Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (19 page)

In that split second, Jocelyn tosses me a glance that I think could maybe kill. Then she gives me and everyone else the old middle-finger salute, grabs the pieces of her uniform, and like a flash (or a flasher?) tears out of there, running past the entire football team lined up and ready for the announcer to begin. But they just laugh and wave at her as if they’re enjoying the entertainment too.

Falon is the only cheerleader who isn’t laughing. She’s not even smiling. She looks shocked and angry and I can tell we’re in trouble. The announcer makes a comment about cheerleading outfits not being as sturdy as they used to be, eliciting another good laugh from the audience, and then he starts announcing the players.

With only seven girls now, Falon makes an adjustment in our lineup for the yells and routines. Being tallest, she takes the center, putting the shorter girls on the ends. No one argues with her. It would be pointless. It feels like it’s going to be a long night.

Fortunately, things seem to get back to normal by halftime. Oh, people are still talking about the “stripper” cheerleader. And Jocelyn never does come back. Falon says, “That’s fine, because if she did come back, I’d send her home anyway. She broke her contract.” This makes me feel bad, since it’s not really her fault. I mean, sure, she should’ve watched her mouth. But I feel guilty about helping to sabotage her. I know that was wrong. And it takes a lot of the fun out of the game for me.

I’m a little surprised when Kendra is crowned homecoming queen. Oh, I knew she had a good chance, but I actually thought Falon was going to win. I overhear someone saying that Kendra got the sympathy vote because she didn’t make cheerleader this year. I’m wondering what kind of vote she would’ve gotten if everyone knew she was behind what happened to Jocelyn tonight. Or maybe they wouldn’t care. They did seem pretty entertained by the whole thing.

I can’t admit this to anyone, but I don’t really care when our team loses the game. In some ways, I think we deserve it. But I pretend to be bummed, just like everyone else. I just want to go home and forget this night.

“You are coming to the dance, aren’t you?” asks Kendra as we’re gathering our stuff.

“Oh, sure,” I tell her, although I’d rather not go.

“Good.” She gets close to my ear now. “Because I just told Jonathan that I wanted to hang with you and him and Logan tonight, and he seemed to like that idea. He’s going to talk to Logan.”

“Cool,” I tell her, forcing a bright smile. But as I take my gear out to my car, I’m thinking I should feel a whole lot happier than this right now. I mean, here I am, barely one month at my new school, and I made varsity cheerleader, I have a cute and popular guy who really seems to like me, and my almost-best friend is homecoming queen, rich, and beautiful. Really, isn’t that about as good as it gets?

Instead, I feel totally miserable. What is wrong with me?

D
ESPITE FEELING TORN AND GUILTY, AND UNABLE TO GET RID OF THAT IMAGE
of Jocelyn’s face tonight, I put on a good show when I get to the dance. I’m sure no one could possibly suspect that I’m feeling so bummed. After a while, my mood begins to change. I lighten up and before long, I’m actually having fun. Jonathan is a good dancer and I can tell he likes me, and I think I want to get to know him better. Kendra is sort of playing hard to get with Logan, which seems to be working for her. She takes turns dancing with several guys, including Jonathan, but during the last few dances, Logan moves solidly in and takes control. By the end of the evening, Kendra seems happy.

As I drive home, I wonder if she feels any guilt for what happened to Jocelyn tonight. I also wonder how it will all pan out. Knowing Jocelyn, she probably won’t take this lying down. I’m not sure if it’s that red hair or something else, but I know the girl is a scrapper. And I’m guessing tomorrow’s barbecue will be interesting.

***

As usual, Mom is working even though it’s Saturday. She actually offered to stay home and help with the barbecue, but I assured her that I’d be fine and that Kendra would be here before too long. Kendra offered to handle all the food today. At first I said, “No, that’s too much.” But she insisted. “That’s what friends are for,” she assured me last weekend. And then I agreed.

“I hope to get back to a normal work schedule in a month or so,” Mom told me as she left this morning. I nodded, although I seriously doubt this. Among other things, I’m pretty sure my mom is a workaholic. I remember hearing Nana say that word once, back when I was too little to understand the meaning. But now I get it. And I think it’s true.

“Everything looks very nice,” says Kendra as she helps me to get things ready for our guests. “Your mom has good taste in interior design.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, but I know she’s just being nice. I’ve seen her house and it’s like something out of
Architectural Digest,
a magazine I’ve only seen at the doctor’s office.

“Do you think Jocelyn will come today?” She slides a big bowl of some really scrumptious-looking potato salad into the fridge. Her caterer made it, as well as a bunch of other things.

“I have no idea,” I say as I set one of her boxes on the counter. “But I know she’s a fighter and I sort of think she’ll make an appearance.”

Kendra laughs. “That was so funny last night. I think I’ll be laughing about it for weeks to come.”

“Too bad she had on such ugly underwear,” I say, then wish I hadn’t.

Kendra laughs even louder. “Well, at least they weren’t granny panties. That would’ve been really bad.” She pulls out an apron that says Kiss the Cook and ties it on. Then she takes out a goofy-looking chef’s hat and puts it on. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take care of the barbecuing.”

“Really?” I can’t believe my luck. “You’d do that?”

“I would for you, sweetie.” Now she frowns. “Unless you think the others will mind me being here. I am, after all, just an alternate.”

“I don’t think anyone will mind. Well, except maybe Falon, but she’s outnumbered.”

“Jocelyn might mind.”

I shrug. “I have a feeling Jocelyn will have her sights set on me today.”

“Then you’ll need me here for moral support.”

So it’s settled. Kendra is staying. And I can’t believe how much better this makes me feel. Especially when Jocelyn arrives thirty minutes early. She stands at my front door with her ruined cheerleader uniform in her hand and the angriest expression I have ever seen on her face. Seriously, if the girl was armed, I’d think this was about to turn into a Lifetime movie.

“Why did you do this?” she asks in a voice that is seething with anger.

“I didn’t
do
that,” I say, opening the door wider so she can come in. Of course, this could be a mistake. Maybe I should slam the door shut and lock it. But between Kendra and me, we should be able to keep this girl in line.

“Oh, hi, Jocelyn,” calls Kendra from the kitchen. “Want a soda? I’ve got these really great organic — ”

“No, I do not want a soda,”
snaps Jocelyn. She glares at Kendra. “Man, you don’t even wait until the body’s cold, do you?”

“What?” Kendra gives her an innocent look.

“Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t hear the news.”

“What news?”

“Falon called me this morning to tell me that I’m on probation.” Kendra shrugs. “Well, that’s not much of a surprise, is it? I mean, you obviously broke the contract last night, in front of like hundreds of people too.”

Jocelyn holds out the uniform, shaking it in front of us. Then she turns to me. “I
know
you did this, Reagan.”

I hold up my hands in a helpless gesture. “Did
what
?”

“You messed with my uniform.”

I just shake my head and look her straight in the eyes. “I swear to you, Jocelyn, I did not mess with your uniform. All I did was deliver it to you. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“Yeah,” says Kendra. “That’s not very nice to accuse Reagan of something like that, Jocelyn. Your alterations person obviously needs to go back to sewing school.” She sort of laughs. “Although how she ever shrunk that giant uniform down to a small size seemed nothing short of miraculous. Well, until it fell apart.”

“You expect me to believe the alterations person did this?” She shakes the uniform under Kendra’s nose.

Kendra steps back, stands up straighter. “What other explanation could there be?”

Jocelyn points to me. “She did it. And I know why she did it.” She points at Kendra now. “For you. Admit it. You’re both in on this.”

I actually put my hand on Jocelyn’s shoulder now, a little trick I’ve picked up from Kendra. “Look, Jocelyn, I swear to you that I did nothing to your uniform. I was at Nana’s nursing home all afternoon. Sheesh, you could even go over there and ask if you don’t believe me. Don’t ask Nana, since her memory’s pretty bad. But you could ask at the front desk. You could look at the book. I signed in.”

Jocelyn narrows her eyes and looks directly at me. “You swear you didn’t do this?”

I hold up my hand. “I swear!”

Jocelyn cusses now.

“Hey, girlfriend,” warns Kendra, “you’re going to have to clean up that potty mouth if you want to keep being a cheerleader.”

“Forget it!” she yells. “I’m finished. It’s not worth it.” She’s on the verge of tears now. “I can’t afford another uniform, and this one will never work.” She looks at Kendra, then at me. “I’m sick of cheerleading.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping to sound as sincere as I actually feel, because I really am sorry.

She looks at me with watery eyes. “You really didn’t do this?”

“No, I didn’t.”

She nods sadly. “I didn’t really think you could be that mean.” Then she turns like she’s going to leave.

“Aren’t you staying for the barbecue?”

She sort of laughs. “Are you kidding?”

“Come on,” urges Kendra. “Stay. We have a ton of food. Just stay. You’ll feel better if you do.”

She turns and faces us. Tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “Falon told me that probation means I don’t do
anything
with the cheerleaders for two whole weeks. No practices, no games, no uniform, no barbecue, nothing. Not that it matters, since I really do plan to quit. I’m so done with this.”

I go over to her now and actually hug her. “I’m sorry, Jocelyn.”

She wipes her nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Yeah, whatever.”

Then she leaves and the kitchen gets very quiet. If this is a victory it sure doesn’t feel like it. I wonder if Kendra feels as guilty as I do.

“Wow,” she finally says. “I honestly didn’t think Jocelyn would give up
that
easily.”

I shake my head. “Me neither.”

“Do you think that was for real?”

I just shrug.

“Or is this just a setup?” Kendra gets a troubled brow.

I sigh loudly. “I don’t know. But I’m sure tired of it — I’m tired of all this crud — all this meanness. It takes the fun out of everything.”

“Why don’t you put some music on,” suggests Kendra. “It might lighten things up. And you better start getting the table outside ready. Put the paper plates and napkins out. And, oh yeah, I’ve got a bouquet of flowers in the back of my car you can get. I’ll take care of things in here.”

I look at Kendra, standing over the sink wearing the apron and funny hat, and it’s hard to really envision her as the mean girl. She looks more like a pretty clown at the moment. And yet …

“I do feel bad for Jocelyn,” she says in a quiet tone, as if she’s been reading my thoughts.

“You do?”

She nods. “But maybe it’s for the best.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Then I go out and set the table.

The cheerleaders start arriving and my spirits begin to lift. I try to push thoughts of Jocelyn out of my head, but it’s not easy since she’s pretty much the hot topic of the day. They can’t quit talking about her performance last night. I don’t mention to anyone that she was just here.

“And what are
you
doing here?” Falon questions Kendra when she finds her out on the patio, turning hamburgers and hotdogs on the gas grill. Everyone gets pretty quiet now, waiting for Kendra to answer.

But Kendra just makes a small bow. “Last night’s queen is today’s galley slave. I am here only to serve.” Several people snicker.