I returned to the art room to find that my new best buds and Mrs. V had a surprise for me. “Look!” Kate said as I joined them. “We’ve been thinking about some other things you can try out for this fall besides sports.” She handed me a slip of paper. It was filled with words written in marker. Each word was in a different color, and a lot of them had cute little drawings, too.
I gratefully took the list from Kate and began to read it aloud.
FALL MUSICAL
“I just don’t know if I can get up and sing in front of a bunch of people,” I said.
“You can be in the chorus,” Danika offered.
“Yeah, but you still have to sing a solo to try out,” I said. “And you have to dance. I look like a chicken when I dance.”
“You could always audition doing the Chicken Dance!” Mrs. V said. We booed and hissed Mrs. V’s bad joke, but we were laughing all the same.
FLAG SQUAD
“Okay, who put this one on the list?” Everyone was chuckling, trying to hide their glee at this obviously mismatched suggestion. “Can you honestly see me in one of those glittery tank tops spinning a flag?”
“Sometimes they twirl rifles,” Kate said, and she and Danika fell into fits of giggles.
SCHOOL MASCOT
“This one is my favorite for you, Toni,” said Mrs. V. “I think a mascot needs to be very athletic. You would make a fearsome shark!”
“That’s true,” said Yuzi. “And a mascot needs to have a sense of humor, and maybe be a little mischievous.”
“You’d be an awesome shark,” Danika chimed in. Kate was nodding her head in agreement.
“Wow, I wouldn’t have thought of trying out for mascot in a million years, but you’re right. It’s dance and theater and sports all rolled into one,” I said.
“Let’s find out when auditions are,” said Kate. I’m learning that when Kate gets excited, sparks fly. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hallway. After checking that Principal Butter was nowhere in sight, she pulled me all the way over to the announcement board by the main offices. And there it was:
ATTENTION RBH STUDENTS: Auditions for the school mascot, Sharkey, will be this coming Monday after school in the gymnasium. Be prepared to perform one skit and one dance in the Sharkey costume. And remember—all potential sharks must be able to complete at least 35 pushups! See you there!
I felt three hands on my shoulder as I turned to face my Secret Keeper Girl sisters. They were looking at me with wide eyes and even wider smiles.
“Good thing you don’t have detention Monday,” Yuzi said.
CHAPTER 6
Mascot Madness
This was without a doubt the dumbest idea I have ever had. Toni Diaz a mascot? Why would I think this had anything other than disaster written all over it?
Before I could make up a dance, I needed to choose my music. Yuzi came to my house to help, and after we watched a couple Saturday morning cartoons, we got right to work.
“What we need,” Yuzi explained, “is something fun and spirited, but also a lot simpler than it sounds. No offense, but you are a rookie, right?”
“If rookie means hopeless, then yes,” I said.
“Stop it!” Yuzi gave me a playful shove. “We can’t have that attitude, young lady shark! I just meant you haven’t danced before. Now, we want to pick music that stands out from what the others will use.”
“Everyone else will use hip-hop,” I said.
“Exactly! That’s why I brought these.” Yuzi reached into her bag and tossed about ten CDs on my bed.
“Wow, you actually use CDs? That’s very old school of you,” I teased.
“These, Toni, are my mom’s Nigerian CDs,” she said.
“You mean like tribal music?” I asked.
“No, it’s kind of like reggae and pop. Here, listen.” Yuzi grabbed my laptop and threw the CD in. I still thought it sounded like African tribal music, but it was pretty cool. It was definitely dance music.
By lunchtime Yuzi had taught me some easy moves, and we both agreed that Sharkey would look hilarious doing the dance. We could barely get through it without cracking up. Even my mom came in to see our masterpiece, and she left the room crying from laughing so hard. We had a hit on our hands.
After we ate the grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup that my mom made for us, we headed back upstairs to tackle the skit. During lunch we had decided to base the skit around our number one football rival, the Riverside Pirates.
“Okay,” said Yuzi, “what are pirates known for?”
“You mean other than getting crushed by Shark football?” I asked.
Yuzi rolled her eyes. “You have to think like a mascot now,” she said. “Mascots don’t win or lose. They just entertain.”
“I’d rather hit people than entertain them,” I said. I saw Yuzi’s horrified look. “I mean in football!”
“I can be the pirate for you,” Yuzi offered. “I’ll dress up in a pirate costume and you can make me walk the plank or something.”
“Yuzi, that’s perfect!” I squealed. “You can wear an eye patch and we’ll put a fake bird on your shoulder.”
“I’ll have a coat hanger coming out of me sleeve like a hook!”
I laughed at Yuzi’s pirate accent. “And I can be circling underneath the gangplank, just waiting for you to fall in!” I added.
“Aaargh!” Yuzi growled. “And I’ll poke you with me hook!” When my dad got home we convinced him to help out with the audition, too. His pickup truck would be the pirate ship, and he said he would make a “gangplank” that came off the tailgate.
Just before Yuzi’s parents arrived to pick her up, we called Kate and Danika to tell them our plans. “Now that would be a great skit for the Miss Teeny Pop contest!” Danika said with awe in her voice. Both promised to come watch the auditions Monday afternoon. I fell into bed that night so satisfied with my new friends and the hope of becoming a new Toni Diaz—Mascot Extraordinaire!
It was impossible to focus during any of my classes. I was so nervous that I couldn’t even eat lunch, and I don’t mind admitting that lunch is my all-time favorite school subject. After school I met Yuzi and my dad at the gate that leads to the track and football field. My dad is amazing. He spent all day painting his truck with washable paint. He made it look like an old wooden ship, and he even took a big Styrofoam ball, painted it black, cut it in half, and made it look like the “ship” had been hit by a couple of cannon balls.
“Daddy, thank you!” I threw my arms around my dad’s massive neck. He picked me up and swung me through the air just like he’s done ever since I was a little girl.
“Anything for my princess,” he said. I rolled my eyes, but the truth is I love it when he calls me that.
The dance part of my audition went perfectly. I was insanely grateful for the big shark costume that hid my identity, since the guys were practicing football just fifty yards away. As I finished the last part of the routine, I looked up into the stands. Through the tiny slits that make up Sharkey’s eyes, I saw Kate and Danika whooping and jumping up and down.
Right on cue my dad drove his pickup onto the track behind me, and Yuzi, in full costume and totally acting the part of a pirate, hopped out. The small audience in the stands roared for her.
Yuzi and I both jumped up on the back of the pickup truck. We had a short sword fight that ended with Yuzi losing her sword. Then I struck a very bossy pose and pointed at the gangplank. Yuzi looked scared and shook her head no.
I nodded my Sharkey head up and down. Yes!
Finally, I grabbed Yuzi and I pretended to force her onto the plank. She bit her nails in fear—the nails on her left hand, that is. Her right hand was a perfectly formed coat-hanger hook.
I jumped to the ground and began circling under the plank while the sound guy, also right on cue, began playing scary music from an old movie called Jaws. My mom helped me download the song. She told me it played every time the movie shark was about to chomp somebody’s a
rm off. Yuzi paced back and forth; I could tell she loved doing this.
And that’s when the sky fell. Or, that’s when a football fell from the sky. I’ve always said Trevor can’t kick a football to save his life. His sorry attempt at a field goal drilled poor Yuzi right in her little pirate head, and before she could regain her balance she fell on top of Sharkey, which happened to be me.
I keep playing the moment over and over again in my head. Me looking up to see Yuzi falling, Yuzi looking petrified, Yuzi putting out her hands to brace herself. And Yuzi’s coat-hanger hook ripping through the clean gray fabric of Sharkey’s custom-made, very expensive belly.
As I lay in the grass, Yuzi was squirming to get off of me and the crowd laughed uncontrollably. No one laughs at sharks. Maybe I’m more of a clown fish.
I’m never gonna hear the end of this! I thought.
CHAPTER 7
Chicana Power
If it was only Sharkey’s costume that suffered from that fall, I think I would laugh, too. But it took a good three minutes to get me back on my feet because Yuzi’s hook-hand was buried wrist-deep in the belly of my costume. This allowed enough time for the football team to rush to the fence in order to see what the commotion was all about.
As soon as I lifted the shark’s toothy head off my shoulders, the entire team began to point and laugh. Trevor, whose terrible kick caused all of the excitement, led the way.
“Nice work, Diaz!” he hooted. “I had no idea you had so many talents.”
Oh, how I wish the teeth in Sharkey’s head were real.
“I was just wondering,” he continued, “do you think you could throw me our football? It seems to have landed near your ship.” A bunch of the guys laughed.
“That’s because you can’t kick,” I growled in return. “You hit Yuzi in the head!”
“How do you know I wasn’t trying to do that?” He smiled, but it was a mean smile. The kind you might expect to see on an alligator just before it rips into its prey.
“I’ve seen you kick, that’s how,” I said. “If you actually hit what you aimed at, then today is a first.”
“All right you two, knock it off.” Coach Klutz stepped between us on Trevor’s side of the fence and smiled in my direction. “You still sitting this season out, Diaz?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.” I looked down and kicked the gravel at my feet.
“That’s too bad,” Coach said. “We sure could use you.” He glanced quickly at Trevor and then sent the football team back to their practice field. The truth is, Trevor’s not actually a horrible kicker. It’s just so hard to like the kid because he can’t keep his mouth shut. Sure enough, after taking about ten steps back toward the field Trevor had to turn around again and have the last word.
“Diaz, we still need the ball,” he said. “How about you just flip it to me with your little shark fins!”
I walked as slowly as I could to the football lying by my dad’s truck. Yuzi went to pick it up, but I shook my head no and she understood. Still moving slowly, just to irritate Trevor, I slipped out of Sharkey’s tattered costume and picked up the football. I made solid eye contact with Trevor, and then I booted that football in a straight, high spiral right into the middle of the practice field. From the sidelines where they were lined up for sprints, Smitty and Beast and a bunch of other guys threw their fists in the air and shouted, “Whooo!” Then they started chanting, “Toni! Toni! Toni!”
Trevor scowled at me, but at least for now he was done shooting off his mouth.
Dad laughed the whole way home.
We pulled into the driveway and my heart sank even further. There was Milo’s little yellow pickup truck. I felt a wave of nausea thinking of the last words I had spoken to him: You’re fired.
Dad was still lost in his joy over the events of the afternoon. “Oh man,” he said with a huge smile as he exited the truck. “I think it’s going to be a long time before I laugh this hard again. Please tell me someone caught that on camera.”
I looked at him in horror. “If that gets out on video I’ll never be able to show my face again!” I said.
“If what gets out on video?” Milo and Marcos emerged from the garage, sweaty from a game of basketball on the backyard court. Milo grabbed me and gave me a big squeeze, as if nothing had ever happened between us.
“Your sister made mascot history today,” Dad said, and he proceeded to tell the entire humiliating story all over again as all three guys laughed and held their sides.
“Dude, I am so posting that video tonight,” Marcos said. “Dustin’s mom was in charge of that tryout, I think. I’m gonna go call him. Way to go, Big Foot!”
He acted like I had just won a state playoff game or something. But I hadn’t. All I did was embarrass myself in front of the entire football team and all of the other mascot wannabes. Again I felt a wave of longing pass through me—why can’t I just kick for the football team?
My dad followed Marcos into the house, leaving me alone with Milo. “You want to go play catch, Mija?” he asked.
“I guess.” I shrugged. I followed him through the garage and into our fenced backyard. Philly and Eagle, our overly hyper Dalmatians, jumped against me with delight as I emerged from the garage carrying a football. I threw a couple of old tennis balls to the far corner of the yard and watched as the dogs sailed gracefully over the grass.
“So why did you come home?” I asked.
“I thought I’d hang out with you a little bit,” he said.
“It’s the middle of the week,” I said. “Don’t you have classes?”
“You want to know a secret about college?” he asked. “What?”
“Well, first of all, all of my classes have like three hundred people in them,” he said.
I could feel my eyes getting big. “Whoa,” I said. “That’s like a whole school almost.”
“Yeah,” he said. “No one really notices when you’re gone.”
“I’ll bet you skip a lot of classes then,” I said. I threw the tennis balls for Eagle and Philly again, this time into the swimming pool. The dogs splashed headfirst into the cold water.
“No skipping,” he said, and he motioned for me to back up a little so we could throw the football. “If you miss a lot of classes in college you won’t pass. That’s like an unwritten rule.”
“So you put your college career in jeopardy to come see me,” I teased him.
Thwap. The tight spiral Milo threw hit me squarely in the hands.
“Pretty much.” He grinned.
“Maybe I should give you back your job as fan club president then,” I said, still feeling pretty bad about how I treated him my first day in detention.
“I humbly accept.” Milo gave a low bow. “So … as president of your fan club I have to ask, what is your next move?”
I tossed the ball back to him. “Don’t know,” I said.
“Soccer?” he asked, and I noticed that his eyes looked hopeful.
“Nope.” I shook my head defiantly.
“See, Toni, that’s what I don’t get,” Milo said. “It’s like you were created to be an athlete. Why are you running from it?”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m going to play basketball and softball. But there has to be more to me than sports.”
“There’s a lot more to you than sports,” Milo said. “You’re smart, you’re funny. In fact …”
Milo’s eyes got wide and he began bobbing his head up and down like he was about to bust a big dance move. I knew exactly what was coming. I struck a wide pose with my feet, put my hands on my knees, and moved my head the same way.
“What do I see?” Milo shouted.
“Hispanic panic!” I shouted back.
“What do I need?” Milo was even louder now.
“A Diaz, plee-az!” I matched him. “And what do I know?” Milo roared. “This chica can beat ya!”
“Hey—some people actually have homework to do!” Marcos stuck his head out of his second-story window, and he looke
d more than just a little irritated. But Milo and I were not to be quieted. Milo picked me up and ran, with me on his shoulders, to a spot directly underneath Marcos’s window.
“Chicana power!!!”
Our voices lifted in unison, with fists raised high in the air, were met by the perfect aim of Marcos … and a full bucket of ice-cold water landing on our heads.
CHAPTER 8
Rubber Ducky
If someone had told me a month ago that Danika McAllister and I would be friends—that I would be calling her cell phone and actually talking to her—I would never have believed it. I mean, Kate’s favorite rock star, Alayna Rayne, and I were more likely to become friends than Danika and me.
Still, here she was, picking up my call on its second ring.
“Hi, Toni!” Danika’s been having a tough time lately. All of her old friends, the popular crowd, have pretty much disowned her. Those girls can make it really hard on you when they decide they don’t like you.
“I’m hoping you can hook me up with a favor,” I said.
“Sure!” she said. “So what’s your favor?”
“Well, I’ve been looking at the list you made for me in detention last week …”
“Sweet!” Danika said. “You gonna try something else?”
“I think I want to try out for the school musical,” I said, almost with a question in my voice.
“Toni, that’s awesome!” Danika said. “Tell me that’s the favor you want! I’ll coach you to get ready.”
“That’s the favor,” I said.
“This is so Cool. Can you come over after school tomorrow?” she asked me.
“I think so,” I said. “I’m still grounded, but since it’s a school thing, I think my mom will want me to try out and everything. Tomorrow’s the only day we have. Tryouts are Wednesday.”
Secret Keeper Girl Fiction Series Page 7