Merry thought for a moment. “Just say . . . anything that doesn’t sound like me. I can’t think. I’ll catch up with you between classes because we’re already going to be late.”
The bell pealed.
“Well,” Merry said with a huff, “at least we can take our time now. We both have to go get passes. I’ll figure out what to write, and you can drop it off now. Another great benefit of being a medium or whatever we are. So many late passes you get a detention.”
The twins were suddenly alone in the hall.
Or so they thought.
“I don’t want to interrupt you,” Eden said softly. She had appeared beside them without a sound. Like . . . a cat. “I just have a letter for you, Mal. I didn’t think you’d want to wait until Friday night for it.”
“A letter?” Merry asked. “Who wrote Mallory a letter? Do you have some pen pal?”
“It’s a relative of Eden’s I met,” Mallory said quickly. “It’s an athlete.”
“It’s a guy,” Merry said, her smile a bow that unwrapped and widened and widened into a ribbon. “You like a guy.”
“Merry!” Mally scolded her. “Don’t start now of all times!” The three girls stood in the deserted hallway. Now all three of them needed to go for passes. But the larger question of the envelope in Mallory’s hand vibrated in the space between them.
Eden said, “I thought you’d have told your sister.”
“Told me what? What? What?” Merry asked, the thought of Mallory with a crush blotting all other thoughts from her consciousness. She shifted her huge bag and her books and dropped the purse, and a glittering array of things went flying, from wrist bangles to tubes of lip gloss to spare pairs of shoelaces. All three of them scattered to gather Merry’s things, which had rolled under lockers and against closed classroom doors.
“We might as well get Mrs. Dettweiler to include this in the daily announcements tomorrow before the National Anthem,” Mally said. “My sister has a mouth bigger than her purse.”
“I’m sorry, Mal,” Eden said. “I assumed you told her everything.”
“Everything?” Mallory exclaimed, widening her eyes significantly.
“I mean, about stuff like this.”
“Mallory Arness Brynn,” said Merry. “Who is he? Where does he go to school?”
“Boston,” Mallory said.
“He’s in college?”
“No. Prep school.”
“Prep school? A preppie? You mean it’s . . .”
“Meredith, he’s my brother, Cooper. My younger brother. He goes to Boston Flanders.”
“I knew it was him! Why didn’t you tell me? This is why you walk around the house like a sick cat all the time and don’t eat anymore! Cooper! It was at the powwow, right? I’ll never ask again if you tell me right now. Even Edie thinks you should tell me.”
They’d made their way, walking almost in a moving circle, to the Commons, and the attendance secretary, Mrs. Flecker, was motioning to them from the glassed-in wall of the principal’s office.
“Nothing. We walked. And we just talked,” Mallory said.
“You made out!”
“No! Not like that!”
“Okay, not like that! But you did something. Dad will throttle you until you are dead.”
“But he’ll never know because I’ll throttle you until you’re dead if he does,” Mallory said evenly. “Plus, I can’t go out with him even if I wanted to.”
“He told me that my grandmother gave you an Indian name after all,” Eden said.
Mally rolled her eyes, imagining how this sounded to her sister. Couldn’t Edie shut up? By dinnertime, Merry would be telling their parents she was engaged. She pleaded, “Really, Merry, we’re just friends.”
“But you don’t wanna be.”
“Maybe,” Mallory admitted. “I like him. I like him more than I ever thought I’d like a guy, but he’s not here.”
“You’re wanted in the attendance office,” said a familiar voice behind Mallory.
She turned slowly and faced Drew Vaughn.
How long had he been there? Long enough. His normally wisecracker face was rigid as a wooden mask.
Oh, hell,Mally thought. Now I’ve hurt my buddy over one kiss that will never mean anything. And why does Drew like me anyhow and what do I care if he does?Except,she thought, I do.You can’t like two people when you never even considered liking one until a couple of months ago.Drew turned sharply and walked away. As a RUS (a Responsible Upperclassman Student) he could leave school and roam at will during study halls. He got service credits for helping out in the office. “Drewsky!” Mallory called after him. He didn’t look back.
The girls hurried toward the office.
It was the purse dropping and the letter that did it.
For the rest of the day, while Mallory sweated out a test on The Scarlet Letter and Merry effortlessly translated Le Petit Prince, neither of them thought more about the ambulance dream. They were kids, Mallory would think later, and it was too much.
It was not until Merry was changing into her tryout clothes, mentally practicing her routines and her tumbling, that she remembered that she hadn’t left a note for Coach.
They would try out in alphabetical order.
“Brynn” came first.
BASKET CATCH
Meredith had to make a choice. And she had a split second to make it.
Would she hold back and be cautious, for fear that Mally’s dream might come true?
Was “might” the key word, she wondered, as she slowly mounted the steps to the stage, measuring mentally how much of a run she could make and still not hit the edge of the stage if she did her round-off, flip, round-off combination? She would have had enough room if she were to do it in her living room (her mother had yelled at her often enough that she would be spending her allowance on lamps for the next year if she didn’t stop using Campbell’s carpets as practice mats).
She could do it . . . but was a fall the way it was supposed to happen?
Did her own suspicions about Kim cast her old friend in the role of victim or villain?
Ster, she called. She concentrated with all her might. Ster, tell me. See Kim. The silence echoed inside her head.
The varsity cheerleaders who would be participating as spotters waited on the stage with big smiles for Merry. She was a favorite. She’d heard the whispers. Little dynamite. The personality-plus twin.
Merry smiled back. But her lip quivered.
Coach Everson said, “Meredith, let’s start with the dance to ‘Knock ’em Dead.’ Okay?”
Merry’s heart slowed and her breathing normalized. Nobody could get hurt in a dance. The music began and she concentrated on making her smile natural as she stepped left, left, left, then shook it, shook it, hip, hip, hip—in a circle—then reached, flipped her wrist, dip, high V, drop to one knee.
“Merry, let’s try that again with a combination the varsity squad does. Caitlin and Alli, you come up, too. And Neely. Watch Angela and then do it with her,” said Coach Everson.
This was no no-brainer dance. Merry had to pay attention. But she didn’t miss a step. Next, Kim and the others repeated the same drill. Kim avoided her smile and wouldn’t look into Merry’s eyes.
But soon, Merry was so into the spirit of the competition that she flipped forward and back with such energy and effort that Pam Door started to applaud before she caught herself.
“You’re going to be tough on me,” Neely whispered to her.
Because her last name began with a C, Neely came next. Merry couldn’t rip her eyes away. Neely was as fluent as rain; she tumbled without a single clump or stammer. From a standing position, Neely could flip front and back—a move Merry still needed her hands to do. It was a display of power that Coach Everson quickly pointed out was unnecessary but impressive. “That’s a competition move . . . and not really that either.” Coach smiled at Merry, then furiously began making notes.
Neely was blond and had visible boobs a
nd knew how to flirt and was a powerhouse.
“Okay,” Coach Everson said, “now stunting.” The mounts took the stage and the varsity cheerleaders filled in.
“Merry, let’s see a lib and an arabesque and we’ll drop into a nice basket catch. Okay now . . .”
They all heard the raucous, deafening metallic alarm. Over and over, it bellowed, the sound a red presence in the air.
Coach Everson stood up. “Girls, follow in an orderly procession. Leave your things here. That’s not a planned fire drill.”
One after another, the girls walked briskly into the hall, where lines of athletes left practice, all making their way toward the flagpole outside. As the fire engines pulled up and the firefighters plunged into the school, Meredith sidled up to Mallory.
“Did you hear me call you?”
“You mean, was it just luck that the fire alarm went off?” Mally answered without moving her lips. Merry nodded. “No. There’s a real fire. In the art room. There’s a bunch of papers on fire in a big bin.”
“Did you see it? I mean see it?” Merry asked.
“I started it. I don’t know who pulled the fire alarm,” Mallory said. “What else could I do? We forgot all about it because you’re so nosy and had to drop your bag!”
Meredith gasped. “You . . . started a fire?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re blaming me? Because I was shocked that you even had a personal life?”
“Please, let’s not end the day with us in jail. Fire isn’t dangerous to us. Grandma said.”
“It is to other people.”
“It was a closed metal bin, Mer, and anyhow, I had to, before the stunting. I just remembered the little gold rings, three rings on two fingers of each hand. I thought of them and I remembered where I saw them. It was at Neely’s.”
“Neely doesn’t have those,” Merry said.
“I didn’t say she did. I said I saw them at Neely’s. Who was your mount?”
“Pam Door and . . . and . . . Kim,” Merry whispered.
“Did you look around today?”
“No, I didn’t think.”
“Well,” Mallory said grimly, “I did.”
They both glanced at Kim Jellico, who was facing slightly away, watching as the firefighters hauled out the smoking metal bin.
As the timer turned on the school’s outside lights in the November dusk, the twins saw six gold rings wink on Kim’s small, slender fingers.
TWO FOR THE SHOW
The morning after the fire that truly wasn’t, and the tryout that truly wasn’t either, Coach Everson posted a notice on the door of the cheerleaders’ changing room: THERE WILL BE NO THIRD SESSION FOR MID-SEASON TRYOUTS. PLEASE MEET AFTER THE LAST BELL IN THE LITTLE THEATER FOR THE RESULTS.
Tingling, Meredith rushed past her classmates and slid into the front row in the little theater, clasping hands with Caitlin.
Coach Everson stepped out onto the stage with Pam Door.
“Girls, there’s no reason to attempt a third tryout. We don’t seem fated to have one. And in any case, from what we saw, what we have is a dynamite group of junior varsity girls, and you too, Kellen,” she added, for the benefit of Crystal’s older brother, the only guy on the squad. “But only two of you really stood out as ready for varsity level. It was a very hard choice.” Meredith had to gasp: She realized she had forgotten to breathe. “We’re going to offer those spots to our old friend Kim Jellico and our new friend Neely Chaplin.”
Neely smiled gently and lowered her eyes. “I hope nobody hates me for this,” she said softly. Kim got up from her seat and ran from the auditorium.
“NO ONE is going to hate you for it,” said Coach Everson. “I’m certain of that. Girls. Girls, am I right? Where’s Kim? Well, let’s all head into the end of the football season with more spirit than ever before, okay?” There was a stunned murmur of agreement, and several girls turned puzzled, sad faces toward Merry.
No pity, Merry thought.
Though Meredith believed she had turned to stone, she somehow reached out to give Neely’s shoulder a squeeze. As Merry gently removed her hand, Neely put her own hand on top of Meredith’s.
She whispered, “I can’t believe you didn’t make it and I did. Especially since you have all the history and you’re so cute! I mean, I’m thrilled and I deserved it, but I thought they wouldn’t be so open to an outsider!”
You are soooo modest, Merry thought but told Neely, “Coach always says the only fix is talent and hard work. There’s no favoritism.”
As the rest of the girls, either rushing or pausing to gossip in bewildered knots of two or three, drifted toward the doors, Neely stopped Meredith. “Do you mind if I ask you something? It was like you were, I don’t know, distracted. Were you? Am I out of line for asking?”
“No,” Merry said. “And yeah, a little. I don’t mean you were out of line. I mean, I have a lot on my mind besides cheer squad.”
“Do you want to work out with me ever? I mean, I’m not trying to be a jerk. . . .”
In Merry’s mind swirled a vortex of images and half-formed thoughts. How bold had her lib stand really been? Had the bobble she felt in her arabesque really been visible? Did Kim move on purpose, to put Merry off balance? Why had Kim been crying in Merry’s dream? Who wouldn’t be distracted by knowing that her best friend’s dead brother would have been a murdering psycho if Merry and Mally hadn’t stopped him? David would have killed Merry that day at Crying Woman Ridge, and Kim would never know the hell Mallory went through, hearing Merry cry out for her with her mind, saying good-bye!
But Kim didn’t know.
That was the point.
Kim had been out in the dark with some creeps, when she should have been with Merry and her real friends. Kim had nothing to do with David. Kim deserved a little happiness . . . the Kimmie she knew, who made mud cupcakes with her when they were six and the real kind for Will Brent’s birthday when they were twelve.
Kimmie.
If she had been out there, alone, getting drunk or worse, was it all Kim’s fault? Or was pretty, popular Merry, whose lead everyone followed, just as much to blame?
“So, can you come over again? Maybe Friday?” Neely asked.
“Sure, but right now I have to go see someone.”
To Merry’s shock, Neely’s eyes brimmed. “Yeah. Mallory. I know,” she said. “I really always knew you were twins. You have everything. You have a twin and she’s cool and she defends you and you have . . . a little sister?”
“A brother. Feel lucky. He’s a complete pain.”
“But you have one! I don’t have anybody or anything but this. Oh, sure, makeup and clothes and CDs and shoes.”
Poor baby! Merry thought. What I wouldn’t give up for all that . . . certainly Adam.
But Neely went on, “Merry, it doesn’t make up for your dad being gone half the time and your mom the other half. I mean, I’m absolutely proud of them. But there’s not going to be a special dinner tonight at my house because I made it. There would just be a big total silence if I didn’t.”
Merry’s good heart arm-wrestled her writhing envy of the mental picture of Neely with her varsity letter—and won.
“Look,” she said. “I’d like to work out with you. And you should hang out with us. Even if we are just small-town girls.”
“But I think that’s great! Everyone knows everyone else and you’re all, like, ‘Hi, what did you do last night?’ I feel like the princess in the tower.”
Oh, please, that has to be so difficult, Merry thought. Neely really had to get a grip on her mouth. But she was probably halfway a decent kid. And would Meredith really like to trade the almost-hundred-year-old house on Pilgrim Street for Neely’s sprawling brick castle? Yes, she decided, she would—but not Mally, her funny lopsided bedroom or even the thoroughly aggravating Adam. A rush of love for her tough, skinny little brother possessed her. Neely was all alone, and so was Kim. “You put Ridgeline down so much,” she said to Neely.
<
br /> “What do you do if you can’t be part of something?”
Pretend like I didn’t want it anyway,Merry thought and nodded. She was only half listening to Neely, looking everywhere for Kim. She wanted to hug Kim, and she wanted to sock her. Because of Kim, Merry might not have made varsity. Because of Kim, Crystal had to sit out her season and have months of physical therapy.
But what would drive Kim to do that?
“Maybe I can stay at your house sometime,” Neely said shyly.
Huh? Oh, Neely was still there!
Merry said, “Neely, you’d hate it. Nothing is new. Our workout room is a part of the basement that’s carpeted. My bathroom is a closet!” But there were advantages to being Neely’s friend. Maybe I can finally try that indoor pool too.Maybe Neely felt warm fuzzies about trading outfits with her really nice but less-fortunate friends.
“I’d like to come over. Really. Unless you don’t want me to.”
“Well, sure, but there’s no crab puffs and no Bailey’s!” Merry said with a laugh. “My mom has antennae and eyes in the back of her head!”
“That’s not all bad. She notices you at least,” Neely said. “What mother would let her kid drink?”
And suddenly, Meredith thought, I know one who wouldn’t. Bonnie wouldn’t, if she could see Kimmie. But Bonnie didn’t notice. Not since David died. And how could Kim tell her mom about her lousy friends, that they scared her even as they accepted her, after everything her parents went through already?
Neely got into her big “limo,” waving.
Merry zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands into the pockets. It was then that she saw Kim Jellico, in the corner made by the last of the eight school entrance doors and the huge circular wall of the theater. Kim wore her hoodie up and had her face turned into the wind.
“Kim,” Merry said softly. Kim didn’t look at her. “You made it! I’m so proud of you. You must be so excited.” Kim didn’t look excited. Merry decided to try an idea. “You know, I just found out the stupidest thing. I’m totally embarrassed because of some of the stuff we say about Coach Everson and guys and stuff in the outfitting room. Did you know there’s a video camera in the ceiling in there? I guess they put it in years ago when someone was stealing someone else’s stuff out of her locker!”
Look Both Ways Page 11