Ann Martin - Stacey And The Cheerleaders

The rest of the girls burst out laughing.

"Don't be nasty, Corinne," Margie scolded.

"I know what you mean, though," Penny said in a condescending voice. "She does hang around them all the time."

"No, seriously," Corinne insisted. "She learned the dance routine from that sixth-grader she hangs around with. Remember — Jessi?"

"From Jessi?" Penny said. "No way. She's too young. Where could she have learned to dance like that? Sesame Street?"

"Well, wherever Stacey learned it," Margie replied, "she sure can move. And she's pretty and smart. Plus she's got a strong voice."

"7 think she'd be a great cheerleader," Margie said. *

"Yeah," Penny agreed.

"Uh-huh," Darcy murmured. "Better than you."

"Stop," Penny protested.

"I hate to say it," Margie chimed in, "but she's better than all of us."

I thought I was going to scream with joy. I could just picture myself in a cheerleader outfit. I squeezed the toilet paper roll with all my might to keep from bursting.

"She seems pretty nice," Darcy remarked. "Do you guys know her well?"

"Sheila knows her best," Penny replied. "She likes her."

"So does Robert," Margie added.

"Is she lucky," Darcy said.

Corinne exhaled loudly. "You guys, don't get me started. You're doing this on purpose."

"Oh, please, Corinne," Darcy replied.

"Here we go again," muttered Margie.

"You are so insensitive!" Corinne complained. "I have feelings, you know. And I've got news for you. If it weren't for Little Miss Baby-sitter, Robert and I would still be going out. She had to come along with her bouncy-bouncy hair, and now I've lost him!"

Penny laughed. "Corinne, you never had him!"

"Shows how much you know!" Corinne shot back.

"Uh, can we change the subject, please?"

Darcy said. "Save the fighting for after school, hmmrn?"

Clatter, clatter, clickety-click went the makeup kits as the room quieted down.

Bouncy-bouncy hair? I had never heard that one. The nerve!

Soon the girls began talking again. The topic switched from makeup to clothes to the members of the basketball team.

I listened with half an ear. Despite what Corinne had said about me, I couldn't help but feel excited. The girls liked my routine. They said I'd be a good cheerleader. I heard it with my own ears.

I sat tight, struggling to keep my excitement in. I waited for the girls to leave, counted to a hundred, and opened the stall door.

When I walked out of the girls' room, I wore a huge smile on my face. My hair was bouncing, and I was glad. My stomach was as calm as could be.

Chapter 14.

"Attention, please. Will all girls who made the final callback for the cheerleading squad please meet at the gym at the beginning of eighth-grade lunch period. "

The announcement came at the end of homeroom on Friday. I had to grab my desk. I thought I'd melt and slide to the floor.

I didn't dare look back at Sheila. We had agreed early in the week not to talk about the tryouts. I didn't want to spend the morning analyzing whatever facial expression I'd see if I turned around.

When the bell rang, I headed straight for the door.

I met Robert in the hallway on the way to my first-period class. "Good luck, Stacey," he said, "but I'm sure you don't need it."

My hands were shaking. "I don't know how I'll last till lunch."

Robert smiled and pulled out an envelope

that was tucked into a book. "Here, maybe this will help."

I took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a card with a photo of a girl in a cheer-leading outfit. She was at the top of a jump, looking downward. Her eyes were buggy with shock. Clouds surrounded her, and a bird was flying by with a thought bubble that showed a question mark.

Two words were printed inside: HIGH THERE. Underneath, Robert had written, To my favorite cheerleader. You're great.

Robert's face was turning red. "Corny, I know, but — "

"No, it's sweet, Robert," I said. "I love it."

"I was going to give it to you afterward, but you looked like you could use a boost now."

"Thank you!" I threw my arms around him.

Robert walked me to my class. He was right. The card had given me a boost. He was obviously confident about the outcome of the tryouts. Everyone was.

My own confidence kept leaving me every few minutes. During my morning classes, I had to will parts of my body to stop shaking. Twice my teachers asked if I was having a diabetic reaction.

By the time lunch period finally came, I must have aged about ten years. I felt numb.

Slowly I walked to the gym. I hoped the

beating of my heart wasn't too obvious under my blouse.

I took a seat in the bleachers. Several of the other girls were there. We sat near each other, but no one said a word.

The cheerleaders were milling around, swapping clipboards, laughing and gossiping. They looked relieved. Fortunately Sheila's back was to me every time I looked her way. I didn't want to see her until the announcement was over.

"Okay, is everybody here?" Darcy called out. She approached us, counting heads. "I guess so. Okay, we can start."

With a solemn expression, she began slowly pacing. The other cheerleaders sat in the first row. "First off," Darcy said, "I want to say you were all wonderful. If we had twelve spots, we would have taken you all. We thought this was the best group yet."

The other cheerleaders nodded and mumbled enthusiastically.

"Now, unfortunately, we have to face the facts. Eleven of you will not make it. All that means is that you're in good company. Our decision was based on many things — talent and looks, of course; but also personality, height, physique, and ability to fit with the existing squad."

Puh-leeze! This was torture. Where did she

think she was, the Miss America Pageant? Couldn't she just come out with it?

"We feel like we've gotten to know you, and we want you to keep in touch. After all, next year at SHS, we'll be in the same boat, trying out together!"

Polite, nervous laughter from the girls around me.

"All right, now. After a long, long night, staying up and discussing every detail of every performance, going back and forth between all our excellent choices, we finally made our decision. I know you're dying to know, so here it is. The new member of the SMS cheerleading squad is . . ."

She paused. I felt as if electricity were crackling through me.

". . . Kathleen Lopez!"

My legs had been poised to stand. They seemed to be saying to the rest of my body, Come on, we can't stay like this forever. It took awhile for my shocked brain to send the bad news downward.

On the gym floor, the cheerleaders were hugging and congratulating Kathleen.

Kathleen Lopez?

Her routine flashed through my mind — her decent but not spectacular turns, her okay split, her nice but wavering smile.

I tried to live with the decision. I didn't want to be a sore loser. It was over. The best girl won. I stood up and got ready to leave.

But the moment my foot touched the floor, I stopped. Who was I trying to kid? Kathleen's routine had not been as good as mine. I wasn't being conceited, it was just true.

All kinds of thoughts were whisking around in my brain. Robert's comments about the way The Group manipulated people, about their fickleness. The remarks I'd overheard in the bathroom about me. About Jessi. About Cor-inne.

Corinne! Could she have convinced them not to take me?

My blood was boiling. I walked right up to the happy group. Margie was the nearest girl. I tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around. Her smile tightened. "Hi, Stacey."

"Margie, why didn't I make the squad?" I said it flat out. I was not going to pull any punches.

"Well ... it was a hard decision, and ..." She shrugged. "We just, you know, picked the best girl."