Stacey And The Cheerleaders (4 page)

"Okay."

"Carbo-loading, eh, guys?" boomed the voice of Mr. Blake, an SMS teacher.

"Yo, Mr. Blake!" Marty stood and gave him a high-five.

"I guess I found the place where the stars eat, huh?" Mr. Blake remarked.

We laughed. All of us "stars."

My rating for the night was rising. So what if the date hadn't been perfect?

It felt good to be in the limelight.

Chapter 4.

"A tisket! A tasket! Put it in the basket! Who's the best? SMS! Yeeeaaaa, team!"

I'd never been so excited about a sports event. Just hearing the cheerleaders practice made my heart flutter.

It was Saturday night, about fifteen minutes before the game. Mary Anne, Logan, Jessi, Kristy, and I had just walked into the gym. We were going to watch the game, then us girls were going to have a sleepover at Kristy's.

My friends were calm and happy. Me? I was a wreck.

Maybe it was because I actually knew everyone on the basketball court now. I was feeling nervous for them.

Sheila was perfecting her split. Darcy was figuring out moves with Penny Weller. RJ and Malik were shooting balls a zillion feet away

from the basket — and getting them in. Robert was dribbling another ball while Marty tried to bat it away. (What an expression — dribbling. You expect to see a trail of saliva. Why don't they just say "bouncing"?)

The gym was starting to fill up. Logan found seats for us near midcourt. I tried to catch Sheila's eye, but she'd started talking to Marty. The two of them looked soooo in love.

I pictured myself in her place. Imagine some big hunkified guy singling me out like that, in front of hundreds of people.

Sigh.

My eyes moved right to Robert. I don't know why.

"Chips? Malted milk balls?" Leave it to Claudia. She was already offering us junk food. Her shoulder bag was crammed with it.

"Thanks," I said, taking a bag of pretzels.

Corinne looked our way, just as I was stuffing my face. I waved and she gave me a smile.

I could see her eyes move from Jessi to Claudia to Kristy to Mary Anne, then quickly look away. Suddenly I didn't want those pretzels anymore.

I wondered what Corinne was thinking. What would I have thought if I were Corinne? Claud was rummaging around for snacks, wearing an outfit that suddenly seemed a little weird (a sequined vest over a man's white shirt

and bell-bottomed spandex pants). Kristy was gesturing around the court with a potato-chip bag as she lectured Mary Anne about the rules of basketball. Mary Anne looked pale and washed-out (and bored) in the bright lights. And Jessi — well, Jessi was acting like an eleven-year-old.

"This is so cool," she squealed. "I hope it goes into overtime so I can stay up really late."

Now, there's nothing wrong with saying something like that. I'd have felt the same way at that age.

But somehow it bothered me — just the way our pigging out did, and Claudia's outfit, and Kristy's lecturing.

1 shrugged it off. After all, your friends are your friends. Why should I be ashamed of them? That would be true snobbishness, and I was not going to behave that way!

Before long the players left the court. The cheerleaders sat on a bench, and the gym quieted down. Then a voice over the loudspeaker boomed out: "Welcome to Stoneybrook Middle School, ladies and gentlemen! Tonight the SMS Chargers will play the Sheridan Wildcats!"

Well, I thought I would lose my hearing. The gym exploded with cheers.

It turned out to be the first explosion of many. What an exciting game! Sheridan was a good team, better than we'd expected.

Whenever they were ahead of SMS, I felt my stomach knot up. Then the cheerleaders would go wild. The rest of us would join in their cheers, at the top of our lungs. Even Mary Anne was screaming.

By half time I was hoarse. My shin ached, too. I had banged it during a huge group hug with my friends, when RJ got a basket right at the buzzer.

The second half? Oh my lord, talk about tense. Neither team could keep the lead. Sheridan pulled ahead, then Stoneybrook. My fingernails were ragged. My stomach was a mess. I thought Kristy was going to have a heart attack. Mary Anne almost cried a couple of times.

I was having "deep identification." That's what my English teacher would have called it. She's always asking if we identify with any characters in the books we're reading. I feel so frustrated when I don't. Well, during this game I was identifying like crazy. When Marty fell and hurt his ankle, I grimaced. When Robert made a basket from far away, I felt ecstatic. And the cheerleaders? I think I'd memorized every move. I could swear my legs hurt from their splits.

Toward the end of the game, the players began losing their tempers. RJ collided with a

Sheridan player and started a fight. Robert had to pull RJ away and calm him down. The SMS coach, Mr. Halvorsen, got into a shouting match with the referee. With three seconds to go, the game was tied.

What happened next? A Sheridan player threw the ball, Wayne McConville grabbed it and passed it to Malik. Malik threw it and . . . SWISH!

"Game is over! Stonei/broofc is the winner by ONE POINT/" Whoever was on the loudspeaker was practically shrieking.

You would have thought it was the end of the championships. The stands emptied. We poured out onto the court. It was pandemonium. Absolute, total, utter chaos. Even teachers and parents were hugging each other and screaming. I could see Mr. Blake clapping Malik on the back. RJ and Robert had lifted Wayne McConville onto their shoulders. Marty ran to Sheila and swept her off her feet (literally). The rest of the cheerleaders had given up doing organized cheers. They were just jumping up and down, flinging their pompoms around. Jason Fox was performing a little victory dance under the basket.

I ran up to Darcy, who was the nearest cheerleader. "Congratulations!" I called out.

She didn't hear me over the noise.

That was when Robert passed by. He and Wayne were talking and laughing. "Robert!" I yelled.

"Oh, hi!" (Wow, was that smile a killer.) "Good game, huh?"

"You were great!" I replied.

"Thanks."

I did it. I hugged him. I didn't plan it, it just happened. It didn't mean anything, really. Everybody was hugging. Besides, he was so sweaty it was kind of gross.

But only kind of.

As he disappeared into the crowd, I looked around for Corinne. She was nowhere to be seen. Whew.

I tried to elbow my way closer to the cheerleaders, but it was hopeless. An enormous crowd had formed around them and the players.

I hung out on the edge of the throng, babbling away with anyone I knew. After awhile, people began to leave. I found myself inching closer to Robert, who was now wiping his face with a towel and talking to the coach.

Phweeeeeet!

A piercing whistle rang out from the stands. The noise level dropped. Faces turned toward the sound.

It was Kristy, standing about halfway up the bleachers, looking directly at me. "Stacey, are

you coming to the sleepover or not?" she yelled. "Charlie's outside with the van!"

Gulp.

I could hear snickering. Someone said, "A sleepover? Oh, goody!" in a childish voice.

I was cringing. I was melting.

Thank you, Kristy Thomas.

But what could I do?xl did want to go to the sleepover. I nodded nonchalantly to Kristy and began heading for the door.

On my way out, I did not dare look in the direction of the cheerleaders. Or Robert.

I brooded all the way to Kristy's. But I got over it. Especially when I saw Watson in the kitchen wearing a tall chef's hat and a spotless apron. He was carrying a rolling pin in one hand, a kitchen knife in the other, and a huge grin was on his face.

On the table was the hugest spread of food you ever saw — sliced cold cuts, loaves of bread, veggies and dip, and fresh fruit.

Our mouths dropped open. We were ravenous. It took all I could do to keep from . . . well, dribbling.

"That's beautiful!" Claudia exclaimed.

"You made this?" Kristy looked absolutely shocked.

Watson raised an eyebrow. "Hey, it was a tough job, but somebody had to do it."

Kristy's mother breezed in. "Hey, kids, how was the — " She took a look at Watson, then us, and burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Kristy asked. "Look at all the work Watson did — "

"Yeah," Mrs. Brewer said between giggles. "He really strained his fingers calling the deli on the phone and placing the order!"

Watson grinned and shrugged.

"Ooooh . . ." With a sly smile, Kristy picked up a strawberry and reared back as if to throw it.

"Okay!" Watson cried. "I'm out of here!"

We were cracking up. I always thought Watson was bland and serious, but I guess everyone has a goofy side.

Anyway, we dug in to the platter. The food was delicious (and nothing was sugary — thank you, Watson). We gabbed a mile a minute about the game. We laughed, we gossiped, we made a total mess.

It turned out to be one of our best sleepovers ever. And I realized something. I had some of the best friends ever.

Chapter 5.

Sheila was standing outside homeroom on Monday morning. So were Darcy and Penny. They were looking at me with humongous smiles, as if they'd been waiting for me.

Darcy and Penny were not in my homeroom. I had no idea what they were doing there.

As 1 walked closer, they turned to each other and giggled.

Uh-oh.

They were going to torment me. That's what this was all about. They were going to laugh about the sleepover. 1 almost ran off.

But no. I held my chin high. If they were going to act that way, I'd just march right past them into the room.

"Stacey, you are going to die!" Sheila exclaimed.

Huh?

I stood there, staring. I must have looked

like a department-store mannequin.

They started giggling again. Sheila whispered to Darcy, "You tell her."

"Why do I have to?" Darcy replied.

"She's your friend, Sheila," Penny said.

"You guys are such babies!" Sheila exhaled with frustration. "Okay. Come here, Stacey. I don't want the whole world to know."

I walked over to them. They looked as if they were ready to burst with excitement.

"Robert likes you," Sheila said.

My brain did not handle the sentence. It was as if Sheila had said, "Your hair is blue," or "Yesterday is tomorrow," or "Life is a cheeseburger." No logic, no sense.

"What?" was my response.

Giggles again.

"He noticed you on Friday night," Darcy said. "At the Pizza Express."

"Remember, when your slices stuck together?" Sheila added.

"Love at first bite!" Penny covered her mouth and laughed at her own joke.

"Well — but — how — " My brain was now rediscovering the English language, but slowly. "What about Corinne?" I finally asked.

"What about her?" Penny asked.

"Robert is interested in her, isn't he?"

The girls exchanged a knowing glance. "Cor-

inne is the only one who thinks Robert is interested in her," Darcy replied.

Robert? Interested in me? Oh, please. He didn't know me. I wasn't one of The Group.

"His dad gave a bunch of us a ride home that night," Sheila said. "I was the last person he dropped off, so Robert and I had a few minutes in the car together. We were talking about the game, and then he said to me, and I quote, 'You seem to know Stacey pretty well. Is she going steady with RJ?' Just like that, out of the clear blue sky." Sheila paused for effect. I caught my breath. "Now, I didn't know the answer for sure. But I remembered you said you didn't like the movie. And I got the feeling you guys didn't . . . you know . . . kiss or anything. And you and RJ weren't exactly acting like lovebirds. So I decided to tell him you weren't. Was that okay?"

"I wasn't what?" I asked.

"Going steady with RJ!" Sheila answered with exasperation. "You're not, are you?"

"No!" I answered too loudly. I could feel myself blushing. "I mean, you were right to say that."

"Lucky," Penny said. "Robert is a real nine-one-one."

I looked at her blankly. "A nine-one-one?"

"You've never heard that expression?" She

shook her head in disbelief. "It's like calling nine-one-one because you're about to die from excitement? You know?"

"Right," I said. (I guessed that was a "Group" expression.)

"Well, I don't blame him," Sheila remarked. "He has good taste."

"Oh, groan," Darcy said. Then she looked at me and added quickly, "Really, he's also the nicest guy, Stacey. Sometimes the good-looking ones are jerks, but Robert's different."

"Anyway, I said he should call you," Sheila added. "And he said he would. So be prepared."

Boy, was I smiling. "You guys, I don't know what to say. Thanks for telling me."

"That's what friends are for," Sheila replied with a warm smile.

Darcy looked at her watch. "Oops, almost time for our practice," she said to Penny. Both girls laughed. I didn't get the joke.

"Sheila," Penny said, "did you tell Stacey about . . . you know what?"

I laughed. "Another secret?"

"Well, not exactly a secret/' Penny replied. "It's just that one of the cheerleaders is moving. We're going to hold tryouts to replace her, but we haven't set a date. We figured we'd let you know early, in case you want to start working out."

"If you're interested," Darcy added.

"Me?" I squeaked.

"Why not?" Sheila asked.

"Well, I don't know."

"You're definitely pretty enough to be on the squad," Darcy went on. "You just have to know how to do the usual stuff — splits, jumps, cartwheels — plus be able to pick up a combination."

"Splits?" I said. Just thinking about them hurt. And what did she mean, I was pretty enough to be on the squad?

"Splits aren't as hard as you think," Darcy said. "Besides, you have plenty of time to practice."

Riinnnnggg!

"Uh-oh! See you!" Penny cried.

She and Darcy raced away. Sheila practically had to pull me into homeroom.

It was a good thing she did, too. Otherwise I might have stood in the hall for hours.