The Winning Element (15 page)
A bellman stood on each side of the hotel’s entranceway. As we approached, they opened the glass-and-gold doors. “Welcome,” they greeted in unison, bowing.
I couldn’t recall ever having been bowed to before.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, a bit uncomfortable with this royal treatment.
Odd, but this whole place seemed like a foreign country, not a little island off the coast of south Florida right here in good old America.
A slight nudge from TL made me move forward. We crossed through a marbled-floor waiting area. Two more bellmen opened two more glass-and-gold doors. Beaker and I stepped through them and came to an abrupt stop.
In stunned amazement, we stared at hundreds of girls.
Everywhere.
Boinging and bouncing.
Squealing and giggling.
Cheering and chanting.
Tall, short. Skinny, muscular. Blondes, redheads, brunettes. Ponytails, braids.
Wearing a variety of shorts and T-shirts with matching ribbons in their hair.
I’d never seen so many happy, excited, color-coordinated girls in my life.
“Hey!” A dark-haired girl jumped right into our faces.
Beaker and I flinched.
“Isn’t this just great?!” she squeaked.
I blinked. Was that voice for real?
“Well, isn’t it?!” Her long, brown ponytail swung with her bubbly jostling.
TL put a hand on Beaker’s and my shoulders and came up between us. “Yes, it is.” He grinned. “You’re having way too much fun without us.”
The girl giggled.
TL hugged us to him. “Where do we check in?”
The girl snapped her arm straight, pointing across the lobby to the front desk. “Give me an R! Right! Give me T! There!” She spun around and skipped off.
“She could’ve just said ‘right there,’ ” Beaker grumbled.
“Stay in character,” TL whispered and headed toward the front desk through the mass of exuberant girls.
I looked at Beaker, she looked at me, and we both plastered the biggest, fakest smiles on our faces.
With a light spring to our steps, we followed TL across the lobby.
“Hi!” A girl as tall as me bopped up in my face. I stepped back a bit.
“Hi!” Beaker and I greeted her simultaneously. I almost laughed.
The girl’s brown eyes widened as she took in Beaker. “Oh my
God
! I
love
your ribbon!”
God
! I
love
your ribbon!”
Beaker’s smile became even smilier, if possible. “Thanks!”
The tall girl slammed her hand over her heart. “I
love
how you tied it around your neck. And I
love
how it has little tiny red and white stripes.”
love
how you tied it around your neck. And I
love
how it has little tiny red and white stripes.”
Beaker kept cheesing it up, but I knew that underneath lurked her trademark smirk. I could only imagine what was going through her mind right now.
Someone kill this girl and put her out of her misery. No, someone kill me and put me out of my misery.
“Hi!” Another girl danced up.
“Hi!” Beaker and I greeted her.
I wondered how many times I’d have to say ‘Hi!’ over the next few days.
I purposefully dropped my jaw. “I
love
your T-shirts.”
love
your T-shirts.”
“Thanks!” They answered in unison.
They pointed to their boobs and the green-on-pink lettering stretched across them. “Cheerleaders
are
better athletes!” they agreed with their shirts.
are
better athletes!” they agreed with their shirts.
Beaker and I nodded, and I racked my brain for what else I could say.
I love your matching green-and-pink shorts.
I love your matching green shoes with pink socks.
I love your sparkly pink eye shadow.
“Girls,” TL called, rescuing me from the dilemma.
“That’s our coach. Gotta go. ’Bye!” I gave a quick wave.
“’Bye!” They waved back.
With our huge smiles still in place, we wove through the other joyful girls to the front desk and TL.
He grinned. “Here they are. The next two members of America’s Cheer.”
“We’re glad to have you,” the woman on the other side of the counter welcomed us.
Nalani.
Showing no recognition of us, she handed Beaker and me each a big white envelope and card key. “Inside you’ll find everything you need. Event schedule, mealtimes, workouts . . . If you need anything while staying here at Hotel Marquess, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
I glanced at TL to see if I could recognize a hint of love, pain, sorrow, or longing. But I saw nothing except the same fake I’m-so-happy-to-be-here face.
“Unfortunately,” Nalani continued, “the room you had been preassigned to is still occupied by yesterday’s visitors.”
My face dropped a little.
“They decided to stay an additional day. But they’ve scheduled an early checkout for tomorrow, so we’ll have things ironed out in no time.”
I glanced at TL, but he was still smiling as if this bit of information was no big deal.
“We’ll put you in another room for tonight and then relocate you to your preassigned room in the morning.” Nalani pointed down a marble-floored hallway. “Elevators are there. You’re in room three-zero-three. I’ll let the bellman know where to take your luggage.”
TL knuckle-tapped the counter. “Let’s go, girls.”
Sounds from the lobby faded as we strode down the hall to the elevators. TL pressed the button, and we stood waiting. I was dying to ask him what was going on.
Seconds later, the elevator dinged open and out poured a pack of bubbly girls.
“Hi!” A few of them chirped.
“Hi!” A few more echoed.
“Hi!” Beaker and I returned, our grins in place.
They shuffled by, and we three stepped inside. The door slid closed, and Beaker’s smile fell away.
“Ack.” She grabbed her throat. “I think I’m going to hurl. This is my worst nightmare come true. Hi!” she sarcastically imitated them. “My name’s Pixy, and I don’t have a cell in my brain. But I know how to do a toe touch. Woo.”
I turned to TL. “What’s going on? If we don’t get in our room tonight, that means we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to access the equip—”
TL cleared his throat and shook his head. He brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder.
Stay in character.
Stay in character.
I sighed.
Beaker slumped back against the elevator wall. “I need gum,” she grumbled.
TL cleared his throat again, and Beaker rolled her eyes up to his.
He brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder.
Stay in character.
He narrowed his gaze ever so slightly.
Or else.
He rubbed his eye.
Camera watching.
Stay in character.
He narrowed his gaze ever so slightly.
Or else.
He rubbed his eye.
Camera watching.
Smoothing my fingers down my ponytail, I surreptitiously glanced up. Sure enough, in the upper-left corner sat a mini-camera hidden in a speaker. From David’s hotel specs, I should’ve known that, but in my momentary frustration, I’d forgotten.
Reluctantly, Beaker pushed away from the elevator wall. Her scowl inched upward into her rendition of a pleasant face.
The elevator dinged open, and we stepped out. We read the number sign and took a left. Room three-zero-three sat halfway down the hallway.
TL followed us in and shut the door. “Don’t worry about the room.”
“I know, but I wanted to get a start on figuring out the equipment and reviewing the plans,” I said.
“Well, things happen, and plans need to change. We can’t control what others do. We’ll get you moved into the correct room tomorrow. We’ll be a little behind schedule, but not too bad. There’s nothing on the cheerleading schedule until tomorrow, so feel free to order room service if you want.” He opened our door. “I’m in room three-twelve. See you tomorrow.”
"B-Y-E. Bye,” Beaker mumbled.
“I heard that,” TL called.
He closed the door, and I set my laptop down. “This sucks.”
“Yeah, but, oh well. Nothing we can do about it.”
Logic told me she was right. But it still sucked.
Tossing down the rest of my stuff, I looked around. A bathroom lay immediately to the left of the door and was decorated with the same gold-and-marble design of the lobby. The shower and toilet each had its own separate little room. Pretty cool.
Farther inside, two king-size beds occupied the majority of the room, decorated with burgundy-and-white comforters and pillows. A long shark had been engraved on each headboard, and, as Nalani said, the fin would release the hidden compartment—in the correct room, of course.
A deluxe wood desk sat in the corner with a brown leather chair in front.
Gauzy curtains covered a medium-size window that looked out over the sun-sparkling ocean.
Matching the color scheme, standard hotel carpet covered the floor.
All in all, it was a great room.
Beaker flopped across the bed closest to the window. “I haven’t even been here an hour and my jaw already hurts from smiling.”
Mine did, too, actually.
Unzipping the front pocket of my backpack, I pulled out a pack of gum. “Here.”
Beaker eyed it warily. “What is it?”
I lifted my brows. “Gum. What do you think it is? Poison?”
She gave me a skeptical look. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Rolling my eyes, I tossed it onto her bed. “Because I’m a nice person.”
Beaker snorted, and I turned away, busying myself by reading the Barracuda Key pamphlets on the desk.
Behind me, a wrapper crinkled, and I smiled.
TL and David had done the same thing for me on my first mission, giving me lollipops when I least expected it. It’d always made me feel cozy, comforted, and, well . . . loved.
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