Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (4 page)

“You’re really handling this well,” Mom told me before she left for work. “Maybe it’ll work out after all.”

I nodded as I placed Nana’s sandwich for lunch in an obvious part of the refrigerator. “Thanks.” Then I reminded her that I needed money for my cheerleading uniform. “The meeting is today,” I said. “I’m supposed to bring a check.”

Mom quickly got into her purse and tore out a check. “Is this just for football season?” she asked as she signed it and handed it to me. “Or are we getting the full whammy all at once?”

“Just football season,” I assured her.

“Well, that’s a relief.” Then she actually smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Reagan. I knew you’d handle the adjustment of this move just fine. And you have.”

“Thanks,” I told her as I slipped her blank check into my purse.

But now as I walk down the hall by myself, I wonder if I really have made the adjustment. It sure would help to have a friend by my side. Seeing Kendra and her friends hanging together doesn’t make me feel any better. I don’t look directly at them, although I’m hoping they’ll call out, invite me over, be nice, but they don’t. As I get closer, I can tell they’re looking at me. I’m still not looking at them, but I can just feel it. Then Kendra makes a comment that I can’t quite hear, and the girls all laugh loudly — at my expense, I’m sure. Okay, it’s possible that I’m just being paranoid, but having been on the other side of this same fence, I’m pretty sure Kendra’s making fun of me right now. Still, I don’t show the slightest reaction. I will not give her the satisfaction. I know she has it out for me. And I know this is going to be a tough battle, but I think I’m up for it.

Because of making varsity squad, my schedule had to be rearranged. Instead of taking regular PE, we have a cheerleading class, which is seventh period. I’ve been looking forward to it all day, but now that I’m on my way to the locker room by myself, I’m not so sure. Still, when I notice poor Andrea Lynch coming out of the locker room with some pathetic girl who’s even lamer than she is, I think I really shouldn’t complain. Naturally, I slow my pace, averting my eyes to avoid any form of contact with these two losers. I actually pretend to study an AIDS awareness poster on the wall — eew. And then I continue on my way, holding my head high. Yes, life could be worse.

I coolly survey the locker room, trying to decide the best way to handle this. I don’t want to slink off to a corner like I’m intimidated, but I also don’t want to strip down in the center of the room like I’m an exhibitionist. I notice that some of the other cheerleaders are already here, getting dressed down and ready to practice. Feeling more self-conscious than I’ve felt since middle school, I find a semi-neutral spot and begin to do the same.

“You’re new at Belmont, aren’t you?” The girl to my left is clearly studying me as she adjusts her snug-fitting tank top around her midriff. She’s about my same height and has this amazing wavy red hair that appears to be her natural color. I vaguely remember this girl from tryouts, but I never caught her name.

“Yes,” I tell her cautiously. “I moved from Boston last summer.”

“Hey, I have an aunt who lives in Boston.” She pulls her red mane back into a bright blue bungee, creating a thick tail that goes partway down her back. “I got to visit her one summer when I was thirteen. I thought it was a pretty cool city.”

“Yeah, I kinda miss it.”

“It must be hard changing schools.”

I nod as I tug on my sport socks. “Pretty much.”

“But you made varsity,” she says with enthusiasm. Then she reaches up to give me a high five. “That’s pretty awesome.”

I return the high five. “So, you’re on varsity too?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I guess I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Jocelyn Matthews. This is my first year on varsity and I’m still pretty jazzed about it.”

“I’m Reagan Mercer,” I tell her. “I’m pretty jazzed too.” I glance around the noisy locker room, which has way more than eight cheerleaders getting dressed down at the moment. “I’m assuming this isn’t just varsity in here.”

“Freshman, sophomore, and JV all have cheerleading the same period. We’ll do some warm-ups and stuff together, then we break up into our own squads. I know ’cause I was on JV last year.”

“Oh.” I pull on my black Lycra shorts, smoothing out the waistband.

“I heard Kendra was pretty ticked about not making the squad.” Jocelyn gets a slightly mischievous grin. “I’m just glad she’s mad at you instead of me. Besides you, I’m the only one who wasn’t on varsity last year — plus I’m just a sophomore. So I just naturally figured I’d be the one to take the heat.” She laughs. “Then I heard that she’s blaming you.”

“Guess you got lucky.” But as I say this, I decide that I need to befriend Jocelyn — the sooner the better. It’s obvious that we’re both on the outside. Okay, maybe me more than her. “Hey, since we’re both newcomers,” I say in a light voice that I hope doesn’t sound too desperate, “maybe we should sort of stick together.”

“I’m cool with that. Like they say, there’s safety in numbers.”

We’re both dressed now. And, along with the others, we trickle out to the girls’ gym, where we perch on the bleachers, listening as Coach Anderson introduces herself and the other cheerleading coach. Then she does a little welcome speech, predicting great things for the year ahead. After that she gets a little stern as she goes over the rules and hands out contracts that we’re supposed to sign. It all seems pretty basic and about the same as my old school. She talks about the busy upcoming schedule and how the cheerleaders are somewhat self-governing. “I think it’s good for you girls to learn how to get along, to delegate, and to make good decisions. I like to play the role of consultant, and as long as you work hard and abide by the rules, I try to stay out of your hair.”

Finally she introduces the members of all the squads, including the varsity boys, Chad, Ben, and Jonathan. She also announces who the head cheerleaders will be this year. “As always, the head cheerleaders are selected according to the highest scores in tryouts combined with the most votes from the student body.”

It seems that most of the girls aren’t surprised by any of this, although I have no idea who the head cheerleader will be. As it turns out, Falon Atwood is the head of varsity. She’s the tallest girl on our squad, with nearly black hair that’s thick, long, and straight. And she has these really pretty dark eyes, sort of Latina looking, but not quite. I haven’t actually met her yet, but I’ve seen her in my Algebra 2 class and she seems pretty nice — probably a natural leader.

But here’s what has been catching my attention throughout all of this, so much so that it’s hard to concentrate on anything else that’s going on or being said: There is one person in the gym I didn’t expect to see in this class. A certain girl I assumed would be too embarrassed to show her face around here. But for some reason, Kendra Farnsworth is just sitting there with her friends like she thinks she made varsity. I have no idea what she’s doing, but I have to admit this girl has some nerve. Coach Anderson never called Kendra’s name when she introduced everyone and, in fact, seems to be ignoring her. So what’s up with this? Why is Kendra here?

Finally we break up into our respective squads. And Kendra walks over with her friends and stands with the varsity squad, acting like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be here. I’m trying not to stare.

“Uh, Kendra,” says Falon, “what are you doing here?”

Kendra smiles, then turns to her best friend. “Tell her, Sally.”

Sally grins. “Well, we were all talking and we agreed that we should have Kendra practice with us.”

“Why?” asks Falon with a slight frown.

“She’s first alternate,” says Sally, like that explains everything.

“Since when do alternates practice with the squad?” spouts Jocelyn. I glance at my new friend, concerned whether this girl is going to be an asset or a liability. I try to give her a look that says, “Shut up!”

Kendra glares at Jocelyn, narrowing her eyes in a way that suggests she could eat this girl for lunch. “Maybe they don’t do that on
junior
varsity, Jocelyn, but it’s been known to happen on varsity in past years.”

“Why?” asks Falon again.

“In case someone gets cut from the squad,” says Sally. “Then the alternate is all ready to step in.”

“Why would anyone get cut from the squad?” Falon’s tone is growing impatient now.

“You know why,” says another one of Kendra’s friends. For some reason it feels as if they’ve rehearsed this little scene. I imagine them at Kendra’s house, going over their lines, practicing until they have it down. “Things happen,” she continues. “For instance, someone breaks a leg or breaks the rules — ”

“Yeah, remember when Cassidy Johnson got pregnant a couple years back?” says Meredith. “It was right before state, and it really messed things up for the rest of the squad.”

“Yeah,” I say in a joking tone, “those pregnant cheerleaders just don’t have the best balance.”

“And it can get really messy when they’re the top of the pyramid,” adds Jocelyn, which actually makes Jonathan laugh.

“And you should try tossing a pregnant cheerleader in the air,” says Ben, the tallest of the bunch. He gets a few more laughs.

“How about catching them?” says Chad. “Splat!”

Falon rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. I suppose we can put this to the vote. Let’s get it over with. How many of you want our alternate to attend practices with us?”

Five female hands instantly shoot up — all of Kendra’s friends. Then they turn and glare at the guys, who slowly take the hint and follow suit. Finally, feeling stupid, I slip my hand up too, but Jocelyn just frowns, like she’s refusing to give in. Falon shakes her head and I can tell she thinks we’re all crazy. “Okay,” she says reluctantly, “looks like Kendra gets to practice with us.”

Then she moves on to uniforms. She’s got her laptop and immediately pulls up a website that has an outfit she’s recommending. Our colors are royal blue and white, and I think the outfit is okay. Nothing great, but not that bad. Then I notice Kendra nudging Sally, and then Sally speaks up again. “Actually, we found another site, Falon. It’s got some really cool stuff on it. You mind if we check it out too?”

Falon looks even more frustrated now and I can tell she just wants to move on with this. But she diplomatically puts it to a vote.

“Hey, wait a second.” Jocelyn points to Kendra. “Do alternates get to vote too?”

Falon seems to consider this. “No,” she says firmly. “They do not.”

“Sorry.” Kendra puts her hand down and acts offended.

But, once again, it feels like all this has been scripted in advance. Kendra’s friends win the vote, although it does occur to me that if Jocelyn and I joined forces with Falon and got the boys to come along, we might actually have a chance against them. Not that I care so much when it comes to the uniforms. The website they’ve chosen is the same one we ordered uniforms from back in Boston, and I happen to think it’s pretty good.

“Their prices are way higher,” points out Jocelyn as we examine some of the outfits that Kendra’s friends seem to have preselected.

“Yeah, but their quality is way better,” says Sally in a snooty voice.

“You don’t want to look cheap out there, do you?” Kendra is using that superior tone again, aiming her comments at Jocelyn. “I mean, just because some of us don’t seem to care about fashion and appearance …” She gives Jocelyn a long, scrutinizing look, insinuating that the sophomore doesn’t measure up. After that, Jocelyn just seems to clam up, which I actually think is smart on her part. Although I partially admire her for standing up to these girls, I also think she’s asking for trouble, and I plan to give her a little warning speech later.

“Okay,” says Falon after we’ve made some decisions. She’s obviously irritated with how long this is taking, as well as with the bickering that’s going on over whether to go with the traditional pleated skirt or the flared one. “It’s time to do some actual practicing. I have a new routine that I put together last weekend, and I want to start teaching it to you today. You guys can figure out the uniform details later. Sally, you’re in charge of that, okay?”

“Fine,” says Sally, “but we have to get our order in by today if we want our new uniforms here for homecoming — and that’s only if we pay extra for shipping.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time varsity wore old uniforms to homecoming,” Falon points out as she claps her hands and gets us to our feet. “Come on, let’s line up.”

I’m relieved that we finally get to practice. My favorite part of cheering is actually doing it, but there are always those other girls who get into the politics of it. They seem to love the power struggles and fighting over every decision and making a big scene. The drama queens. And sometimes they just make me want to scream. To distract myself from all that nonsense, I give Falon my total attention. Imitating her as she goes through the moves, I quickly learn the routine and make a real effort to use my best form. No slacking from this girl. Then, just as we’ve finished up, Kendra comes over to speak to me.

“You’re sweating, Reagan.”

I sort of laugh, then shrug. “So?”

“So why are you trying so hard? You already made the squad. Do you think you have something to prove?”

“Just that she’s better than you,” says Jocelyn.