers would ever expect anyone else to change so drastically for them.
“It’s unbelievable. Why don’t you guys just get matching suits like the bitch brigade?” Becca said, glancing at the Black Bears.
“Or you could break out one of those stretching torture things from the Dark Ages so you could all be the same height,” Gia said with a chuckle.
Jordan and I laughed and I leaned back on my elbows. “We could all go for lipo and nose jobs together!” I said.
“And order all your clothes from Talbots,” Jordan added.
“And hit L.A. Tans for some matching skin tone.”
“What about colored contacts?!”
“Omigod, you guys,” I said, laughing. “You should have seen what it was like when I first got here. Remember my rhinestone clip? I may as well have been wearing acid-wash jeans.”
“What’s wrong with acid-wash jeans?” Gia demanded.
There was a brief pause and then everyone cracked up laughing. It was nice to kick back with my old squad—to be able to say whatever I wanted to say. These days Bethany seemed to be the only person I could do that with. Unless, of course, she had used something I said to freak Daniel out.
I nudged Jordan with my elbow. “There is so much I need to tell you,” I said under my breath.
She nodded. “We’re going inside in a little while. We’ll get some time alone then.”
I smiled and sat back to soak in the sun. I knew that once I got everything off my chest to Jordan, I would feel better. There was no problem that some QT with my bff couldn’t fix.
9
“So, you guys got any Starbucks down here?” Gia asked me as we walked through the back door of the hotel.
“We’re in Florida, not Mars,” I told her.
I pulled my black, Indian-inspired tunic cover-up over my head as the cold air-conditioning hit my fresh-outta-the-pool skin. Goose bumps popped up all over my arms and legs. Gia had hardly wrung out her hair and clutched a Belmar Beach Bum towel around her wet bod. She was dripping all over the marble floor. Lawsuit, anyone?
“Come on, G. Let’s go check out the gift shop,” Becca said, slipping he
r sunglasses onto the top of her head. She looked, of course, perfect. “I need some gum.”
“But I don’t have any pockets! Where’m I gonna stash the stuff?” Gia protested, following after her anyway.
Jordan stifled a laugh as the two older girls moved off, Becca floating along, Gia trudging in her wake. “I swear that girl is going to detox while we’re here,” Jordan said. “No smoking, no drinking, no shoplifting . . . ”
“Let’s just hope she doesn’t get the shakes in the middle of one of your stunts,” I joked.
We walked down the hall, flanked by the salon/spa and gym on one side and the gift shop on the other. Inside the salon a couple of women in CHEER MOM T-shirts flipped through In Touch magazine, waiting for their appointments. A pair of younger girls in matching outfits walked out of the gift shop, tearing into ice cream sandwiches. As Jordan and I entered the lobby by the elevators, I took a deep breath. I loved hotels. It always amazed me how they constantly smelled so clean and fresh when thousands of people traipsed through there every day. I loved how everything felt new and exotic and the fact that you got a brand-new soap every single day. If I hadn’t been due at lunch in half an hour, I would definitely have been exploring the rest of the resort.
“So, you want to hang out and talk until we have to—”
Suddenly I felt a swoop of surprise and my head and feet traded places. Not literally. I didn’t step in one of Gia’s puddles. But I did grab Jordan’s arm and stop dead in my tracks to keep from falling over.
“What? What’s wrong?” Jordan asked.
“Daniel,” I said. “And . . . Bethany.”
Okay. This was a hidden-camera moment. What the heck was Daniel Healy doing standing at the check-in desk of my hotel, looking so utterly yummy, you could serve him with whipped cream? Was he here to see me or Sage? Why had he called her last night? Why? And what was he doing with Bethany? And, hello, shouldn’t they both be in U.S. history right about now?
“Annisa, you haven’t breathed in about fifty seconds,” Jordan said.
I gasped in a breath and my lungs hurt.
“That’s Daniel?” she whispered, pulling me behind a potted palm tree before he could catch me gaping at him. “Damn, girl. He looks even hotter in person than he does in jpeg.”
“Tell me about it,” I replied.
“So, what’s the sitch? Why haven’t you thrown yourself into his arms yet?” Jordan asked.
“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about before,” I told her. “I—”
“Annisa! Hey! Get your butt over here!” Bethany shouted.
I shot Jordan a helpless look. “We’ve been made.”
On shaky knees, I emerged from behind the tree and met Bethany and Daniel at the check-in counter. Bethany’s newly dyed jet-black hair was parted down the center and had been worked into two small braids. She was wearing a black turtle-neck with red elbow patches and a pair of denim shorts over purple mesh stockings and black boots. Of course, as out of place as she looked among all the cheerleaders, it was Daniel I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
“Hey,” he said with a smile.
“Hey,” I replied. I wiped my hands on my shorts. “Uh, Daniel Healy, Bethany Goow, this is Jordan Trott.”
“Shuddup,” Bethany said, removing her dark sunglasses. “So you’re the Jersey me?”
“I think you’re the Florida me,” Jordan corrected.
“Huh. I thought you’d be pastier,” Bethany said.
“I thought you’d be more butch,” Jordan shot back.
Bethany snorted a laugh. “Hey, did you see all those motorcycles parked out front? I think there might be a gang here somewhere, lying low and getting ready to start a riot in protest of all the cheer.”
“You’re kidding,” Jordan said. “Harleys or Ducatis?”
“Ninjas.”
“Shut up!”
“Could be a good angle for a story, no?”
Suddenly Bethany and Jordan were gabbing like a pair of long-lost soul mates. I smiled as they moved toward the window so Bethany could point out the bikes. See? I knew they shared the same brain.
“So . . . um . . . can I talk to you?” Daniel asked me.
Oh. My. God. Was he going to break up with me? Had he actually driven all the way down here to shatter my heart and tell me he was going back to Sage?
“Sure,” I said somehow, wondering if he could hear my heart pounding.
He led me over to a pair of cushy chairs near the wall and sat down, placing his Sand Dune High duffel on the floor at his feet. I had no idea what he was about to say to me, I just hoped I didn’t barf up any important organs when he said it.
“I guess you’re kind of surprised to see me here,” he said.
“Kind of,” I replied.
“Well, I’ve been thinking. . . . Actually, Bethany kind of made me think that . . . well . . . ”
Oh, man. Here it comes.
“I’ve been kind of a wuss lately,” he said with a sigh.
“What?” A wuss?
“What am I saying?” Daniel said, shaking his head. “Look, what I mean is, I’m sick of being so lame and predictable, you know? Like Reliable Boy or something. I figured it was about time for me to do something crazy.”
“Like cutting school and coming down here?” I asked.
“Got it in one,” Daniel said.
“Go me.”
Sweet relief! He wasn’t breaking up with me! Can I get a yee-hah?
“Anyway, Bethany just sort of gave me the smack in the head I needed, I guess,” Daniel continued. “So I told her I was coming here and she was all, ‘I’ll meet you in the parking lot in ten minutes.’ Plus, she had the gas money, so . . . ”
“Here you are,” I said.
“Here I am,” he replied.
“She didn’t actually smack you in the head, did she?” I asked, biting my lip.
“No. Not in the physical sense,” he said with a laugh. “And you know, she freaked me out a little at first, but she’s actually pretty cool. Not half as deranged as I thought.”
“Huh. Go figure,” I said with a smile.
Daniel scooted forward in his seat and lifted one of my hands from the armrest of my chair. He laced his fingers through mine and ran his thumb along the heel of my hand. Swoon!
“So I was hoping I could take you out to dinner tonight,” he said. “Maybe, I don’t know, celebrate my transition from Reliable Boy to . . .”
“Rebel Boy?” I supplied.
“Yeah.”
I couldn’t believe it. He was here for me. He had cut class for me. Not for Sage, for little old me.
But still, I couldn’t get the image of that incoming call list out of my mind. This time I wasn’t going to let myself stew about it. I had to know.
“Daniel, did you call Sage last night?” I blurted.
“What? No,” Daniel said. “Why?”
What was I supposed to say? “I snooped into her call list and saw your number there?” Hardly. So instead, I gazed into his eyes and tried to read them. He really did look confused and surprised. I had to believe him. I wanted to believe him. So I did. I could figure out how his number had gotten on her caller ID later. I mean, maybe someone at his house had misdialed. It was always possible, right?
“Nothing. Forget I asked,” I said. Bethany and Jordan walked over, probably sensing it was safe now that Daniel was holding my hand. “Anyway, I’d love to go to dinner, but I can’t. I’m supposed to eat all my meals with the squad while I’m here.”
“Oh, please!” Jordan said, plopping down on the other armrest. “You can miss one dinner with the Blonde Gestapo. What’s going to happen?”
“Tara Timothy could murder me,” I replied.
“Your soul, maybe. But she would never actually kill you and risk getting all bloodstained,” Bethany said. “Unless she used pills. . . . ”
We all gaped at Bethany for a second. Then Jordan turned to me. “Seriously though, what are they going to d
o to you? Not let you compete? If you don’t, then none of them can.”
She kind of had a point. Tara and Coach could yell at me, but it wasn’t like either one of them was going to throw me off the squad. I hated getting yelled at, but Daniel had cut out of school to come down here and be with me. The least I could do in return was cut out of one meal. It wasn’t like I would be missing a practice. And besides, consequences weren’t always as bad as I imagined they would be. I had pre-panicked about a million times in my life and then nothing had happened. I always felt like an idiot for wasting all that time worrying. Maybe it was time for me to take a chance.
“You know what? You’re right,” I said. I grinned at Daniel and squeezed his hand. “Meet me at room 1022 at seven o’clock.”
“Cool,” Daniel said. He looked so pleased, it made my heart spin. “I guess I’ll go get checked in. Bobby, Christopher and Carlos are meeting me down here later. I should probably hide the room-service menu and anything that could be used as a funnel.”
“Good luck with that,” Bethany said, slapping him on the back as he stood. “Now get the hell out of here so we can have some girl time.”
Daniel looked at her dubiously.
“Dude, I am a girl,” she said, tucking her chin and putting her arms out.
“Whatever you say,” he joked.
We all watched him go and I knew that Jordan was checking out his butt. Who could blame her?
“So, how cool am I?” Bethany said once Daniel was out of earshot.
“The coolest!” I said, giving her a huge hug. “I cannot believe you got him down here. One day you’re going to have to tell me what you said.”
“Maybe you’ll read about it on sucks-to-be-us.com,” she replied.
“Um, please no,” I said with a laugh. “But seriously, thank you.”
I turned around, all grins, and saw Jordan hovering there, pretending to study the floral print on the chair. A pit of awkwardness opened inside of me and warmed my entire body. Had I just called Bethany the coolest right in front of Jordan? What was wrong with me?
“So, you guys want to show me around this place or what?” Bethany said, patting her laptop bag. “Now that I’m here, I think I’ll do a little exposé of my own.”
