A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love (20 page)

“Maybe we should have given them a chance to apologize on Saturday,” I said, taking a cue from Jordan and playing testosterone advocate. Anything to keep from going over to the dark side.

“We would have if they hadn’t cut and run,” Chandra reminded me, holding on to the barre as she stretched her quads.

“They were totally immature about the whole thing,” Phoebe agreed.

Well. They had me there.

Sage strode into the room with her gym bag and walked right by the rest of us girls. Our heads all whipped around as one, following her progress. She narrowed her eyes at me as she passed by, dropped her bag on the floor near the guys and unzipped her white-and-blue sweatshirt, revealing the pink tank top underneath. She grabbed a pair of ten-pound free weights, dropped down on the weight bench next to Joe’s and started in on biceps curls. No one looked more surprised than Terrell when she said hello and started chatting.

Moments later, Lindsey and Karianna broke off and followed Sage’s lead, gathering around the guys. Then Michelle and Maureen did the same. Where had
that
come from?

“Real nice,” Phoebe said.

“Guess we’ve officially chosen sides,” Chandra added.

Jaimee just looked at her feet, miserable. I wondered how any of the girls who had cheered with her for so long could side with the guys who had sent her into hysterics. Guys who, by the way, had yet to apologize to her.

The door opened and slammed and Coach Holmes paused near the shelf full of stability balls. She wore a hot pink sweatshirt with white-and-yellow trim that was so bright, she could have been spotted from space.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, looking from the boys to us and back again. “What’s this all about?” She continued to eye our two factions as she walked over to the desk near the wall and placed her portable stereo down on top of it. “You guys were supposed to bond this weekend, not disband.”

A thick silence blanketed the weight room, almost as thick as the permanent stench of sweat and feet that always clung to the air. I felt like some giant hand was holding a magnifying glass over us, trying to fry us with a beam of sunlight. Very soon I found myself staring down at my sneakers, as if not looking at Coach Holmes would make her unable to see me.

“Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” Coach said.

I saw Tara’s feet move and looked up as she stepped forward. Apparently she had been more than serious when she’d told us she was ready to tattle on the guys. And that had been
before
the banner debacle.

“Here we go,” Chandra said.

“We believe that the guys, but especially Terrell, owe Jaimee an apology,” Tara stated firmly.

My heart felt like a sheet of paper being crumpled in someone’s fist. This was not going to be pretty.

“And why is that?” Coach asked, looking at all of us.

“Because Jaimee spent all night making this amazing banner and then Terrell threw a bag of hot wings at it,” Phoebe replied, glaring at the boys.

“Hey! No way!” Terrell cried, walking around the weight bench. “That is
not
how it went down! I threw the wings, yeah, but not
at
the banner. That was a mistake.”

“So you admit you ruined Jaimee’s hard work,” Coach said.

Terrell let out an indignant squeak and shifted his feet. “Well, yeah, but not on purpose.”

Coach Holmes nodded and moved away from the wall, standing between our two groups. “I think I understand. Truluck, will you come over here, please?” she said.

Terrell hesitated. My stomach turned.

“Now,” Coach said.

Terrell sighed audibly, but strode over to Coach Holmes’ side, his sneakers squeaking on the rubber-padded floor. He stood there, legs apart, arms crossed over his chest, as if daring Coach Holmes to punish him. My skin pulsated to the beat of my heart. I might as well have been witnessing a high-noon standoff. That’s how tense I felt.

“Jaimee, you too,” Coach Holmes said. No one moved. “Come over here, please.”

I glanced at Chandra and she and Felice parted so that Jaimee was visible to the entire room. Her face was as red as a hot coal as she glanced timidly at Terrell and stepped forward. She looked like she was going to burst into tears all over again. For someone who spent a lot of time in the spotlight, she clearly didn’t relish this one. Terrell clenched his jaw, but dropped his arms.

“I’m really sorry, Jaimee,” he said firmly. “I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s okay,” Jaimee said weakly.

I let out a breath of relief. That was easier than I thought it would be. Terrell turned to go back to the comforting company of his cohorts, but Coach Holmes stopped him.

“We’re not done here,” she said. Terrell tipped his head back, fed up, and turned to her again. “I think you need to help Jaimee make a new banner.”

Hey! That’s what
I
said!

“Come on, Coach,” Terrell said.

“We need a banner. We had a banner. You ruined the banner. I think it’s only fair you make a new one,” Coach said.

Tara smirked and Chandra laid her hand out for me to slip mine across, which I did. Aw, yeah. That’s how we roll.

“No way,” Terrell said. “Not gonna happen.”

“Excuse me?” Coach asked. The vein in her forehead started to throb.

“If I wanted to spend my time doing artsy-fartsy crap, I would’ve joined the art club or whatever,” Terrell said. “I am an athlete. An
all-state
athlete, in case you didn’t hear. I’m here to do stunts and gymnastics and have fun. Not to play Martha Stewart.”

“Nice,” Joe said.

Holy full-twisting layouts. Did these guys not understand the power of the throbbing vein?

“Where’s Coach Rincon, anyway? He’d back me up,” Terrell added.

Coach Holmes took a deep breath and massaged her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. “Coach Rincon won’t be joining us for practices anymore,” she said, earning an audible gasp from the room. I glanced at Chandra. Damn.
Had
we broken them up? “Come on, people, it’s not like you’re never going to see him again. He
will
be here for the pep rally. Said he wouldn’t miss it,” she added.

Phew. Okay. At least that was a good sign.

“Great. Now we’re down one man,” Terrell said. “The odds around here just keep gettin’ worse.”

Oy. Did this kid enjoy digging himself holes?

“I’m sorry if you don’t like your odds, Truluck, but from here on out you deal with me and only me.” Coach took a few steps closer to Terrell. He didn’t back down an inch. “And I must say, I am sick and tired of your attitude. I asked you all to plan an activity to promote squad unity and clearly you didn’t bother to take my request seriously—”

Terrell rolled his eyes. “Coach—”

“Making banners and decorations to rally school spirit is part of being a cheerleader at Sand Dune High, no matter what Coach Rincon had to say on the matter,” Coach continued, raising a hand to shut him up. “If you don’t like it, you can walk.”

Terrell blinked. Clearly he thought he was slightly more indispensable than Coach’s comments implied.

“You’re not serious,” he said.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Coach asked.

She didn’t. Not even a little bit. And that vein was
definitely
not kidding.

Terrell glanced at the team. We stared back. Everyone in the room held their breath. I wanted to look at Daniel, but that would have involved actual turning of my body and just then I couldn’t so much as blink. Plus, there was the fact that we hadn’t spoken all day—not since our little meltdown that morning.

Finally, ever so slowly, Terrell smiled. And not in a good way. I had this vision of him as a larger-than-life supervillain in a black cape, snarling down at Coach Holmes.

“Screw this,” he said, backing up from Coach and throwing his hands down. “If that’s the way you want to play it, then fine. I walk.”

He spun on his heel and strode across the room. I turned a wide-eyed look at Chandra and Autumn, who were next to me. Phoebe and Tara slapped hands behind their backs. Unbelievable. Never in my life had I seen someone talk back to an authority figure like that. Especially not one like Coach Holmes. Even the strongest of beings cowered before her.

But honestly, I was almost relieved to see Terrell go. As much as I had always liked the guy, he was a serious thorn in the foot of this cheerleading squad. Among the guys he was the agitator. Maybe that would be his supervillain name. Yeah. The Agitator. He’d have a big A on his chest and he’d be hovering over a huge vat of boiling lava, stirring us all up inside while he laughed his evil supervillain laugh.

Maybe we would all be better off without him.

“You sure about this, Truluck?” Coach Holmes shouted.

His response was to shove through the heavy metal door and slam it as hard as he possibly could.

 
“He has a lot of anger,” Autumn said a couple of hours later as we went for a water break. “You can see it in his aura. Black splotches everywhere.”

“Yeah, well, you’d have to have a lot of anger to be able to stand up to Coach Holmes like that,” I said, leaning back against the cool wall next to the water fountain. “And bravery. And maybe a little bit of a death wish.”

Daniel, Joe and Steven walked out of the weight room and gathered around the vending machine in silence. Tension instantly filled the gym lobby. They all pointedly ignored us as they fed their quarters into the slot and snagged their drinks. I felt like I was back in kindergarten when boys thought girls were icky and we all stayed on opposite ends of the playground. What was next? A finger-paint fight?

“What’s their problem?” Jaimee asked quietly. “They’ve been like that all practice.”

“They lost their fearless leader,” Chandra said grumpily.

I reached out and rubbed Jaimee’s bare arm in sympathy. I knew the guys’ new freeze-them-out attitude was especially hard on her, since she and Steven had been best friends all their lives. Of course it was kind of tough on me too. Since one of the freezers was supposedly the love of my life.

I tried to catch Daniel’s eye, but he was pointedly keeping his attention trained on his soda selection. Once they all had their drinks, they took them outside onto the cold stucco steps. So much for things getting better with Terrell gone. Our whole practice had been off-kilter as Coach Holmes was clearly frustrated, trying to reconfigure our stunts and pyramids for three guys rather than four. Meanwhile, the guys spoke to us only when they absolutely had to and refused to even look at us otherwise. If anything, things had only gotten worse.

“And then there were three,” Tara said under her breath. She was being a little
too
gleeful about our sucky situation, if you asked me.

“Typical Tara Timothy,” Sage said, shaking her head as she stepped up to the water fountain.

We sucked in a collective breath as Tara’s eyes narrowed. If standing up to Coach Holmes was the most dangerous thing a person could do around here, standing up to Tara was second.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Barnard?” Tara snapped.

Sage just blithely bent over the water fountain, took a long drink, then stood up and wiped her lips with the tips of her fingers. She slowly pushed her thick French braid over her shoulder. The scathing look she cast around at the rest of us was worthy of a Disney villain. Seriously, those animators needed to give her a call and use her as a model or something.

“It means I hope you guys are proud of yourselves,” she said, facing Tara and Phoebe. “Not only did you get our best guy kicked off the squad, but you’ve completely annoyed the rest of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all out of here by the end of the day. They’re probably talking about quitting right now.”

“Thank God,” Tara said.

Oh, God. Are they?
I wondered, glancing through the glass doors. It sucked not knowing what was going on in Daniel’s head. It sucked not being able to talk to him. Everything about this sucked.

“Real nice,” Sage said to Tara. “Even you have to admit that having them on the team completely elevated the level of this squad.”

“No, I don’t,” Tara said. Her face went from pink with exertion to red with anger in no time flat. “I don’t have to admit that. Are you guys forgetting where we were a month ago? We are national champions. National champions! And we did it without
them.
You can’t get much more elevated than that!”