by Kieran Scott
Autumn, Chandra and I sat on a bench near the wall while the rest of our squad stood in front of us, mingling, trying to talk about anything but what we were about to do. We had drawn a late number, so there were ten squads up before us. It was a good idea to try to get our minds off things in the meantime. Autumn and Chandra were two of the very few squad members who hadn’t frozen me out and I was happy that I still had someone to talk to.
Surprisingly, Mindy was still talking to me, but only when necessary. She was the only person whose actions I truly understood. I still couldn’t believe I had snapped at her the way I had. Sooner or later I was going to have to apologize. I just hadn’t had a chance to get her alone yet. That was the problem with being on a squad of sixteen.
“How much longer do you think it’ll be?” I asked.
Autumn looked at the clock on the opposite wall. “At least another half hour.”
“I have to pee!” some girl squealed to her friend, rushing by us.
“You can’t pee now! We’re up next!” the friend shouted.
“If I don’t pee now, I’m gonna pee on your head!” the first girl shouted back.
Chandra and I looked at each other and cracked up laughing. Autumn squirmed. “Oh, Goddess. Now I have to pee.” She jumped up and ran for the bathroom.
“Wow. I never thought I would be this intimately aware of my friends’ bodily functions,” I joked, taking a slug of water.
“We all get our period at the same time too, you know,” Chandra replied, her heels bouncing up and down under her chair. “Have you noticed?”
“Um, no,” I said. “But now I’m sure I will.”
“Up next, the Marshall High School Cowgirls!” the backstage coordinator shouted, temporarily silencing the room. Talk about power. “On deck, the Northwood High School Beavers!”
My heart skipped a nervous beat and I saw the Beavers all exchange excited glances.
“I’ll be back,” I told Chandra.
“Going to give your little friends some last-minute advice?” Sage called after me. A few of my squad mates snickered. My shoulder muscles coiled, but I managed to ignore them.
The Beavers were making their way toward the wings and I joined them. Jordan grinned when she found me by her side. She was clutching her lucky Derek Jeter pen in both hands. Jordan was a huge Jeter fan and a couple of summers ago she had basically accosted him outside Yankee Stadium and gotten him to sign a baseball for her. This was the pen he had used. It had brought us both luck ever since.
“Is this actually happening?” Jordan asked.
“Yep. But don’t worry. You guys look great,” I said.
“Yeah. We clean up good,” Gia said.
And they did. Their competition uniforms were a deep red with white and gold stripes crisscrossing the top and the word BEAVERS spelled across the chest. The skirts were super straight with matching stripes running down the side. They all had their hair pulled back in perfect French braids. There wasn’t an ounce of gold jewelry or glittered nail polish in sight. I had never seen my old squad looking so crisp and - clean-cut.
“Can you believe how many people are out there?” Jordan asked. “What is this, the World Series?”
“May as well be,” I said.
“Great. I’m not nervous enough,” Jordan said with a smile.
“You’re gonna do awesome,” I told her. “Just get out there and kick a little ass.”
The crowd went nuts for the Marshall High team and a guy with a headset stuck his face around the red curtain. “All right, Beavers. You’re up in thirty seconds.”
“Omigod,” Jordan said. She looked like she was about to throw up.
“Uh . . . better let me take that,” I said, going for the pen. I had to pry it out of her cold-as-ice hands.
“Right,” she said with a laugh. “Can’t cheer with that.”
“I’ll take good care of it,” I said.
“I know. Thanks, Annisa,” she replied. She grabbed me up in a quick, tight hug and I almost burst into tears. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
“Me too,” I replied. “Break a leg!”
“All right, Beavers! Huddle up!” Becca shouted as the Marshall team bounded by us from the stage.
All the girls in red formed a tight klatch and I stepped back, feeling hollow inside. I wasn’t a Beaver anymore. They were going out there without me. It felt like I was moving away all over again.
“And now, from the state of New Jersey, the Northwood High School Beavers!” the announcer called out.
Jordan and the others raced out onto the mat, throwing their arms in the air and cheering their hearts out. It was so exciting, just to see them out there. I grinned through my jealousy and stepped as close to the stage as Mr. Headset would allow. This was one performance I was not going to miss.
The Beavers opened a can of whoop-ass out on that mat. They were awesome. Not one screwup as far as I could see, and even Gia’s faces were flawless. If the Beavers didn’t make the top ten, I was going to be shocked.
Wow. There was one sentence I never thought I’d say. They had really come a long way.
Minutes after the Beavers raced off the mats, I bounded out from behind the curtains with my new squad. As miffed as I had felt all morning, there was no denying the excitement coursing through my veins at that moment. This was nationals. The crowd was intense. My whole squad had so much energy, we were like a kindergarten class on cupcake day. I took my place in the opening formation and told myself to forget about the last twenty-four hours. To pretend this was just last week’s game when I was so excited about cheerleading and I loved my squad and I couldn’t wait to get here.
I looked up at the crowd. My parents had told me they were going to try to sit on the left side near the top, but I couldn’t find them. I did, however, see Daniel sitting there with his brother and the other guys, wearing WHADDUP SAND DUNE? T-shirts. My heart gave a lurch. He was still here. He hadn’t fled for home. That had to be a good sign, right?
Now my mind was off in Daniel La-La Land, so when the music started up, it took me by surprise. Not enough to throw me off, though. I flung myself into the routine like I never had before. This was the biggest competition of our lives. As they say, it was time to bring it.
As I popped up into my first toss, I heard the crowd gasp and then cheer. I kept my eyes on the judges as I came down and did my first jump. I swear they exchanged impressed glances. The smile that was already glued to my face widened as we launched into our first major dance sequence. The audience was loving the music, dancing in their seats and clapping along. Then it was time for the cheer portion. I popped up into the air in Autumn and Chandra’s palms. The crowd looked even bigger from up there.
“All you fans, yell ‘Go!’”
“Go!”
I thrust my sign to the sky and I swear the shouting almost knocked me over.
“All you fans, yell ‘Crabs!’”
“Crabs!”
Oh yeah, they liked us. They really liked us.
By the time the routine was done, I was out of breath, but confident. I hadn’t messed up once. Not a single time. There was absolutely nothing Tara Timothy could say to me.
Everyone hugged and cheered and laughed as we raced backstage. Whitney grabbed me in her ridiculously toned arms and spun me around. Coach Holmes jogged over, beaming.
“That was incredible, girls! You’re a lock!”
We all cheered and squealed, and then I heard it. Sage’s voice. She was jumping up and down, talking to Maureen.
“He’s here! I knew it! I knew he’d come!” she said giddily.
My heart turned to stone. She had seen Daniel in the crowd too. I knew it. I knew she wanted him back.
“Um . . . Annisa?” Mindy said, undoubtedly noticing the complete transformation in my face.
I barely heard her. My sights were set on Sage like a bitch-seeking missile system. I slipped by the other girls and tapped her on the shoulder. Sage turned aro
und and the expression of elation slid right off.
“Just so you know, he’s here to see me, not you,” I said. “He came to take me out to dinner last night, so maybe you should just wake up and smell the reality already.”
“Ooooh.” That was my teammates. Yeah, that’s right. Don’t mess with Annisa Gobrowski.
Sage just looked confused. Probably not used to me standing up for myself without getting all tongue-tied and hyper. I was as cold as granite.
It was really pretty cool, if I do say so myself.
“What are you—”
“Excuse me?” Coach Holmes interrupted, stepping up in front of me. “That’s why you missed dinner last night? I was told you were throwing up from nerves.”
My foot dove directly into my mouth. Tara Timothy hung her head. Whitney covered her eyes with her hand. That big old vein in Coach’s forehead was visibly throbbing.
Order me up a wreath of roses. I was dead.
17
Okay, saying that I had skipped dinner for Daniel in front of the entire squad might not have been the best idea, but I’d assumed they already knew. Can you blame me? Phoebe and Mindy were so mad at me when I bailed with Bethany and Daniel, I figured they must have told the rest of the squad. Tara, Jaimee, Chandra and Erin sure seemed to know last night. That was almost half of them right there!
But I guess I should have known they wouldn’t tell Coach. No matter what the situation, there was still some solidarity among teammates when it came to dealing with adults. Duh.
“Gobrowski, we need to talk,” Coach Holmes said.
“Coach, come on. It’s really not that big of a deal, is it?” Chandra asked, coming to my defense. I found myself stepping closer to her side. “I mean, it was only one meal. And the food kind of sucked anyway.”
“I second that,” Whitney said, making a grossed-out face.
“That’s really not the point, Albohm,” Coach said.
“She’s right,” Erin piped in. “Annisa disrespected all of us by skipping out on a meal for a guy.”
“Exactly,” Jaimee said.
“Well, what’s one meal in the face of true love?” Autumn countered. “It must have been so romantic, him coming down here to sweep you away.”
If only it had ended so romantically.
“Well, that’s true too,” Jaimee said, looking pained. “It was only one dinner . . .”
“Jaimee, are you even capable of making up your mind?” Erin snapped.
“Hey!” Jaimee said. “I’m just being diplomatical.”
“You mean diplomatic,” Felice put in.
“I hate how you’re always correcting me,” Jaimee said, whirling on Felice. “Just ’cause you got into Penn State early decision—”
“U Penn!” Felice replied. “It’s an Ivy League, okay? Penn State is a hole in the ground.”
“As a Penn State alumnus, I’d just like to say—watch it,” Coach Holmes told her.
Felice turned ten shades of purple. “Sorry, Coach.”
“Well, whatever, maybe I get words mixed up sometimes, but that’s no reason to make me feel stupid!” Jaimee said. “You know I got a perfect score on my math PSAT? What did you get?”
Felice’s jaw dropped. “I . . . Really?”
“We’re getting away from the point here,” Erin said. “And the point is—”
“That Annisa’s our teammate and we should let her explain,” Chandra said.
“She already tried that last night,” Erin countered. “And can I just say that I don’t think the Daniel thing is half as bad as her giving up tips to the enemy.”
“You go, girl!” Sage said as the rest of the team grumbled their agreement.
“What?” Coach Holmes blurted.
“They’re not the enemy!” I cried. “And I was just—”
“Being more loyal to them than you are to us,” Erin interrupted.
My face burned as the entire team started talking over one another.
“I think that we should all—”
“No one cares what you think—”
“Everyone just breathe. Serenity, people! Serenity—”
“Oh, stuff the serenity, Autumn.”
Suddenly there was a loud, sharp whistle and my heart leapt in surprise. Everyone turned to look at Tara, who was standing next to Whitney, she of the perfect two-fingered whistle.
“Enough!” Tara shouted. “I am still the captain of this squad and I want everyone to shut up and calm down. You’re making a scene.”
I glanced over my shoulder and sure enough, a bunch of the other squads were all huddled up, watching us.
“Any second now they’re going to call us out there to announce the finalists, and you will all be smiling and happy or I swear to God I will personally find a way to make each and every one of you regret it, got me?” she said through her teeth.
No one said a word. In my mind’s eye I saw Tara flipping through FBI files on the squad members, wickedly discerning the specific methods for torturing each of her teammates.
“Everyone listen up!” the backstage manager shouted. He was already going hoarse from the effort of screaming over hundreds of cheerleaders. “I want the squads to line up in the following order for your entrance. First, right here by the curtains, the Marshall High Cowgirls . . . second, the Northwood High Beavers . . . third, the Sand Dune High Fighting Crabs . . .”
Even with all the insanity, my skin sizzled with anticipation. We were about to find out if we had made the top ten. Of course, win or lose, it seemed like nothing was ever going to be the same again. It kind of put a damper on things, to say the least.
“Let’s go,” Tara said.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Coach Holmes told me.
I turned and trudged into line. Autumn slipped her slim arm over my shoulders. “Finding serenity is important,” she said morosely.
“I know,” I told her, patting her on the back. “I know.”
Gathered on the stage, I knelt in a line with seven other girls, while eight more stood behind us. Everyone was clutching hands, so we all did too, even though most of us probably didn’t feel like it after that argument. Keeping the grin on my face was hard work. Between the nervousness over whether we made it and the palpable tension on the squad, smiling was the last thing on my mind. It made my cheek muscles hurt and turned the insides of my lips dry.
Gracie Beck, the former gymnast turned competition announcer, took the stage in her perfect blue suit and heels. Her formerly tiny body had filled out considerably since her Olympic days and her red hair was styled into a short, chic bob. I wondered what she would have said if her eight-member gold medal team had told her to dye that gorgeous hair to match theirs. She probably would have told them what they could do with their balance beams.
“First of all, I’d like to thank everyone here for an amazing competition, one of the best we’ve ever had,” Gracie said into the microphone, clutching a large light blue index card. The announcement was met with insane applause.
“Of course, only ten squads can make it through to the finals and I know that if I put it off any longer, you might rebel on me.” (Polite, nervous laughter.) “So without further ado, our first squad is . . .”
Chandra’s grip on my fingers tightened.
“Well, this is no surprise. Last year’s champions, the Mecatur High School Black Bears from Louisiana!”
On the opposite side of the stage, the Black Bears flipped out. Like to the point where it was scary. I thought one of them was going to pull something, she was jumping up and down so hard. I scanned the crowd again to keep from staring the Black Bears down and finally found my parents. My mom waved and my dad snapped a picture. Gabe was kicked back in his seat, buffing his fingernails. Yes, that was my brother.
Daniel was only a few rows ahead of them. I couldn’t tell whether he was looking at me or Sage. Either way, he didn’t look all that happy to be there.
“Congratulations, girls. Our next finalist squa
d is the Holy Cross High School Angels of California!”
Another squad in white, gold and black went nuts. My heart slammed around in my rib cage. Only eight squads left.
“If they made it, we definitely made it,” Phoebe said behind me. “Did you see their stunts?”
“Pitiful,” Whitney agreed.
“Bad luck!” Tara admonished them.
“Omigod, get over it,” Whitney told her. “I can smell your feet from here.”
I tried not to laugh. Two more teams were announced. Two more squads went ballistic. My palms were sweating so much that it was impossible to tell where my perspiration ended and Chandra’s and Autumn’s began.
“Number five,” Gracie announced. “A brand-new entry at nationals this year, from right here in the great state of Florida, the Sand Dune High School Fighting Crabs!”
Before I knew it, I was on my feet. Everyone was hugging and bouncing and screaming. For that split second of psychotic happiness, everything was forgotten. I hugged everyone in sight. I think I even hugged Sage.
Once we calmed down and got back to our places, my heart felt a hundred times lighter than it had just moments ago. We were through to the finals. It was such a load off. Of course, I still had a lecture coming at me. And a squad full of people who hated me. And Daniel and Sage. And Jordan . . . and . . . Jordan.
I glanced left at the Beavers squad, all of whom had gone green from the effort of keeping up the smiles. Gracie Beck had called at least eight squads by now, and the Beavers weren’t one of them.
Come on, I thought, mentally willing Gracie to read their name. Come on! They were incredible! They have to make finals!
“Our ninth squad is . . . the Southeast High School Lions of Tennessee!”
I applauded as the Tennessee squad freaked out. I hadn’t really talked to any of them, but they were always polite when we were practicing, unlike another squad we shared a ballroom with.
