Cheerleading Can Be Murder (Horror High #1) (8 page)

Chapter

Twenty-Two

As though this day had not been filled with enough surprises, Mr. Thompson sprung us with a pop quiz in Spanish. Considering the fact that tryouts were today, I’d spent very little time studying Spanish this week, or any other subjects for that matter. For the quiz, we had to conjugate a list of ten verbs. I struggled with a few of the irregular ones, but lucky for me, I took Spanish in middle school, so I could still recall some of the verbs that I’d learned previously.

Next was Phys Ed. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing anyone in that class—Ronnie, Genevieve, Amanda, or Sydney. Honestly, I was ready for the day to be over. I needed to get through tryouts so I could head home to take a long, much needed nap.

When Ms. Lancioni announced that we were going outside today to run on the track, I was overcome with joy. If any of those four came near me, I’d simply run away from them.

But I couldn’t avoid Sydney for long, and she caught up with me on my second lap. “I thought everything was cool between us last night. Why are you acting mad at me all of a sudden?” She tried to match my pace. I halted and started jogging in place so Ms. Lancioni wouldn’t yell at me for slacking off.

“I don’t really want to get into this with you right now,” I warned her.

“Get into
what
?” There was a trace of annoyance in her voice.

“I know you went and told Genevieve about Amanda and Ronnie. I know that you, or one of Tasha’s minions, wrote that note with my signature on it. And I also know what you guys did to Amanda’s grandma’s house.”

“What note?” Sydney was biting her lower lip nervously. Out of all the things I’d just said, the only thing that confused her was the part about the note?
That’s a telling sign.

“So, then I guess you’re admitting that you told Tasha and Genevieve, and what you all did to that poor old lady! You’re just lucky you didn’t get shot, Sydney!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she declared defensively. She turned away huffily and jogged away from me down the track.

“Good riddance!” I shouted after her.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

When I walked into Study Hall, I was still reeling from the news that Andy had given me at lunch. I couldn’t believe he was on the varsity basketball team! I wondered how well he knew Ronnie.
Ugh
. I pushed
that
thought aside and slid into my seat in the back.

All I had to do was make it through this class and then I could finally go to tryouts. This is what I’d been waiting for all week long. My whole life, actually…

Even though I was bummed about my fights with Amanda and Sydney, I felt confident about tryouts. I was ready to do the group and individual routines. Because of Teresa’s “accident,” we had to eliminate the stunt at the end altogether. Although that meant the routine was slightly easier for my group, it made me a little worried because I wouldn’t get to showcase my lifting skills like the other two groups. We had decided to end the routine with a simple set of toe touches. It wasn’t our fault that Teresa couldn’t perform, so I didn’t think Coach Davis would hold it against us.

Actually, the alterations to the routine were
somebody’s
fault, I thought, looking over at Brittani. I narrowed my eyes at her. She was sitting two rows over from me, and was busy fixing her makeup for tryouts. I pulled out my own compact mirror and a small tube of glitter. I smoothed lotion onto my face and waited several minutes for it to dry. Then I squeezed some glitter onto my finger and started dabbing it onto my cheek bones.

I’d never been very good at putting on makeup, and when it came to applying glitter, I always struggled with putting it on my eyelids. I dug a cotton swab out of my makeup bag and tried using it to put the glitter on my eyes without any clumping. My hands were shaky, probably because I was nervous about tryouts.

After I’d finished, I held up the mirror to see how well I’d done. My eyes were a clumpy disaster. I groaned, pulling out a pack of wet wipes and Kleenex to wipe it off. “Please let me help,” Brittani purred, plopping down backwards in the chair in front of me. We were face to face, and I shuddered. I couldn’t help it; she gave me the creeps.

“I don’t want any more of your
help
,” I said, clutching my eye, which now had a piece of glitter inside it.
Ouch!
Brittani unzipped her makeup bag, and leaned forward with a wet wipe, helping me remove the makeup. Then she applied a thin coat of eye shadow primer by Urban Decay.

“What color is the outfit you’re wearing?” She studied my face intently.

“Purple,” I grumbled.

She took out an awesome eye shadow palette with a range of glittery violet shades. She smoothed it on with steady hands, then dabbed more glitter across each lid. When she held up the mirror for me to see the result, I had to admit it looked great. It pained me to say it, but I did anyway. “Thank you, Brittani.” I choked out the words.

For the next ten minutes, I couldn’t take my eyes off the clock. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the second hand approached its destination. I could almost hear the sound of its ticking reverberating in my head. Just when I couldn’t stand the wait one second longer, the bell rang. Show time!

Chapter

Twenty-Four

I quickly changed into my purple leotard and shorts, then made my way over to my seat on the bench. The bench was already full with the other hopefuls, and everyone seemed to be sitting next to their respective group members. I took a seat next to Amanda. I tried to catch her eye to wish her luck, but she was staring straight ahead at the padded walls, her lips pursed nervously. She was wearing a sparkly, rainbow-colored leotard. She looked fabulous.

Sydney was sitting at the other end of the bench. Unsurprisingly, she was sitting next to Genevieve and Tasha. She too looked great in a stretchy red sports top and matching shorts that we’d picked out together weeks ago. That trip to the mall seemed so long ago. Now we were barely speaking…

Mariella Martin was wearing a sequin-covered, green leotard that looked nothing short of perfect in conjunction with her bright red hair. Genevieve and Tasha were wearing matching two-piece outfits that basically looked like slutty bathing suits.
Yuck.

But the award for strangest outfit had to go to Brittani. She was wearing cotton-fibered shorts over a stretchy leotard covered in pictures of small kittens. “I love kittens,” she said defensively, when one of the girls rudely asked why she’d picked it.

The other girls—Tally, Monika, and Ashleigh—were wearing similar variations to the rest of us. Our outfits may have been different, but our expressions were the same—every single one of us looked nervous.

When Coach Davis walked in, I think all of us were holding our breaths. She took a few minutes to get the music for the routines ready, and then she took a seat in a plastic straight-backed chair that gave her a perfect view of the center gym floor.

“The first group who will do their routine is Group Three,” she announced, glancing down at a notepad on her lap. She made a few scribbles with a red ink pen. Seeing her there with that notepad was downright intimidating, and hearing my group number called first was not something I’d expected.

However, I jumped to my feet enthusiastically, and followed my two group members out to the middle of the floor.

Since Teresa was no longer in our group, I took my spot in the center, while Amanda and Brittani stood across from each other, forming a row behind me. I placed my hands on my hips and took a deep breath, waiting for the music to begin. Coach Davis did a three count, and then she pressed play on the compact disc player.

The steps to the routine came easily, and I performed them just as I had in practice. Only this time it was the real thing! I stayed on rhythm with the music and hit my jumps perfectly, all the while keeping a smile on my face. At the end, the other girls on the bench clapped with muted enthusiasm. Coach Davis gave us a curt nod, making several notes on her pad. I wished I knew what she was thinking, but I honestly had no clue since she didn’t offer us any feedback.

“Group one, you’re up!” she called next, looking toward Tasha on the bench. The next group took their places in the center floor, while my group took a relieved seat on the bench. Tasha and Genevieve were standing in the back of the formation, while Sydney and Ashleigh made up the front. Even though I was mad at Sydney, I couldn’t help rooting for her. I wanted my best friend to succeed. I crossed my fingers behind my back, watching anxiously from the bench.

Just like when it was my group’s turn, Coach Davis did a three count and turned the music on. Immediately, I realized that something was very wrong with their routine. Tasha and Genevieve seemed to be doing the steps perfectly, their movements the same as my group had just done and we’d all learned. But Sydney and Ashleigh were in the front, doing their own separate routine. The moves they performed were childlike and unflattering.

Several girls on the bench snickered. I covered my face with my hands, unable to watch the train wreck unfolding before me. But I couldn’t help it; I had to peek to see what was going on.

As I watched Sydney perform the wrong motions, it suddenly occurred to me why Genevieve and Tasha had been keeping Sydney and Ashleigh isolated from everyone else. They had obviously been teaching them the wrong routine!

Obviously, they wanted to sabotage Sydney and Ashleigh’s chances of making the squad. If Sydney and I hadn’t been fighting this week, we would have been practicing at home together, and she would have figured out the routine she had learned was incorrect. Sydney thought that Tasha and her buddies wanted to be her friends, but she was dead wrong.

At the end of their routine, Genevieve and Tasha grinned at each other mischievously, shooting knowing glances at their pals, Tally and Mariella on the bench. This whole thing was obviously a set up.

“Sydney and Ashleigh! Is that the routine you were taught by your team leader, Tasha?” Coach Davis jumped to her feet angrily. Sydney’s smile faded, replaced with a look of confusion. I suppose she thought each group had their own version of the group cheer because she still didn’t seem to realize what was going on. She looked around at her team members questioningly.

“Hey, it’s not my fault those two couldn’t learn the steps! I showed them the routine a million times! And Genevieve mastered the routine just fine,” Tasha whined. She looked over at Genevieve, a devilish grin spreading across her face.

Coach Davis walked across the floor, stopping inches away from Tasha’s face. “I know you orchestrated this, Tasha. It was
your
job to lead these girls, not
mis
lead them by teaching them the wrong routine!”

Everyone on the bench stiffened at the sound of the Coach’s voice. Her face was beet red, and I’d never seen her look so angry. “I’m sorry, Coach,” Tasha said, a sickeningly fake, apologetic smile on her face.

“I want you out of here! You are cut from the tryouts!” Coach shouted, surprising us all as she pointed a finger at the exit doors of the gym.

No one was more surprised than Tasha herself. Her jaw nearly hit the floor.

“But…”

“No buts. Out!” Coach Davis commanded.

Tasha looked around at her sidekicks, as though she actually expected someone to come to her defense. Throwing up her hands in disgust, she strolled over to the sidelines to retrieve her bag and stomped noisily out of the gym.

During the whole ordeal, I hadn’t moved an inch. I was still in shock. The infamous head T of the Triple Ts was no longer in the running for the varsity squad. I didn’t think any of us could have predicted that, not in our wildest dreams! With her out of the running, and Teresa out due to injury, my chances of actually making the team were looking better and better…but I did feel bad for Sydney.

Everyone on the bench started talking all at once. Coach Davis put an end to that. “Is this a gossip session or do you girls want to try out for this squad?” she shouted, instantly shushing us all. “Next group!”

Tally, Monika, and Mariella got into position and started their routine when the music sounded. This time, everyone completed the same routine, thankfully. As I watched Monika and Tally walk back to the bench, I realized they were the only two left of the original squad. I honestly couldn’t believe my luck!

Coach Davis began calling our names one at a time to perform the individual cheer. I was glad not to be first this time. Ashleigh was the first to have a turn. Although I was hoping she would do well because this was her junior year, she did make a few mistakes. Brittani went second and was followed by Tally, Mariella, Amanda, and Monika. Everyone seemed to perform well.

Then I heard my name. I walked to the center of the floor, facing Coach Davis again. I smiled confidently and performed the cheer without any mistakes. Genevieve and Sydney were the last to go, and their routines were flawless as well.
I have absolutely no idea who’s going to make it
, I realized.

“Girls, please take a seat!” Coach Davis called out. Those who were not sitting already quickly made their way to their seats. Coach Davis stood in front of us, her arms clasped behind her back. “I want to congratulate all of you on a job well done. I wish I could choose all of you, but we only have six sets of uniforms and pompoms,” she admitted, sounding nice and apologetic for the first time all week. “I will spend some time thinking about my decision over the weekend. The names of the six girls who make it will be announced over the intercom at some point during the day on Monday. The girls who do make it, please stay after school on Monday and meet me in the gym to pick up your pompoms and get fitted for your cheerleading uniforms. Thanks to all of you for trying out. You are dismissed!”