Stacey And The Cheerleaders (9 page)

The torture began. Number One was Kathleen Lopez — tall, willowy-thin like a model, and stunning. She even looked great giving her cassette to Darcy. Her routine was pretty good, too. I was dying. "Jessi..." I moaned.

"No comparison," Jessi whispered. "Not even close."

Lisa Kedem, Ronnie Gallea, and Diane Maqnani followed. Each of them had a decent routine — but none of them had been trained by the great Jessi Ramsey, and it showed.

I was beginning to calm down.

"Number Five!" Darcy shouted. "Who's Number — "

"Here!" I said, jumping up.

From behind me, I heard: "Go!" "Good luck!" "Break a leg!" "Show 'em!"

Jessi and I shared a Look. Now she seemed more nervous than I did.

I took my cassette and walked to Darcy, flashing my biggest, happy-to-be-here smile.

What happened next? It's all a blur. My body was on auto-pilot. Here's what I remember: I kept smiling. I didn't lose my place. And the cheerleaders did not take their eyes off me during my performance.

When I was done, my BSC friends gave me a loud standing ovation.

I stood up, panting and sweaty. My breathing sounded like a hacksaw in the vast gym. Very chic.

I couldn't help staring at the cheerleaders. I knew they couldn't tell me on the spot whether I'd be chosen, but I wanted to see something — a signal, a facial expression.

They were all huddled over their clipboards, writing furiously. But as I began walking back to the stands, Sheila looked up and gave me a confident nod.

My friends were still standing. "You were sensationall" Shannon said.

Ill

"Definitely the best!" Kristy cried.

"Sssshhhhh, Kristy, not so loud!" Mary Anne warned. "Be polite."

"She's right, though," Robert said in a softer voice, "Far and away the best!"

Jessi was beaming with pride. "I agree. I am sooo proud of you!"

We stayed to watch the others. After tryouts were finally over, Darcy turned and said, "Thank you for coming. You were all fantastic. We'll make our decision by Friday, and it's going to be a hard one. See you then."

The twelve girls and their friends cheered wildly. I'm sure the other finalists felt just as relieved as I did.

As we stood to leave, Jessi leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "You know what? You're a shoo-in."

My friends nodded.

"Really?" I replied. "You're not just being polite?"

"No way," Jessi said. "Cross my heart."

"Stace," Robert added, putting his arm around me, "you were a nine-one-one."

I glanced at the cheerleader table. The girls were in furious conversation, but Sheila was looking right at me. She grinned from ear to ear and gave me a thumbs-up sign.

I nearly shrieked.

Chapter 12.

Claudia was on a mission To Create An Artist. She had done it once before, with a sitting charge named Rosie Wilder. Rosie had a million talents but was unhappy, and Claudia helped her realize she loved art more than anything else.

Tiffany was going to be Claud's next project.

Claud arrived at the Kilbournes' energetic and happy. Shannon was at some meeting, as usual. Mrs. Kilbourne and Maria were rushing off to a swim meet.

"Tiffany's in the rec room!" was the last thing Mrs. Kilbourne said. "Enter at your own risk! 'Bye!"

Claudia cheerfully walked to the rec room and pushed the door open. "Hi, Ti — "

Bonk. The door hit something and went no further.

"Hey, quit it!" a voice shouted.

Claudia peeked through the crack in the door. "It's Claudia, your — "

Two tries, two unfinished sentences. Claudia could only stare.

She had never seen such a mess — Claudia, the winner of the Least Likely to See Her Own Bedroom Floor Award.

Photo albums and a camera were stacked on the TV set. A tennis racket, baseball glove, and softball lay on the couch, next to a cassette

recorder and about a dozen tapes. The floor was covered with jigsaw puzzle pieces, stamps, an old guitar, Polaroid pictures, photography magazines, coins, lumps of modeling clay, paste, glue, paints, chalk, plastic containers, a model-making kit, and books about horses, birds, jogging, sculpting, music, and space travel.

Tiffany stood up and waded through the junk. She pulled a huge easel away from the door and said, "Okay, come in."

Claudia took a couple of steps in, but that was as far as she could go. "Uh . . . what are you doing?"

"Lots of things," Tiffany replied.

"Are these all ... hobbies?" Claudia asked.

Tiffany whirled around and gave her an accusing look. "Who told you?"

"What?"

"Who told you? Did Mary Anne tell you I was looking for a hobby?"

"Well, yeah. Was it supposed to be a secret?"

Tiffany pushed aside the tennis racket and plopped onto the couch. "I guess not." She let out a huge sigh. "Do you have a hobby?"

"Uh-huh. Art. Can I sit next to you?"

"Yeah." Tiffany put the cassette player on the floor and Claudia sat down. "Music is easy to listen to," Tiffany went on, "but it's real

hard to play. I tried playing the guitar. I even read a book about it. But when I played I sounded like a dying cat."

"When I sing, I sound like a howling dog," Claudia said. "Maybe we could do a duet."

Tiffany smiled. "What kind of art do you do?"

"Painting, sculpture, drawing, everything."

"Well, I tried everything."

"You couldn't have given it much of a chance, Tiffany — "

"I did. But I stink. Also I didn't like it. It's too messy."

"What did you like?"

"Nothing! I try to hit a tennis ball against the garage door, and I miss half the time. When I take pictures, I cut people's heads off. Jigsaw puzzles are boring. Birds all look the same to me, and so do horses. Besides I've seen them and they're smelly. We don't have a piano. And I get sick licking stamps."

"Uh, Tiffany, maybe you should think of going a little slower, picking one thing — "

"I can'tl" Tiffany got up from the sofa. She began stalking around the room, kicking things aside. "I can tell when I'm bad at something. I have to find a hobby I can win at."

"Win? Who are you trying to beat?"

"My sisters! Didn't Mary Anne tell you that?

That's why I'm doing this. Mary Anne told me to."

"Wait a minute," Claudia said. "I don't think Mary Anne meant that you should try to compete with your sisters."

"She did! Ask her! We can call her up — "

"No, that's okay. Look, Tiffany, this isn't making you happy, is it?"

Tiffany moped over to the couch again and sank into the cushion. "No."

"I think you may be doing this the wrong way. I mean, a hobby is something you should enjoy. It doesn't matter how good you are at it. It's not supposed to be, like, a weapon against your sisters."

Tiffany mumbled something.

"You know," Claudia continued, "my older sister, Janine, is so smart it's disgusting."

"Shannon is like that!"

"Well, I felt so inferior to Janine that I used to escape to my room all the time and just draw pictures. It made me forget how stupid I felt. Then I got into painting, and papier-mache, jewelry-making. Now I've become pretty good at all of it, and I want to be an artist for a living someday. I didn't try to be better than my sister. I stuck to the thing I liked."

Tiffany looked deep in thought. (Either that

or bored out of her mind. Claudia wasn't sure which.)

"Tiffany," Claudia said, "what do you like? What really interests you? Come on, first thing that comes to your mind."

For a moment, Tiffany said nothing. Then she looked up at Claudia and said in a tiny voice, "Flowers."

"Flowers?"

"I guess."

"You like looking at them?"

Tiffany's face lost all its gloominess. "I like everything about them — planting, watering, watching them grow, arranging them, and drying the petals to make sachets."

It wasn't what Claudia had expected. But boy, was she glad to see Tiffany excited about something.

"That's a great hobby, Tiffany!" Claudia said. "Maybe your parents can let you grow a garden in the spring. I mean, there's not much you can do now, but — "

"Sure there is, silly!" Tiffany bolted from the couch and ran out of the room, slipping over all her junk. Moments later she returned with a stack of magazines and an encyclopedia. "We get House and Garden. I always look at the pictures when Mom and Dad are through. See, I can use these pictures to plan my garden. Then I can look up the plants and flowers I

don't know in the encyclopedia."

"How about mapping it out on paper?" Claudia asked.

Tiffany squealed with delight. "Ooh, then I can draw it with colored pencils!"

She ran off again, this time returning with pencils and huge sheets of paper.

Claudia said Tiffany worked on her garden plan the rest of the afternoon. When Mrs. Kil-bourne came home she couldn't believe the change. She offered to adopt Claudia (jokingly, I think).

As Claudia left, she could see Tiffany and Maria staking out a corner of the backyard. They were gesturing at the dirt and talking a mile a minute.

Chapter 13.

I don't know how I kept food down. But there I was, in the SMS cafeteria on Thursday, somehow eating a Salisbury steak. (I wish someone would tell me why they call a hamburger with old brown sauce "Salisbury steak." Did someone named Salisbury invent the sauce? If so, he should have been arrested.)

My eyes kept darting over to The Group's table. They were jabbering away about something. Jason Fox was standing next to them, probably giving Marty some homework answers.

I looked away. Seeing them only made me feel worse.

The tryouts had been held two days earlier. Results weren't going to be announced until the next day. I had to walk the same halls as the cheerleaders, go to some of the same classes, eat the same Salisbury steak.

Nervous? Me? Why do you ask?

I tried to analyze Sheila's tone of voice when she said "Good morning" in homeroom. When Penny smiled at me in the hallway, I was convinced I was going to make the squad. When Darcy seemed hassled after school I was sure I'd been rejected.

Robert was being awfully nice to me. He tried to make me laugh, which always helped — briefly.

My concentration was shot. Three huge pimples had burst onto my face. My stomach was making noises loud enough to stop conversations.

And the worst thing was, everyone else was so calm!

"Shannon told me Tiffany wants to plant ivy along the side of the house," Claudia was saying. "She even knows the kind. Her mom thinks it's okay, but her dad says it'll weaken the walls."

Tiffany was the hot topic at lunch. Shannon had called Claudia Wednesday night, marveling at the change in her sister.

Bits of Claudia's conversation were breaking through the mush in my brain. One thing stuck with me, though. Something about choosing a hobby for the right reason. It made such good sense. I don't know if I would have thought to tell that to Tiffany.

"Stacey? Are you okay?" Mary Anne asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm just thinking about . . . you know."

"Hey, don't worry," Kristy said. "Just try to forget about it."

"That's easy for you to say," I replied.

Mmmmmmrrraawwwiv. . . .

I had never heard a sound like that escape from my belly. It was like a yawning lion. Maybe the Salisbury steak had woken it up.

"That's easy for you to say," Kristy remarked.

Suddenly I wasn't feeling very well. "Um . . . I'm going to go to the girls' room," I said.

Suddenly my friends looked tense and concerned. "Do you need help?" Claudia asked.

I knew what they were thinking. "It's not the diabetes. Just an upset stomach."

I grabbed my shoulder bag and stood up. The girls' room was across the hall. I rushed inside and closed myself in a stall. I hate hate hate HATE barfing, but I'd rather do it in private if I have to.

I took a few deep breaths. My stomach seemed to be settling. The lion must have shifted and gone back to sleep. I promised myself not to eat any more lunch.

That was when I heard the bathroom door slam open. "Aaagh! I can't believe you kissed him, right in front of everybody!"

It was Penny's voice. Laughter bounced off the tile walls. She was with a few other cheerleaders.

The lion stirred.

"Did you see the lipstick on his cheek?" Margie cried.

"No," Darcy replied, "because his face turned the same color!"

More laughter. Corinne's voice chanted, "Margie and Jason, Margie and Jason ..."

"Oh, for sure, Corinne," Margie said. "Every day."

I was petrified. I wanted to leave the stall, but I must have- looked terrible. Quickly I pulled a comb out of my shoulder bag. I let out a silent burp, which made me feel much better.

Outside the stall I could hear purses opening and makeup clattering. The girls were now standing by the sinks, presumably looking in the mirrors.

I prepared myself for my entrance.

"I can't wait for this tryout meeting to be over," Penny said.

"Really!" Margie exclaimed. "I hate having to face those girls in the hallway. Did you see Stacey today?"

"The poor thing looked like she was going to faint," Darcy said.

My hand froze on the latch. Should I burst

in on a conversation about me? How embarrassing! But if I stayed where I was, and they found out I'd been there, they'd know I'd been eavesdropping. I wasn't sure what to do.

"Well, I don't know why she's going mental about it," Margie said. "She did great."

"Yeah,",Penny agreed.

I decided to postpone my entrance.

"Where did she learn all that stuff?" Penny asked.

"From the Baby-sitters Club," Corinne answered.

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?"