Unraveling Isobel (16 page)

“A new year provides new opportunities,” he intoned. “A winning season. A championship.” He looked across the bleachers. I was getting the feeling that Principal Hoffman had a bit of a Churchill complex. “But let me be clear: a new opportunity is not the same as a fresh start. Our past cannot be left behind. History has a long memory. It grips us. It holds on.” Hoffman held out his clenched hands for those who weren't grasping just how tenacious history could be without a visual aid. “We can't forget our history with the Spartans. I can assure you they haven't forgotten. They think they can beat us, but what they don't know is that we haven't forgotten either. The ghosts of our former teams will be on that field with us tonight. We won't repeat the past. We'll learn from it. We will take what we know and use it to beat them!”

Hoffman pounded the lectern with his palm. The crowd gave a cheer.

“Who are we?” Hoffman bellowed.

“Cougars!” the crowd yelled back. Brit jammed her elbow in my side, and I realized the rest of the cheerleaders were standing and shaking their pom-poms.

“Cougars!” I yelled out a beat after everyone else. Nicole shot me a disapproving look.

“Okay, we're up,” Jenni whispered. She and Sam plastered perfectly matched pageant girl smiles on their faces and bounced out onto the floor in tandem. I swallowed hard and followed them. No guts, no glory.

Ms. Lancaster turned on our music. The bass was turned up so hard I could feel it pounding in my chest.

“Ready? Okay!” Nicole yelled out, and we began our routine. I could hear people yelling and cheering as we went, so we must have been doing okay. We spun around, bent down, and looked out at the crowd through our split legs.

Suddenly Nathaniel was pushing his way down the stairs and out onto the floor. He pushed past Sam and grabbed me.

“Hey!” I yanked my arm back. “What are you doing? We're in the middle of a routine.” Ms. Lancaster cut off the music. I could feel my face flush red-hot in embarrassment.

“You're flashing your underwear to the entire school,” Nathaniel said under his breath.

I rolled my eyes. “It's not my underwear. It's the bottom that goes with the cheerleading skirt.” I flipped the skirt up to show him the white cotton bottoms with orange and black polka dots, the school colors. I heard someone in the crowd let out a whoop.

Nathaniel grabbed Jenni's skirt and flipped it up. Her bottom was solid black Lycra.

I shook my head in confusion. “This is the uniform they gave me.”

The rest of the squad was huddled together. I could see Nicole pressing her lips together to keep a smile from breaking out.

“It's a joke. Sort of a hazing thing we do to anyone new on the squad,” she said. Brit choked off a laugh; even Sam and Jenni were smirking.

I looked out at the crowd. Tons of people in the audience were laughing. Dear God. I had just stood in front of the entire school and shaken my ass in giant polka-dotted granny panties.

“Not funny,” Nathaniel said, glaring at Nicole.

“I didn't think she would wear them,” Nicole explained, but she could barely smother her giggles. “I figured she would know those weren't the right bottoms.”

“How would I know? I've never cheered before.” I blinked back tears.

“Girls? We're in the middle of a routine here,” Ms. Lancaster said. “Take your places.” She gave a brittle smile to the crowd and a nod to Mr. Hoffman to show she had everything under control.

“Isobel, I'm sorry,” Nicole apologized, suddenly all sincere. “It was a joke. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I feel terrible.” She was talking to me, but the whole time she was looking at Nathaniel.

“You didn't embarrass me. You humiliated me.” I wanted to spit in her face. This is what I got for thinking I could pull off being a cheerleader, for thinking any of these people were really my friends. The only reason Nicole hung out with me was to be near Nathaniel. I thought having a lousy friend was better than being completely alone, but I was beginning to suspect I was wrong. I swallowed to keep from bursting into tears.

“Girls. Pull it together,” Ms. Lancaster hissed from the sidelines. She motioned to someone standing near the sound system.

“Screw this.” You couldn't pay me enough to stay there and
do the whole thing again. I ran for the door. The music started up again, chasing me out, and I could hear Nicole start the cheer from the top.

The hallway was mercifully empty. For good measure, I kicked one of the lockers as hard as I could. When it didn't beg for mercy, I gave it a few extra kicks, as well as calling it a few choice names.

“You okay?”

I whirled around, and Nathaniel was standing there watching me.

“The entire school saw.”

“Could have been worse.”

“Really?” I said in my most incredulous voice. “How do you figure?”

“Could have been thong panties.” Nathaniel shoved his hair out of his eyes. “Besides, you looked good. If you have to flash the world, at least look good doing it.”

Did he just compliment my ass? Did this mean he noticed I even had an ass?

“I should have known better. I'm not cheerleader material.” I pulled the sweater down for the millionth time that day. “I never even wanted to be a cheerleader.”

“So why did you do it?”

“I don't know. This place is different. I don't fit in.” I looked him in the eye. “Not that fitting in is a big deal to me. It just seemed easier to go with the flow, try out a different perspective for the year.”

“So you tried cheerleading as a social experiment?”

“Exactly. Of course, I ended up just looking stupid.” I bit my lip and averted my eyes.

“Better than looking bitchy like Nicole.”

“You think Nicole's a bitch?” I rubbed my nose and didn't meet his eyes.

“I think what she did was shitty. She should have told you before you went out there.”

“I thought you were crazy about her.”

Nathaniel laughed. “What made you think that?”

“You're always flirting with her.”

“Lately she's around my house. I've just been making small talk.”

“It's my house too.”

“Fine. She's always in our house.”

“So it's a matter of convenience? You flirt with anyone who happens to be in our house?” I asked. Nathaniel shrugged. “You don't flirt with me.” As soon as the words fell out of my mouth, I wanted to swallow them back down.

“Would you like me to flirt with you?” Nathaniel's eyes seemed to have me pinned against the lockers.

“No,” I said, thinking,
Yes, yes, yes
. “Don't be stupid. I was just making a point.”

A cheer came from the gym followed by the sound of people stamping their feet on the bleachers.

“Sounds like the pep rally is over,” Nathaniel said.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. I was not looking forward to sitting in the cafeteria while everyone discussed my panty parade and hearing Nicole tell me how the whole thing had been nothing more than good, clean fun while angling for an invitation to come over and drool on Nathaniel. The thought filled me with dread, and I squeezed my eyes shut, tilting my head back to thud against the nearest locker. If only I could make the whole world dissolve away.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

I opened one eye to see if he was being serious. “Skip the rest of the day? We could get into trouble.”

“I live for danger. Besides, our reputations practically require us to behave badly.”

I smiled at that. “You do come from a cursed family.”

“And you've developed a habit of flashing your undies at your fellow schoolmates.” He pretended to be horrified. “Dear God, woman, there were freshmen in the audience. Mere children.” Nathaniel shook his head sadly.

“Most likely I scarred them for life. The sight of granny panties will probably trigger flashbacks for the rest of their lives.”

There was another wave of sound from the gym. Nathaniel held out his hand to me.

“Let's go.”

I didn't think about it anymore. I grabbed his hand and we left.

Chapter 22

“
H
ow can you not know how to drive?” Nathaniel asked. It was a surprisingly warm day, so he had the windows down. The wind was blowing through my hair.

We were driving around the island in Nathaniel's car. Lots of people have cars that were passed down from family, except usually it's a beat-up Ford Taurus with ripped interior and big rust pimples on the sides. Nathaniel had his grandfather's 1960 Triumph. We realized as soon as we got in the car that we couldn't go home. Dick and my mom were pretty focused on each other, but even they would guess school didn't let out at noon.

“I didn't need to know how to drive in Seattle,” I explained. “In civilization there's this concept you may never have heard of called public transportation.”

“What is this thing you call transportation?”

I smacked him and rummaged through his lunch bag. He packed a way better lunch than I did. I popped a few of his grapes in my mouth. I dropped one and it rolled under my seat. Shit. Nathaniel kept his car immaculate. I suspected he buffed the leather seats with a soft cloth diaper. I casually leaned over and let my fingers search for the grape, but it was gone. It was going to fester under there until it became a raisin. I leaned back. I better enjoy this ride. Once he knew I left produce to rot in his car, I was going to be back riding my bike.

“Public transportation is better for the environment.” I carefully popped another grape into my mouth. “The eco-crowd loves me.”

“We already discussed that I'm responsible for global warming, so this adds nothing to the discussion. You must want to know how to drive. The open road. The freedom to go wherever your imagination leads.”

“We live on an island. Where am I going to go? Freedom to drive in circles, big deal.”

“Are you afraid to drive?” Nathaniel revved the engine as we wound around a corner.

“No, of course not.”

Nathaniel stopped in the middle of the road and set the hand brake. “Okay, I'll teach you.”

“Now?” I nearly aspirated an entire grape.

“Why not?” Nathaniel opened the door and walked around. He opened my door and bent over as if he were a valet. “Go with the flow.”

I called his bluff and walked around to the driver's side. No way was I going to mention that this car cost more than the house I used to live in. If something happened to this car I would have to sell a kidney to pay for the repairs, maybe two. Biology wasn't my best subject, but I was pretty sure I needed to keep at least one. I took my time adjusting the mirrors and seat. I clicked my seat belt and placed my hands on the steering wheel.

“You ready? You're going to place your foot on the clutch, shift the car into first, and slowly let up while at the same time starting to press on the gas. There isn't much traffic around here, so you don't have to worry. Just lightly press on the gas and we're off.”

I took a deep breath and did as he instructed. I stepped on the gas and the car shot forward with a roar of the engine. The trees turned to a green blur on either side and Nathaniel let out a high scream. The engine shuddered and the car came to a lurching stop as it stalled. The wayward grape rolled out from under the passenger seat. Nathaniel took a few deep breaths with both hands braced on the console.

“Well, that was interesting,” Nathaniel said after a beat. “Here I saw you as a sort of brooding artsy type, and in reality, deep inside you have the heart of a Nascar driver.”

“I keep telling you, I'm not any particular type. Your gas pedal is really touchy.”

“It's touchy because you stomped on it.”

“I didn't stomp.” I yanked on the hand brake. “This is stupid. You drive.”

“You're going to quit?”

“I'm no good at this. I nearly killed us.”

“You aren't allowed to kill us. You realize how that would increase the rumors of my family curse? You can't give up this easy. You know what they say: winners never quit and quitters never win.”

“Your dad says that, doesn't he? It has that Wickham home wisdom sound to it.”

“That's nothing. You haven't lived until you've been on the receiving end of the ‘you're a disappointment to generations of Wickhams' talk. It has subsections dealing with destiny, honor, and the American way.”

That surprised me. “How can your dad think you're a disappointment? You're …” My voice trailed off because what I'd planned to say was “you're perfect,” which might have been a little too honest. “You've got everything going for you,” I said instead. “You're smart. And you dress nice.”

Nathaniel laughed. “It doesn't matter. Doesn't just about everybody disappoint their parents? They say all they want is for us to be happy, but what they really want is for us to be their do-over. Their second chance at life.”