What Goes Around (10 page)

“Whatever makes you happy,” Lauren laughed; she knew her older sister could never hang when it came to chowing down. “Speaking of what makes you happy,” she teased in a conspiratorial tone. “How is Jason? Are you guys, like, totally in love? 'Cause I've seen the pictures on YRT, and the way he looks at you is
so
serious.”

“Funny you should ask,” Sydney hedged as she looked down at her fuzzy purple slippers.

“Uh-oh, I don't like the tone of that,” Lauren said as the smile quickly vanished from her face.

“No, nothing like that,” Sydney backtracked. “It's just that this relationship is so different from what I had with Marcus.”

“Well, duh, Syd! Jason is a fine-ass, popular, normal guy, and Marcus is a pompous, patchouli-oil-smelling, wack loser,” Lauren quickly rationalized as Edwina placed the large bowl of ice cream and two spoons in front of the two girls.

“There you go, enjoy,” she said politely.

“Thanks so much, Edwina,” Sydney responded as she looked at the monstrosity her sister was already busily scarfing down.

“If you need anything else, I'll be in my room,” Edwina said, quietly stepping back.

“Okay, thanks, Big E,” Lauren said between mouthfuls.

“Good night, Edwina,” Sydney replied as she scooped up a small spoonful. “Anyway,” she continued. “So basically, Jason is really great. It's just that he really won't let the whole Marcus thing go.”

“Ugh, you don't have to tell me about men not wanting to let stuff go,” Lauren said with a frustrated roll of her eyes.

“But there's a difference between him being frustrated and talking about it and him getting mad at me because of the situation,” Sydney tried to explain.

“What do you mean, 'getting mad'?” Lauren asked curiously. “What is there to be mad about? Marcus was a bad decision, let's all move on.”

“Right, that's what I thought, too, but…let's just say Jason has a temper that seems to flare up any time I'm within fifty feet of Marcus. And it makes him act all weird. Like he accused me of wearing a tight dress to the last Sadie Hawkins planning meeting to turn Marcus on or something…”

Lauren almost choked. “You in a 'tight' dress? Seriously? Do you even own anything 'tight'?”

“I know, right?” Sydney mused as she twirled the same spoonful around in the bowl before finally putting it in her
mouth. “But here's the thing. I had this Sister Share session at Better Day earlier this evening.”

“What's a 'Sister Share' session?” Lauren asked curiously.

“It's when the women at the shelter sit down and tell their stories to one another so that they can get support and problem-solve how to move forward…”

“Ah, okay,” Lauren said as she neared the bottom of the bowl. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah, it was. But listen, so I'm there and this girl Mary gets up to talk. Now mind you, Mary's not that old. I think she's, like, twenty-eight.”

“Twenty-eight is way older than us,” Lauren mused as she eyed Sydney's melting spoonful.

“Lauren, will you just listen?” Sydney said sharply before continuing. “So anyway, Mary was saying how when she first started dating her boyfriend—mind you, this is the same boyfriend that flipped out one day and broke several of her ribs and her nose—he used to be really jealous of her ex-boyfriend. And he used to make comments about her clothes and stuff. That's kinda bizarre that it sounds so much like what Jason is doing, right?”

Lauren looked at her sister thoughtfully. “Yeah, that is crazy,” she finally said after a moment. “I mean, he's so cool, I can't see…”

“But that's the thing. None of these women ever thought the guy they were with could be capable of hitting them. And then you find them dropped off in a ditch,” Sydney blurted out before she even realized what she was saying.

Lauren's eyes widened. “I don't know, Syd. You're, like, the smartest person I know. If your gut is telling you there's a problem, maybe you should listen,” she cautioned, changing her tune.

“I'm not saying there's a problem,” Sydney started to backtrack, suddenly worried that she'd said too much. The last thing she wanted to do was make her sister think she was about to become an after-school special. “I guess it was just that moment got me a little weirded out. Like you said, Jason's too cool to ever do something crazy.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow suspiciously and seemed about to say something when Sydney's back pocket rang. Sydney grabbed her iPhone and looked at the message from Marcus that had just popped up: FYI: I'm on top of the banking situation. Took care of the deposits, don't worry about the Sadie Hawkins account, we're all good. MG. She sighed loudly as she put it down on the table.

“What's that about?” Lauren questioned suspiciously.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “It's just some Sadie Hawkins Benefit drama. I will be so glad when this party is over. It is the bane of my existence.”

“Ah, okay,” Lauren said as she picked up the empty bowl and headed over to the sink.

“Hey, before I forget,” Sydney said, standing up from the table and heading over to her sister's side at the sink. “Have you heard anything from Uncle Larry?” she whispered over the running water.

Lauren shook her head. “Nope, sure haven't. But I'm sure if there was anything, he would let us know. We probably just need to resume life until something actually happens.”

“You're so right,” Sydney said. “Clearly, I'm becoming, like, totally paranoid,” she joked wryly.

Lauren turned off the water, shook the excess moisture off her bowl, and put it in the dishwasher. She grabbed a paper towel to dry her hands and turned to face her stressed-out-looking sister. “Sydney, seriously? You gotta relax. Everything is going to be just fine.” She put her arms around Sydney, gave her a tight squeeze, and whispered softly in her ear, “I promise.”

The staccato of the synthesized horns in Ludacris's “Number One Spot” bounced around the gym walls—the beat so deep that if you bothered to look at the basketball net and the bleachers, you would have seen the two of them rattling about like Melyssa Ford's badunkadunk in an old BET music video. But it wasn't the nets or the bleachers or even trifling video girls that everybody was watching. No, today, Lauren was putting on a show worthy of a Top 10 YouTube video—and all eyes were on her.

Decked out in skintight, hot-pink Nike leggings and a matching tank top knotted at the waist to show off her belly button, Lauren mouthed the words to the song as she gyrated and swirled her hips, sat into a perfect knee bend, then hopped back up and popped her butt with the
conviction of a woman who was expecting some tips for her hard work.

For sure, overprotective adults with more conservative leanings may have likened her dancing to a Magic City-worthy spectacle, but Lauren knew her constituency: This was what moved crowds, and who was Lauren to disappoint? This was the kind of routine the squad had been rooting for toward the end of last year's basketball season—the kind of dance that, if the squad put its back into it at halftime, surely would work the good students of Brookhaven Prep into a tizzy. She had choreographed most of the moves under Dara's watchful eyes a year ago. Lauren had created it specifically to make her mark on the squad, which, under the direction of the prior dance squad coach, Ms. Bruchette, looked a little too old-school and proper for most of the students' taste. Coach Bruchette had them out there bumping a technical, mechanical two-step to Earth, Wind & Fire, while all the dancers and their fans were fiending for the squad to get low. Alas, despite the most vociferous outcries from Lauren's teammates, Coach Bruchette wasn't having it.

But today was a new day. Coach Bruchette had left the dance squad position and her gig at Brookhaven Prep to become the assistant vice principal at Brookhaven's rival, The Galloway School. And the new coach was considerably younger, cooler, and clearly open to new ideas, seeing
as she was trying to revamp the squad and get the girls to pick a new team captain. Lauren was all for revamping, but she wasn't about to see herself erased as the head dancer. So she put her back into it—to remind her squad mates that nobody could do it better than she could.

Lauren twisted one knee in and then the other and rocked her hips from side to side, circled her body around, and launched into a cartwheel/somersault/backflip combination that made a few of her onlookers, who were standing around pretending to stretch but really watching her every move, gasp with glee. Well, most of them. Caroline Morrison and Trina Beddleman, who had all but attached themselves to Sydney's ex's left and right thigh like the trifling cleanup chicks they were, were both off to the side shaking their heads and clucking in each other's ears, trying their best to goad a few of the other dancers, most notably sisters Meghan and Lexi Robichaux, to join in.

Lauren pretended not to notice; she turned toward the control booth and signaled Lucy Thompson, a junior she'd personally recruited for the dance squad after watching her rock it in their Modern Dance class last semester, to start the song from the top.

“Lauren?” Delia Lawrence said, approaching her fellow squad member with the utmost care, half her attention on the anti-Lauren crowd, the other on the Queen B herself.
“I don't mean to pull you out of your zone, but I need to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” Lauren said, using the back of her hand to wipe sweat from her forehead and brow.

“Well, I did a couple of practice front flips earlier, and I think I might have pulled a muscle in my thigh,” Delia shouted over Ludacris, whose rich, lusty baritone once again was warning all within range of the Bose speakers not to “slip up or get got.” “You have any tips for getting rid of a leg cramp?”

“Did you warm up?” Lauren asked in her normal voice, forcing the girl to move in conspiratorially closer. This made the anti clique cluck a little louder. Lauren tried her best to ignore them. “Because that's what any good dancer needs to do first and foremost to prevent injury—warm up first, then stretch. Before I got here, I ran around the track twice to get my blood flowing, and then I stretched before I started working on the new routine.” She actually ran only halfway around the track—it was too cold to be out there freezing her behind off—and the stretching wasn't really all that drawn out, but whatev. It sounded good.

“Yeah, I didn't really give it much time,” Delia said. “I had a meeting with the Art Society Club and I didn't want to be late to squad practice, so instead of warming up I just got to it, you know?”

“Yeah, well, that's why your leg is hurt,” Lauren said simply. “Lie on your back and pull your knee to your chest, then rub it. It'll go away eventually. If it's still sore, go to the clubhouse. I've got a special leg-warming wrap I keep for occasions like these. Wrap it around your leg, but not too tight, or else you'll cut off your circulation, and that'll make it hurt worse.”

“Bet,” Delia said. “Good lookin' out. Oh, and that dance routine is the fire—it's for us?”

“I hope it is,” chimed in Kayo Childers, a dance squad vet who joined the team around the same time as Lauren. Two of her girls, Rachel Brown and Brooke Redd, flanked her.

“Mos def it's for us—and that's what your team captain is for,” Lauren said before turning her back and signaling Lucy to start the music again.

“You have got to teach us that one,” Kayo said breathlessly.

“It's easy—come on, I'll show you,” Lauren said, explaining some of the moves. With Kayo, Rachel, and Brooke lined up behind her, she counted down, “five, six, seven, eight,” and then the gyrating began.

“All right, all right, ladies,” Assistant Coach Maddie said, storming onto the court just as the group began to drop and pop it. “Let's focus, people. Cut the music,” she
demanded, signaling Lucy. She waited until Ludacris's voice faded out before continuing. “Okay, so we've got about four more practices before our first game, so we need to get it together. First, some team business: Coach Piper is out with the flu. Get those flu shots, people! We can't have half the team sidelined with an illness that could have been prevented. If you're afraid of needles, get the nose spray. It works—I know.

“In the meantime,” Coach Maddie continued, “Lauren Duke will act as captain until we can hold the official vote.”

The coach might as well have hammered Lauren in the head.
Did she say “act”? I'm supposed to “be” the captain, not “act,”
Lauren screamed inside of her head.

“Wait, so we are going to take a vote at some point, right?” Caroline pouted.

Lauren rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “That's what the coach said,” Lauren snapped, backed up by giggles from Kayo and her girls. The room fell dead silent; the rest of the squad members seemed to lean in a little closer.

“Oh, I'm just trying to make sure we're all clear what's going on here,” Caroline said.

“Um, maybe it needs to be said more slowly so that you can get it right: Coach Piper is sick, and we're going to pick the captain when coach is here,” Lauren said, dragging out each of her words.

“We're not going to 'pick' anybody—we're all going to vote, unlike in the past…” Caroline began, Trina nodding in agreement.

“In the past, it was clear who was the leader of this squad, just like it is now. Formalities, sweetie. This is all about formalities,” Lauren retorted.

“Uh-huh—I got your 'formalities,'” Caroline said.

“Ladies, ladies, please—not here, not today,” Coach Maddie said. “It's simple: There will be a vote, and anyone who thinks she's able to lead this team will be able to participate in the elections.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Lauren snapped.

Coach Maddie gave Lauren a hard-eye and then turned her attention back to her clipboard. “We have the Candy Crave coming up next week. Now, normally the captain and her co-captain would be responsible for pulling this together, but since the position has been up in the air, we need to—”

“I've already started working on it, Coach Maddie,” said Lauren of the dance squad fund-raiser, one of their biggest. On Candy Crave day, the squad members would fan out through the halls of Brookhaven Prep with special bags full of candy—Snickers, Now and Laters, Hubba Bubba, Red Hots, Skittles, MilkyWays, Hershey's Kisses, and more. They'd sell the candy at a ridiculous markup and add hundreds of dollars worth of cash to the squad's fund-
raising account. Lauren had meant to go buy the candy over the weekend—to show initiative. But, well, she had to help Donald with his shopping therapy on Saturday, and then on Sunday, her parents dragged her to church and to brunch, and by the time they got back home she just needed a nap, and then dinner, and then she had to get her nightly beauty ritual on earlier than usual because there was that
Law & Order: SVU
marathon she wanted to watch. She made a mental note to give Edwina a list so that she could hit up Sam's or Wal-Mart or wherever you get candy at a discount these days. “We should have the candy ready to split into the bags by Monday.”

“Seems like we should have the candy Friday so we can split it all before the weekend,” Trina chimed in. “I mean, the sale is on Tuesday, and I'm not planning to be up all night Monday trying to get this stuff done at the last minute.”

“Well, that's what your fearless captain is for,” Lauren smirked. “While you're relaxing, I work. It's no joke leading the team, but I do what I can,” she added, raising an eyebrow and admiring her nails.

“I hope to see that for myself real soon,” Caroline snapped.

“Whatev,” Lauren snapped back. The tension in the room was palpable; it was clear the squad was divided up into two sides—the Lauren camp and the Caroline
trough—and it was obvious by the way they were standing who was on whose side. You could practically draw a chalk line between them.

“Okay, ladies, enough,” Coach Maddie said, raising her hands as if in surrender. “The fund-raiser is Tuesday. Lauren, thank you for taking the lead on this. Please let your squad know when you need their help; don't try to take all of this on yourself, okay?”

“Sure thing, Coach,” Lauren said, her eyes still on Caroline.

“Okay, now, let's get to work. We've got to get the new girls up to speed on some of our classic routines and then get to work on a few new ones, so I hope everyone's warmed up,” Coach Maddie said.

“Actually, Coach, I was working on a little somethin'—somethin' during warm-ups,” Lauren chimed. “I already started teaching a few of the girls the steps. I'd be happy to show it to you, and maybe we could use it as the beginning of the new halftime show.”

“All right, loving the initiative, Ms. Lauren—let's see it,” Coach Maddie said, smiling.

Lauren gave Lucy the go-ahead to get the music going; within minutes, the entire squad was standing behind her, taking her cues—following her lead.

Just the way it should be.

“That was a cute little dance you pulled together, girl,” Meghan said, walking up behind Lauren, who was toweling off in front of her locker. “Maybe the next time you find yourself on the set of a Thug Heaven video shoot, you could whip that out—you know, get your shot.”

Lauren put her towel in her locker and sighed. “You know, it must really suck to be stuck playing the background all the time.”

“I wouldn't really know much about that,” Meghan said. “Maybe you could give me some lessons.”

“Oh, it wouldn't be a problem for me to school you,” Lauren said, her raised voice drawing the attention of the rest of the squad. A few of the girls slammed their lockers and leaned in to the catfight, tossing wild glares and shoulder shrugs at one another. They were seconds away from taking bets on which of the girls would win in an all-out brawl. The locker room fell dead silent. “But since I never play the rear, my lessons would be all about how to win.”

“It won't be with that hood rat twirl you were forcing on us today,” Meghan snapped. “I have to admit, I feel a little dumber after watching it.”

Lauren took a step forward and smiled. “Wow, I really didn't think it was possible for you to be dumber. But you know, since I'm trying to let my light shine bright today, I'll refrain from going there. Instead, I'll give you some of my friendly advice: Why don't you focus your energies on
getting that job at the drive-thru at Checkers and leave the big-girl work to the pros.”

“Funny you should bring up Checkers,” Caroline chimed in. “Isn't that how boys in the hood pay the rent? You know, I hear it's the perfect cover for the weed and crack sales.”

“I wouldn't know about that, seeing as I don't deal in weed or crack,” Lauren snapped. “Is there something you want to talk to us about, Caroline? Because you are aware of the dance squad prohibition against drugs, right?”

“Oh, I'm well aware of the rules,” Caroline said, stepping in to stand directly next to Meghan. “We all know about those. It's those unwritten rules that can get a little tricky. You know, 'Thou shalt not be seen in the SWATS if one wants her family's reputation to stay intact,' and 'Thou shalt act like she's got some home training,' and, oh, there's my personal favorite: 'Thou shalt not consort with hood rats and dough boys, lest you want to become one.'”

“You know what?” Lauren said, getting in Caroline's face.

Kayo stepped between the two and gently pushed Lauren back. “She's not worth it, Lauren, for real. Don't bother.”

Caroline flung her weave and turned to face Meghan. “You know what? Unlike some people in the room, I'm really not one to debase myself like this, so I'm going to go
ahead and hold my head up like a girl with some class. Maybe someone can watch my moves and learn a little.”