The Winning Element (18 page)
I balled up my hand and knocked it hard, once, quick, with the side of my fist. It rattled the headboard.
Click.
The bed shifted a little.
The bed shifted a little.
Scrambling off the bed, I surveyed it from head to foot and back up again. Nothing appeared different.
I yanked off the pillows and covers and threw them onto the other bed. Lifting up the mattress, I peered beneath.
Nothing but a thin piece of plywood.
Huh.
I got down on my hands and knees and looked underneath the bed. Carpet, hair, dust, a suspicious stain, and one forgotten flip-flop. Nothing else.
With a sigh, I sat up and glanced over to the clock. I’d already been up here ten minutes. I needed to hurry up and figure this out and get down to the meeting.
Okay, think, GiGi, think. You’ve got 191 IQ points. Put them to work.
One bed with a hidden panel, one without. I knew I released the panel because I’d heard the click. And the bed shifted. So I had the correct bed. I hadn’t misunderstood Nalani.
One bed with a hidden panel, one without. I knew I released the panel because I’d heard the click. And the bed shifted. So I had the correct bed. I hadn’t misunderstood Nalani.
I glanced from the unmade, secret panel bed to the other one, and it hit me. Compare one with the other.
I lifted the mattress of the made bed and peeked underneath.
Bingo!
There was no plywood, just regular strips of wood supported its mattress.
Turning back to my bed, I wedged my fingers under the plywood and lifted to reveal a hidden compartment. Four trays set side by side as large as the king-size bed.
Audio and visual monitoring. TCVC cables, Socarmi recorders, Lome cameras, Wako lenses, Nociv monitors, and on and on and on.
Sweet. Top of the line. Every single thing from the equipment list.
Metal arms supported the plywood on both sides and held up the mattress. Locking the arms in the up position, I picked up a TCVC cable right as my phone vibrated. Yanking it from my pocket, I checked the encrypted display. Punching in my password, I decoded the message from TL.
TAKING ROLL. DOWN HERE. NOW.
I released the lock on the arms and brought the plywood back down. I banged the side of my fist into the fin and heard the click. I tried to lift the plywood just to make sure it was locked back in place. Sure enough, it didn’t budge.
Quickly, I spread all the covers and pillows back in place and then hurried from the room.
I zipped down the hall, cut through the ice machine alcove, then the stairs, and raced across the lobby. I caught Nalani’s eye with a where-do-I-go face. She discreetly pointed to a closed conference room door.
Quietly, I clicked it open and slipped inside. The coaches lined the back wall, and the cheer competitors sat in blue plastic chairs, filling the large room. The current America’s Cheer team stood across the front dressed in matching red-white-and-blue shorts and T-shirts.
The one with the microphone pointed to someone in the crowd. She didn’t look happy. “Get up.”
Every head in the room silently turned in that direction.
I searched the crowd, curious what was going on.
“You.” The microphone woman jabbed her finger. “In the red-and-white ribbon. Get up.”
Red-and-white ribbon? Oh, no.
“Now,” microphone lady echoed.
From the crowd, a dark-haired girl slowly stood.
Beaker.
[9]
Narrowing her eyes, the America’s Cheer team leader pointed across the crowd to Beaker. “Spit it out.”
Beaker lifted her brows, all innocent. “Spit what out?”
The team leader buried her lips in the microphone. “The gum.”
Throughout the crowd, cheerleaders gasped.
I rolled my eyes.
Beaker delicately cleared her throat. “I don’t have any gum.”
Team leader crooked her finger. “Come here.”
Beaker inched her way past the other cheerleaders sitting in her row and out into the aisle. Whispers trickled through the crowd as she walked down to the front. In unison, the current America’s Cheer team authoritatively shook their heads at her.
This was ridiculous.
The team leader pinched Beaker’s chin. “Open up.”
Beaker did.
Pursing her lips, the team leader inspected Beaker’s mouth. “Tongue.”
She lifted her tongue.
Letting go of Beaker’s chin, the team leader turned toward the crowd. “Who in here saw this competitor with gum?”
Almost everyone’s hand went up.
Come on, people.
The team leader turned back to Beaker. “Clearly, you have swallowed it. Give me three times around the room. The cheer is ’G-U-M. Gum makes me look like a bum.’ ” The team leader leaned in. “And make it look good, or you’re going to do it again.”
Beaker’s jaw clenched, and I could almost visualize the steam shooting from her ears.
I glanced down the row of people with me along the back wall. Stoically, TL stood near the end, keeping his gaze glued on Beaker.
His concentrated expression reminded me of the Rissala mission. He’d taught me how to send supportive, mental energy to Wirenut.
I know. It sounds weird. But it really works.
I turned my attention back to Beaker at the front and focused all my brain cells on sending her you-can-do-this vibes.
Inch by inch her cheeks crept upward into a gigantic, face-splitting grin. She took off around the room, clapping and jogging. "G-U-M! Gum makes me look like a bum!”
She circled around the back, came right past me, and didn’t even spare me a glance.
I bet she hated me right now. Thanks to me and my friendly gum, she was running laps.
Beaker went down the room’s other side and back across the front. "G-U-M! Gum makes me look like a bum!”
Some of the girls sarcastically clapped with her; others snickered. A few started bee-bopping in their chairs.
How would they feel if they were the ones put on the spot? I bet they wouldn’t find it so entertaining then.
Beaker circled three complete times, smiling as she jogged, clapped, and chanted. She didn’t look at me once.
She trotted to a stop back at the front and went straight into a back handspring. She came out of it and into a liberty, with her right foot on the inside of her left knee and her arms straight up. “Go, America’s Cheer!”
And make it look good, or you’re going to do it again.
Beaker’s handspring definitely made it look good.
The America’s Cheer team did matching liberties. “Go, America’s Cheer!”
Everyone in the crowd hopped to their feet. “Go, America’s Cheer!”
And then the place broke into wild applause. They were like possessed, brain-washed cheerleaders.
You
will
be obnoxiously excited. You
will
snicker and make fun of others. You
will
spell everything you say.
will
be obnoxiously excited. You
will
snicker and make fun of others. You
will
spell everything you say.
I smiled. Sometimes I really amused myself.
The cheering died down, and everyone took their seats again.
The team leader brought the microphone back to her mouth. “Okay. Let’s finish taking roll, then we’ll briefly go over the schedule and break for lunch.”
Quickly, she went through the list, hitting my name a fourth of the way down and Beaker’s a little after.
After she finished, the team leader shuffled some papers. “Each of you has a schedule in your registration packets. That schedule could change, depending on various things. You will be notified immediately of any changes. You are expected to be prompt for meals. Breakfast at seven, lunch at noon, dinner at five. All mornings are reserved for physical fitness and learning new routines. Afternoons are for run-throughs, team practice, and meetings. Evenings will be group functions. All contestants are expected to attend everything. Any absences mean points deducted from your team’s final score.”
On and on she went, seeming to fill every minute of every day. I didn’t know how we would find time to do the things we needed to do for our mission.
“Dismissed,” the team leader announced without asking for questions.
Girls filed passed me as I hung back, waiting for Beaker and TL.
“I’ll have some juice, but that’s it. I weighed in two pounds too heavy this morning.”
“This bra is driving me nuts.”
“Oh my
God
! My ribbon broke!”
God
! My ribbon broke!”
“Good thing nobody saw the gum in
my
mouth.”
my
mouth.”
“Hi!” Jessy and Lessy waved as they passed me.
I waved back.
With Beaker behind him, TL grabbed my arm and kept right on going out the door. We cut off from the lunch line, down a hallway, and around a corner.
He glanced around to make sure we were alone and let go of my arm. He did not look happy. Pulling the blue pyramid from his pocket, he rotated it on. “Where were you?”
“I-I was in my room looking at the equipment.”
“You are always,
always
to inform me of where you are and what you are doing.” His jaw hardened. “Do we understand each other?”
always
to inform me of where you are and what you are doing.” His jaw hardened. “Do we understand each other?”
"Y-yes, sir.” But I thought this was
my
mission. I thought
I
was the one leading.
my
mission. I thought
I
was the one leading.
“You designed this mission,” he continued, “but it doesn’t mean you act on your own accord. I am the one who is ultimately in charge. I have to know where you are at all times. What if something had happened? What if something had gone wrong? What if someone from home base had contacted me and wanted to know your whereabouts? I can’t say ‘I don’t know.’ How do you think that would make me look? Us look?”
I hadn’t thought about it like that. I swallowed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you to let you know I was going back to the room.”
TL took a step back. “I’m not saying you can’t make your own decisions. I’m saying you
must
keep me informed of your locale. ”
must
keep me informed of your locale. ”
TL turned to Beaker. “Or
you
should’ve told me. We’re a team. We work as a unit.”
you
should’ve told me. We’re a team. We work as a unit.”
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