A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love (12 page)

Like that bikini car wash they had in
Bring It On
? Now
that
would make mad cash.”

“Aw, yeah,” Daniel said, reaching up to slap Terrell’s hand. Steven and Joe both did as well. I leveled Daniel with a glare, which took him way too long to notice.

“Such boys,” Phoebe said, starting to fume.

“Sorry,” Daniel told me, leaning back again. He turned a particularly embarrassed shade of pink. “I just . . . sorry.”

Then I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Boys were
so
predictable. I didn’t think a car wash was the
worst
idea, but we all knew why the guys liked the plan. Sudsy wet girls in bikinis washing hot cars? It was the theme of half the boy-centric calendars at the mall this time of year. Not to mention one seriously inappropriate Jessica Simpson video.

Which my brother had TiVoed and saved for posterity, by the way.

Tara crossed her arms over her stomach and cocked her hip, facing off with Terrell. “And, tell me, will all of you guys be wearing bikinis for this little fundraiser as well?”

I pressed my lips together as we all looked back at Terrell. She had him there. I could not imagine Daniel and the rest of them prancing around half naked and wet. Actually, I could, and it was kind of hilarious. But then my brain could imagine almost anything, most of which would never happen in real life.

“Sure,” Terrell said with a shrug. “Anything it takes to bring in the green. That’s how dedicated I am to this team,” he said, placing a fist in his palm with mock seriousness. Tara clucked her tongue and looked away. “And besides, you know all this is gonna look
fine
in a Speedo,” Terrell added, striking a bodybuilder pose.

Even Coach Holmes had to hide a laugh behind her clipboard for that one.

“Nice to know you have no problem objectifying us or yourself,” Chandra said, rolling her eyes.

“Who’s talking about objectifying?” Steven piped in. “The consumers are gonna be the ones giving up their cash for a substandard car wash. That’s their prerogative.”

“I think we should do it,” Daniel said.

“What?”
Chandra blurted.

“Nice boyfriend,” Phoebe muttered.

“Hey!” Daniel and I said at the same time. Phoebe really was getting testy lately.

Suddenly the entire team erupted with comments and retorts. The guys argued for the car wash, while a couple of the girls went off about how it would be so much more work than a bake sale. Autumn, ever the diplomat, suggested we all take a vote, but everyone ignored her. Things were getting a little out of hand by the time Tara finally walked over to Coach, grabbed the woman’s whistle right off her chest and blew.

“All right! That’s enough!” Tara shouted as soon as everyone had quieted down.

“Look, all’s I’m saying is, how much money are you
really
going to make at a bake sale?” Terrell said. “It doesn’t
have
to be a car wash, but we should be thinking outside the box.”

“Is this cheerleading practice, or an episode of
The Apprentice
?” Chandra muttered.

Tara stood on the other side of our little klatch and faced off with Terrell over our heads. If it had been any colder out, there would have been steam coming out her ears.

“Look, Truluck.” Tara said his name with the very same condescending sneer she used to use on mine. Although his she pronounced correctly. “
We
are going to do a bake sale,” she said, indicating the squad with her hands. But we all knew she was talking about the girls. “If you think you have a better idea, go for it.”

“You” meaning “the guys.”

Terrell squinted. I could already hear the cogs in his brain working. He was going to take this challenge very seriously. There was no way he wanted to be shown up by a bunch of girls wielding boxes of Betty Crocker. “All right. Maybe I will.”

“Fine,” Tara said blithely.

“Fine,” Terrell retorted.

Yeah. This was gonna be trouble.

 
“Put it in the hoop and

Score!

To!

Win!”

I ended our halftime cheer up in a chair sit, my arms in a high V, and grinned when everyone in the stands freaked out. Flashbulbs popped throughout the bleachers, everyone trying to get shots of the first-ever coed SDH cheerleading squad. Daniel’s arm trembled beneath me and I felt a swoop of foreboding, but I kept my smile on until we cradled out. He caught me perfectly. Thank goodness.

“You okay?” I asked him as I popped out of his arms.

“Just nervous, I guess. Sorry,” he said.

“Hey. As long as you don’t drop me, we have no problem,” I told him under my breath.

We all cheered with the crowd as we jogged back to the bleachers. Daniel looked so handsome in his brand-new blue cheerleading pants and white-and-blue sweater that I just wanted to jump him and smooch him at every single moment. All the guys looked great, in fact. They were the picture of all-American boys.

“Good job,” Coach told us as we huddled up. “We just need to work on sticking the landings in unison. You should always be counting in your minds, all right? ABC. Always Be Counting.”

We nodded, all of us catching our breath. The boys in particular seemed to be heaving, and I wondered if it was more from nerves than from actual exertion. I felt for them. I did. Ever since the Bayside fans had first taken note of the guys on our squad, there had been all kinds of whispers and pointing. We were all waiting for someone to shout some idiotic comment and throw us off. But so far, nothing had happened.

Maybe people were more mature than I gave them credit for.

“Okay, you can all go get a drink and hang out until the team comes back,” Coach told us.

Daniel grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the lobby, where some of the spectators were milling around, snacking on candy bars and sodas from the vending machines. But instead of going for a sugar fix, he nudged me over toward the trophy case and gave me a nice, long kiss.

Ah. Just what I wanted. A Daniel fix.

“Have I ever told you how unbelievable you look in your cheerleading uniform?” he said.

“Right back at ya,” I replied, all butterflies.

Over his shoulder I saw a couple of Bayside girls checking Daniel out from behind. I shot them a withering look and gave him another quick kiss. Just in case they got any ideas.

“Hey! Break it up!” Tara Timothy said, pulling Daniel away from me by the back of his sweater. “No public displays of affection between teammates. It’s a rule.”

“Since when?” I asked.

“Since now,” Tara told me. “Got a problem?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, captain, my captain,” I said.

She smiled quickly and strutted away, drunk with power.

“Love her. Really,” Daniel said, leaning back against the trophy case next to me. “Love her so much, I’m thinking about mounting her head on my wall.”

“Ew! Daniel!” I said with a laugh. He grinned and took my hand, holding it behind our backs so no one could see. Ah, total bliss.

“Yo, Healy! You better not be telling your girlfriend all the little details of our plan,” Terrell said, coming over to slap Daniel’s hand.

“Plan? What plan?” I said, standing up straight.

Daniel shook his head. “Actually, I didn’t even tell her we
had
a plan,” he said to Terrell. “But nice job.”

“What plan?” I asked again. “Wait, you guys don’t already have a fundraising idea, do you?”

“Uh, yeah, we do,” Terrell said cockily. “And it’s gonna blow your little bake sale right out of the water.”

I released Daniel’s hand and crossed my arms over the SDH on my chest as the thrill of competition sparked up inside of me. Fundraising had always been a huge part of cheerleading. We had experience on our side. What did these guys know about it? If they beat us at something as fundamental as fundraising, we were never going to live it down. It would be like beating us at our own game.

This had to be a joke. There was no way they had come up with a blow-us-out-of-the-water-sized plan in the last two hours. And with zero experience. No way.

“What?” Daniel asked me.

“You don’t have a plan,” I said.

“Yes, we do,” Daniel replied.

“Please. Tell me another one,” I said, throwing a hand up at them before sauntering away. “You can’t psych me out, Healy,” I said over my shoulder. “I am un-psych-able.”

“Hey! Don’t underestimate us just because we’re guys!” Daniel said. “We can fundraise with the best of ’em!”

I laughed and walked back into the gym. But in the back of my mind the seed was planted. What, if anything, did they have up their short little sweater sleeves?

 
The last day of school before Christmas break was mayhem. Exams were over and the teachers had about as much interest in teaching as we had in learning, so for the most part we just hung out in our classes. Mrs. O’Donaghue showed us the Jim Carrey version of
How the Grinch Stole Christmas
, claiming that it fit into our recent conversation about adapting American literature into film, and Señorita Marquez, my Spanish teacher, taught us all the words to “Feliz Navidad” and had us singing it at the top of our lungs. Even Mr. Loreng, my evil-spitter geometry teacher, wore a Santa hat and handed out candy canes, though he did give us a “just for fun” math topics quiz. Instead of answering the questions, I drew an elaborate winter scene with a snowman in the center and handed it in.

Hey, if it was just for fun . . .

Of course, the women of the cheerleading squad were giddy not just with anticipation of the holidays and the week’s vacation, but with the fact that as far as we knew, the boys had never planned a fundraiser. They had mentioned nothing about it and for the past few days had held furtive, panicked-looking meetings during every water and stretching break. Coach Holmes had already left to go home for Christmas—leaving the fundraiser in Tara’s capable hands—but she was going to freak when she returned and it was revealed that the guys hadn’t lifted a finger to help with the bake sale and hadn’t earned a dollar on their own. They were so done. So very, very done.

Is it wrong that knowing this made me happy? I mean, Daniel may have been my boyfriend, but I still relished the idea of him and his brothers in crime getting knocked down a few pegs. Show them to mess with the fundraisers extraordinaires.

By the time classes let out, everyone in the school was one Toll House cookie shy of manic. The cheerleading squad was released from classes twenty minutes early so that we could get to the lobby and set up for the bake sale. I couldn’t wait to get down there. This was going to be so much fun!

I was jogging down the stairs from the front hall when I saw Daniel and Terrell, along with K. C. Lawrence and a couple of other guys from the wrestling and football teams, jostling their way into a boys’ bathroom near the cafeteria. They were all whispering urgently and a couple of them had clothing on hangers folded over their forearms.

Instantly my radar went off. Something was up.

“What’re you guys doing?” I blurted.

Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Nothing!” he said, backing into the room as I pursued him. “Can’t come in here,” he said, pointing at the little metal sign. “Boys’ room.”

Then he closed the door in my face and everyone inside burst out laughing. Frustration shook me from head to foot. What were they doing in there? Did it have something to do with their fundraiser? Could they have possibly pulled something off without any of us hearing word one about it? And what did K. C. and the other guys have to do with it?

Behind the thick wooden door I heard stall doors slam and a couple of raucous shouts. Something strange was afoot in the boys’ bathroom. And suddenly I smelled doom.

At least that was
all
I smelled. Hanging around outside the guys’ bathroom, you just never knew.

My holiday spirit somewhat dampened, I trudged to the lobby where three tables had already been set up, Christmas and Hanukkah tablecloths smoothed over their surfaces. Tara and the others were laying out the baked goods we had all stashed in Coach Holmes’ office that morning. It was a seriously impressive spread. Cookies and pound cake, fudge and brownies, muffins and carrot cake, and tons of other stuff. My stomach grumbled audibly, but even the sight of all that sugar couldn’t knock the dread out of me.