Redwood and Ponytail

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Redwood and Ponytail Page 2

by K. A. Holt


  catching the light,

  blinding my eyes,

  that snappy red bow,

  those bright highlights

  like

  what

  excuse me

  what

  are you on purpose

  bringing every clichéd cheerleader

  to life?

  Kate

  This girl in the gym today,

  looking at me.

  Tall as a palm tree,

  shaped like one, too.

  Big hair on top,

  giraffe neck,

  legs like a stick figure

  stretching right off the page,

  her skin shimmering

  her head tossed back

  a loud laugh flying from her mouth

  while a boy

  small as she is tall

  bounces around her feet

  making her see

  nothing in the world but

  him.

  Alex

  Alyx

  Alexx

  Alex, Alyx, Alexx.

  Chillin’ in the shadows.

  Watching everything.

  Watching everything.

  Alex, Alyx, Alexx.

  Chillin’ in the shadows.

  Chillin’ in the shadows.

  Watching everything.

  Alex, Alyx, Alexx.

  We see all.

  Hear all.

  Know all.

  We know all.

  See all.

  Hear all.

  We hear all.

  Know all.

  See all.

  We three queens.

  We three queens.

  We three queens.

  Kate

  And just like that

  we tear it all down.

  No more bunting.

  No more signs.

  Fold up the tables.

  The gym is now a

  gym again.

  Practice in ten!

  Coach herds us to

  the locker room.

  Mom is right.

  The squad will love

  me as captain.

  I close my eyes.

  I can see it.

  I will make it happen.

  Okay, everyone. I need a favor.

  Coach, in her office,

  holding . . .

  what is that?

  A giant dead bird?

  Mitchell Phresch moved away

  and we have no mascot,

  at least until we have tryouts,

  at least for the first few games.

  The pause is so long,

  with giggles here and there.

  Who wants to volunteer?

  No one raises their hand

  and I can’t blame them.

  That dead bird,

  probably hot,

  probably smelling

  like Mitchell (not so) Phresch.

  But you know what?

  I hear Mom’s voice in my head:

  I could take one for the team.

  Why not?

  Everyone will love me more,

  and when it comes time

  I’m captain

  Bam

  no other choice.

  I raise my hand.

  I’ll do it.

  Well all right, Katherine!

  Way to step up.

  The girls all giggle.

  Becca raises her hand.

  Yes, Becca?

  But the mascot . . .

  it’s not

  part of the squad.

  Technically, you’re right.

  But Kate is flexible.

  She can straddle the line.

  I laugh.

  But inside I start to wonder.

  Wait . . . what did I just do?

  TAM

  Only one class with Levi.

  That’ll be weird.

  But fine.

  At least for me.

  He,

  that goofy doof,

  seems worried.

  Shortstack can hold his own,

  though.

  He’ll be fine.

  We’ll be fine.

  Still rulin’ the school

  one day at a time.

  Kate

  I still have a little Falcon

  in my step,

  skipping home

  though I’m back in my cheer uniform,

  the picture of normal.

  And can I just say?

  Who knew being the mascot

  could be so fun?

  I flapped and ran

  and leapt and spun

  and yes it was sweaty

  and yes it didn’t smell great

  but all in all

  this turned out

  to be a pretty fun day.

  TAM

  Making my way home,

  I see up ahead

  that cheerleader from earlier

  bouncing

  bobbing,

  sidewalk hopping.

  I cross over the courts

  to see what’s what

  when

  this kid

  wanders over,

  palming a ball

  dribbling words

  like he’s ten feet tall.

  You want to play, son?

  This kid with

  baggy shorts

  cropped hair

  staring

  at me,

  crinkled eyes

  sizing

  me

  up.

  Bet you could hit a basket or two.

  I let him talk,

  keep my mouth shut

  lips stuck

  tight

  as he dribbles

  and squints.

  Wanna play or what, dude?

  I still don’t talk;

  slap the ball

  right out of his hand

  his squint lost

  in surprise

  when I bounce that ball high

  off his forehead

  then catch it

  with one hand.

  Walk away.

  Hey! Ow! That’s my ball!

  What’s your damage, man?

  I don’t turn around;

  just drop the ball,

  letting the ground

  catch it

  carry it away,

  shaking

  my head.

  Yeah, I could hit a basket or two.

  Yeah, I could play some ball.

  But I’m not his son.

  I’m not a man.

  And just because

  I’m wearing a snapback

  and Chucks,

  that doesn’t mean I’m a dude.

  TAM

  Kate

  The little cheerleader

  from earlier

  saunters up,

  eyes twinkling bright.

  I get that all the time, you know.

  Always mistaken for a dude.

  Her half-smile

  tickles my eyes.

  Well I admit,

  as soon as I saw you

  I thought,

  linebacker

  for sure.

  I smirk.

  I roll my eyes.

  She rolls her eyes.

  Smirk.

  She puts her hand on her hip.

  I cock my hip to the side.

  I try to be serious.

  I try not to smile.

  Wouldn’t surprise me

  if you were quite

  the athlete.

  She reaches over,

  surprising me,

  squeezes

  my arm.

  I squeeze

  her tiny bird-bone arm,

  but it’s firm,

  solid.

  All muscle,

  hidden

  out of sight.

  What’s your name, Ponytail?

  My name is Kate.

  What’s yours?

  Redwood?

  Cause I’m so
tall?

  Hilarious.

  My name is Tam.

  Short for Tamara.

  But I have to put you through that basket—

  I point to the court—

  if you

  ever

  call me Tamara.

  Nice to meet you, Tam.

  Nice to meet you, Kate.

  I wink

  She winks!

  and I jog off.

  Alex

  Alyx

  Alexx

  Like a Redwood.

  She towers.

  So glam.

  So glam.

  Like a Redwood.

  She towers.

  She towers.

  So glam.

  Like a Redwood.

  Intriguing the Ponytail.

  Intriguing the Ponytail.

  Intriguing the Ponytail.

  Perhaps.

  A story.

  In the making.

  In the making.

  Perhaps.

  A story.

  A story.

  In the making.

  Perhaps.

  The Alexes take notice.

  We extra notice.

  You couldn’t not notice.

  TAM

  Mom.

  I laugh,

  point.

  Her chin faces the ceiling

  like a yoga salute

  and a gymnastics move

  and an emoji

  combined.

  She laughs.

  It’s the thousandth time

  she’s worn her ID

  upside down.

  Oh, good grief.

  I’m smiling up at me!

  New scrubs?

  She pats her thighs.

  My special occasion scrubs.

  When I look confused

  she laughs again.

  First day of seventh grade!

  Wow, you’re old for seventh grade.

  Mom bops my head with a notepad.

  Nervous?

  Nah.

  She gets

  That Look,

  clears her throat.

  Her eyes peer

  over the top

  of her sparkly purple

  glasses.

  NERVOUS?

  NAH.

  She bops me again.

  Have a great day, Love.

  Remember, you only YOLO once.

  I laugh.

  Mom. No.

  Don’t try to be cool.

  I’m totally cool.

  I make you LOL out loud

  all

  the

  time.

  Mom. Stop.

  Have a good day at work.

  And then she hugs me

  and I can see the top of her head,

  silver tinsel

  glittering in the black.

  Your gift to me,

  she always says,

  silver in my hair

  sparkle in my day.

  Kate

  Just the right shade.

  For the future cheer captain,

  following in her mother’s footsteps.

  Mom presents lipstick,

  it’s in a small golden box.

  My mom wouldn’t let me wear lipstick

  at your age. Isn’t that crazy?

  She smiles,

  like we have a secret.

  I take the box.

  The lipstick is light pink.

  You’re so beautiful, Katherine.

  The prettiest girl in school.

  I roll the lipstick tube

  across my palm.

  Obviously,

  she continues,

  the smartest, most talented girl, too.

  Just like her mom.

  Weirdly, I want to throw

  the box,

  bounce it off her head

  like Tam did with the ball

  and that stupid kid.

  But I don’t.

  I let her kiss my cheek.

  I say,

  Thank you.

  I love you.

  And as she shuts my door.

  I put the lipstick,

  unopened,

  in my desk drawer.

  TAM

  I’m not nervous

  about the first day;

  that’s a thing

  I don’t get:

  nervous.

  I just see . . .

  the buses lined up,

  kids spewing out,

  new boobs,

  new hair,

  new clothes.

  Shouts

  echo loud.

  And I feel . . .

  the same flutter

  I get

  before the first serve.

  The shudder

  up my neck

  before the clock’s numbers

  blur.

  There’s no whistle right now,

  just the bell,

  piercing, short.

  Here we go,

  DaSilva.

  Time

  to

  own

  the

  court.

  Kate

  Mom says

  I can rule them all.

  Just like she did.

  Cheer captain.

  Smartest student.

  Biggest future.

  This is why I roam the halls,

  chin high,

  hair perfect,

  smile bright.

  The spotlight?

  It’s already

  mine.

  TAM

  It’s so weird

  not having Levi here.

  I mean, he’s here,

  I know that,

  but in different classes . . .

  it’s out of whack,

  topsy-turvy.

  And everywhere I go,

  everywhere I look,

  that cheerleader,

  Ponytail

  from registration day,

  is all over the place,

  like a speck caught in my eye.

  Can’t look away.

  Can’t blink her gone.

  Can’t figure her out.

  It’s like she came from nowhere,

  blotting out the sun,

  except she IS the sun.

  Bright. Bright. Bright.

  I squint in her direction,

  wonder how Levi

  is doing,

  and she squints back

  laughs,

  making me feel as upside down

  as Mom’s ID badge.

  Kate

  The first time we nodded.

  The second time we smiled.

  The third time we waved.

  The fourth time we laughed.

  Seriously.

  Is that Tam girl in ALL my classes?

  TAM

  Everywhere I look

  there’s Kate.

  In class.

  Kate.

  In the hall.

  Kate.

  I close my eyes.

  Kate.

  Kate

  So here’s a weird thing

  that just happened

  that I can’t really explain.

  I walked in the cafeteria,

  saw our usual cheer table,

  the one from last year

  next to the window,

  same view of the trees,

  same dripping AC,

  same everybody

  over there

  eating, noisy,

  waving me over.

  And on the other side of the room

  I saw that girl Tam

  and her little flea-sized friend.

  I stopped in my tracks.

  Sure, I could go to my friends,

  sit and laugh.

  Graham could pull my ponytail,

  I could steal his chips.

 

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