That's What's Up!

by Paula Chase

  Now she’d have some Grapes of Wrath catching up to do over the break.

  Not like she had any other plans, she thought, sulking.

  Later that night she walked into the kitchen, stationing herself on a stool across from her mom, who was busy taking a tuna casserole out of the oven. Lizzie sighed, then scowled. She waited a few seconds then sighed louder and scowled harder.

  Finally, her mom placed the pan down, slipped off oven mitts and folded her arms. “May I help you?” An ironic smile graced her lips, as if she knew what to expect.

  The two of them had played out this scene no less than a dozen times over the last two months. Lizzie played her part accordingly.

  “I’m going to be soooo bored over break.” She slumped dramatically.Elbows splayed on the countertop, she rested her head on her hand, making sure to keep her eyes on her mom. Before her mom could intone her next line, Am I crazy? Or would you not be a reluctant tag-along to one of Mina’s overnight competitions, Lizzie rushed ahead. “I know that I’ve always said the cheer squad gets on my nerves. But that’s never stopped me from having Mina’s back before.”

  Lizzie’s mom went back to dinner prep. She talked over her shoulder.“Elizabeth, we’ve gone over this.” Plates clattered as she gingerly plucked them from a cabinet. She expertly laid down the plates then moved on to forks. “It’s bad enough we have to chauffeur you around for acting classes, auditions and rehearsals. Now you want us to tote you to Mina’s stuff too? Not this time, honey,” she said, not unkindly, scowling down at the forks in her hand. Lost in thought, she turned them over as if she didn’t recognize them, before dumping them in the dishwasher and grabbing several new forks.

  Lizzie watched the preparations dispassionately. Normally, she would help out. But she wanted to make sure her mom knew how frustrated she was. She withheld her assistance and waited on the final boom ...

  “If you didn’t have that midterm, you could go,” her mom said on cue.

  End scene, Lizzie thought bitterly.

  The conversation was as good as over, now. The fact was, she had an Algebra II exam on the day Mina and her parents were leaving for O.C. And despite Lizzie and Mina’s groveling to convince Lizzie’s parents to drive her down that Friday, the O’Reillys weren’t interestedin being in O.C., which would be crawling with fanatic cheer fans and a huge chunk of the Del Rio Bay teen population, thanks to the Extreme falling during spring break.

  Marybeth O’Reilly took inventory of the table. With a satisfied cluck, she turned her full attention back to Lizzie. “Me and Dad will plan something with you, if you want.” She wriggled her eyebrows, ignoring Lizzie’s groan. “We can still be fun.”

  Lizzie’s attempt at a smile, more grimace than grin, fell short.

  She pushed herself upright. “That’s okay. I have studying to do over break.”

  “Um-hmm,” her mom answered absently. “Go tell Dad dinner’s ready.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Lizzie said before skulking off.

  Upper A-Go-Go

  “Here it goes, here it goes, here it goes again.”

  —OK Go, “Here It Goes Again”

  A huge blue duffel bag sat on Mina’s bed, its mouth gaping hungrily,waiting for her to throw more clothes into it. Mina obliged, buzzing about her closet, pulling out every competition necessity—her cheer uni, several pairs of cheer shorts and more spirit tees than she even knew she owned—throwing them toward the bed, mostly missing the bag. Music blared, filling her room, yet the thumping bass was low enough to keep her parents at bay. Her hair, bone straight, hung slightly past her chin, framing her brown-sugar face, and tickled her cheeks as it swung in time to the beat. By the end of the week, her reddish-brown hair would be springy with spiral curls, perfect for pulling into a cute pony for the cheer competition.

  Her entire body tingled. It was like the day before Christmas or the night before your birthday, when you know something big is about to happen and all you can think is Hurry up, tomorrow. Hurry up!

  She’d felt like this ever since being called up to Select Varsity, the new squad Coach Embry had put together in late December.

  Mina had already been flying high after her Junior Varsity team placed third at Counties. It was the first time the high school’s squad had done that well in three years. Then Varsity had placed fourth. Coach Em immediately came up with the brainchild of creating a competition-only squad of the best members from both squads. Coach Embry’s call, the day after Christmas, letting her know she was on the A squad, was Mina’s best gift.

  Cheerleading had consumed her every thought since.

  It apparently never occurred to Coach Em that choosing five out of the eighteen girls from JV would cause hard feelings. Hard feelingsnothing—straight up hatred. Kelis, the JV co-captain, for example.

  She hadn’t made Select and it took the silent, simmering competitionthat had brewed between her and Mina since their days as recreation cheerleaders to new heights.

  Sure, Kelis had given Mina a tight, phony hug in the hall the first time they’d seen each other after the winter break. “Congrats. Hold it down for the fresh fish, girl,” she’d said. But after that, their JV practices had been nothing but a string of arguments as they battled over everything from calling cheers at the basketball games to who would lead stretches at practice—things that they’d already battled over during football season.

  It had erupted in a final, teary locker-room scene over, of all things, ribbons.

  As captain, Mina felt obligated to give each girl an end-of-the-yearspecial gift. The weekend before their last basketball game, she spent an entire day decorating ribbons with each girl’s name and graduation year on them. She’d placed each ribbon in its own little box. They were cute, if she could say so herself, and she couldn’t wait to hand them out. But somehow, between grabbing her books, the boxes and Brian’s basketball hoodie, which he let her wear excepton game nights, she’d grabbed only seventeen boxes. And guess whose box was left behind?

  Kelis had confronted her angrily and next thing Mina knew the squad surrounded them, instantly separating into the Kelis camp and the Mina camp—the same two camps which had formed months earlier when Kelis had kissed Mina’s boyfriend Craig, causing an ugly breakup. But the girls had managed to move past it, Mina for the sake of team unity, Kelis because she never felt truly bad about it in the first place.

  It had taken Coach Em walking into the locker room with the box, dropped off by Mina’s mom, to cool things off. The circle had quickly dissolved and after that game, the two had barely spoken more than an occasional hey.

  Since then, some of the JV girls had threatened not to try out come spring—Kelis among them. But Mina figured, for the girls who really loved cheering (and Kelis was definitely in that mix), being left out would only light the fire and make them work harder to make Select next year—especially if the new squad managed to pull off a win at Nationals.

  A win!

  It seemed almost impossible. They’d be competing with high schools from all over the East Coast—hot squads from Virginia, New Hampshire and as far west as Ohio—who had been going to the Extremefor years. This was DRB High’s first year at the Extreme in five years.

  We can’t win, Mina thought, even as she daydreamed about doing just that. It would be so hot to win. Nothing gained respect at DRB High like being a part of a winning team. Nothing.

  Even as she tried pushing away thoughts of a win at Nationals, she was already thinking about how the Grand Champion jackets that the top team took home would hug her. She wouldn’t care if the jacket was made of wool, she’d be sporting it every day into the heat of summer.

  She laughed out loud at her own schizzy ways. “I know, I’m tripping,ain’t I Chris?” she asked, before blowing a kiss to a huge glossy poster of Chris Brown smiling down at her from the one and only wall her mother allowed her to plaster with posters and miscellaneouscheer memorabilia.

  The creamy yellow of the wall was neatly, but total
ly covered with magazine clippings of the Pretty Ricky/Ne-Yo variety and randomphotos of her and the clique. She honed in on one in particular.

  In it Mina was book-ended by Sara and Kim, who stood in a James Bond pose—fingers steepled mocking a gun, mugging for the camera. The original plan was that she’d hit the Bond pose too, but Brian, who took the picture, made her laugh and instead the camera caught her neck-rolling, fussing good naturedly at him.

  That picture was proof she’d made it.

  The crowded bistro tables of the café loomed large in the background,just in case anyone questioned where it had been taken.

  A National win would be sweet. But as far as Mina was concerned,she’d already taken home the sweetest title—newest memberof the Upper clique.

  She was in with the senior cheerleaders and no matter how shallowit was, it felt good. It felt even better because she’d earned her invite to the café by putting in work on the cheer floor. No crazy hazing from some Upper or buying somebody a Sidekick for the privilege of sitting in the café, for her.

  And the icing on the cake would be three days of bonding at the Extreme with Kim and the other girls on the squad.

  If it weren’t for her aching arms and legs from two consecutive months of daily two-hour practices (including Saturday), she would swear she was dreaming. She would swear that there was no way that just three months ago, her only hope was to not screw anything up as JV captain before she could make a good impression on the varsitygirls—especially Kim.

  Now, she spent two hours a day grinding out the routine that Coach Embry hoped would bring Del Rio Bay High their first NationalChampionship, and grumbling side-by-side with the others that Coach Em was totally trying to kill them. Suicide cycles, three straight tumbling passes until your entire body felt limp, for every single imperfect run-through. Coach Em’s not-so-subtle way of displayingdispleasure.

  Mina winced and unconsciously massaged her wrists. She’d lost count of how many suicides they’d done today. She stopped countingat lucky number seven.

  Without warning, she abruptly stopped mid-groove, tucked her hair behind an ear and cocked her head toward her desk. A tiny strain of horns played beneath the thumping of the hip-hop coming from her speakers. Mina rushed to the desk. Sitting cross-legged in a swivel chair, she settled in at her computer for a chat, grinning at the waiting message from Lizzie.

  Liz-e-O: wad up girlie?

  BubbliMi: nuttin ... packin

  Liz-e-O: 4 the Extreme?! It’s friggin’ like 6 dys awy

  BubbliMi: whas ur point? LOL

  Liz-e-O: ignore me I’m jus hatin’ life since i can’t go

  Mina’s head bobbed in sympathetic understanding. Lizzie had been in a slight funk about missing the Extreme, which tickled Mina since Lizzie’s distaste for cheer competitions was legendary. She knew the real reason Lizzie was bummed was tall, had six-pack abs and a moppish head of unruly blonde hair.

  Having a similar affliction herself, Mina didn’t blame Lizzie for crushing so hard.

  Plus, Todd was super cool. Silly almost to the point of being goofy, but in a hot geeky sort of way that made him perfect for the studious, focused Lizzie. They were the classic opposites that attracted,straight out of a Seventeen mag quiz.

  Mina knew it was killing Lizzie to miss out. If it were her, she’d be climbing the walls right about now, too. She reassured Lizzie, but couldn’t help teasing too.

  BubbliMi: a www, I’ll keep my eye on Todd 4 u

  Liz-e-O: What? That’s not why I’m mad. I want 2 hang out w/u

  during spr brk

  BubbliMi: w/e Liz. It’s ok tht u wanna be w/ur BF

  Liz-e-O: so not my bf ... we’re jus friends ... like good friends

  BubbliMi: like friends that kissed, right? ;-)

  Mina giggled madly, huddling near her screen waiting to pounce. She imagined Lizzie’s face glowing rosy with embarrassment. Lizzie didn’t deny the kiss. Instead she came back with a very weak ...

  Liz-e-O: w/e

  BubbliMi: OMG Liz, it’s ok that u’d rather spend SBk w/him than home w/the rents

  Liz-e-O: yeah. It’s not just Todd tho. wht am I s’posed 2 do all spring brk w/everybody gone?!

  BubbliMi: Cinny and Kelly aren’t going

  Liz-e-O: true. Still ... u’ll b gone, Mike, JZ

  BubbliMi: Todd

  Liz-e-O: Grr! Change the channel, please. Seriously, I think me, Cinny & Kelly will be the only three people under the age of 21 left in the DRB next wkend

  BubbliMi: I keep telling u 2 ask ur mom if she’ll let u ride down w/da guys

  Liz-e-O: and I keep telling u ur crazy!! U know they’ll say no. God Mi, they barely let me ride w/Brian that night he took us to the mall. A 2 hour road trip?! Fuhgedabowid

  BubblMi: LOL I know that’s right. Well ... u, cin and kel get 2 gether and do a girls wkend.

  Liz-e-O: not as much fun w/o u

  Mina’s grin went ear to ear. A pang of best friend love made her heart do a quick step and for a second she felt guilty for looking forward to chilling with the cheer squad. Swiveling in the desk chair, she joked it off.

  BubbliMi: so true

  Liz-e-O: conceited much?! LOL

  BubbliMi: well I know its not da same ... but at least we’re all maxing 2gether sunday.

  Liz-e-O: yeah. Thas kewl

  BubbliMi: I tell u what, climb in my bag and I’ll sneak u down 2 da Xtreme

  Liz-e-O: the bad part is, I totally could fit in ur duffel!

  Mina’s shoulders shook as she howled. She stood up, pushing the chair away with a nudge of her butt.

  BubbliMi: c u girl. Gotta finish packing

  Liz-e-O: ok l8r

  (Un) break•up ’brk-, e p (noun) 1 : an act or instance of breaking up

  “I just wonder, do you think of me?”

  —Ne-Yo, “Do You?”

  Kelly felt like reciting the definition to Angel, but knew it would do no good. She’d been in the “act of” breaking up with him for months now and he still called her regularly, melting her defenses, making it harder and harder for her to stay broken up. She listened intently as he teased, his husky voice accented—a little New York Bronx kick with just enough Puerto Rican accent to make people wonder how long he’d been in America. Laughable, since he hadn’t lived in New York since he was five and had never been to Puerto Rico.

  “So look, girl, stop playing games with me.”

  As usual, Kelly was glued to the phone, anxious and excited by Angel’s prodding. She especially loved how sometimes they’d switch from speaking English to Spanish. As if they were really hiding their conversation from anybody.

  Everyone in Kelly’s household spoke fluent Spanish—always had. Her grandfather was a first-generation Puerto Rican immigrant. He’d worked himself into the high ranks of corporate America by blending in, but when he was home they spoke Spanish. Always.

  He’d been dead five years now. But still, Spanish was the first languagein the Lopez household.

  Just then Angel did it, nearly whispering in Spanish, “You know I’m feeling you, baby girl. Give me a chance.”

  Kelly sighed, closing her eyes. She loved the velvet edge Spanish gave Angel’s voice. But she wouldn’t let herself be pulled in by Mr. Romantic. Because somewhere behind him always came the trash talker.

  “Angel, you know I can’t,” Kelly forced herself to say. Her fingers flitted, moving the same piece of chestnut colored hair behind her ear, pulling it out only to tuck it again.

  “Naw. You can,” Angel said, his voice louder but not yet angry. “You won’t, you mean.”

  “Okay, then I won’t,” Kelly said softly in Spanish, switching becausesometimes speaking it calmed her. She ignored the anxiety gnawing away at her confidence and dove in, in English. “But you’re just as guilty too.”

  “Me?” His voice came back genuinely surprised.

  “Yes.You say you can’t give up the game ... but I think it’s that you won’t.”

  Kelly heard
his sigh come out in a loud, long exhale. She could hear the unspoken, we’ve gone over this a million times. She tried to smooth over the tension that could be felt even through the phone.

  “I’m fine being friends, Angel. I ...”

  “Naw, you fine with me chasing you,” he blasted back. Anger deepened his accent.

  “How am I making you chase me?” Kelly asked, her surprise genuine.

  “Man, forget this,” Angel said. And Kelly could almost hear him pacing as he began cursing in Spanish. He went on for a few seconds then seemed to realize he was still on the phone. He came back, in English. “Your ass ain’t all that.”

  The words stung Kelly but they also made her angry. “Maybe. But who’s been after who for the last four months?”

  And incredibly, Angel hung up on her.

  For a second, Kelly thought it was a dropped call. She called his name a few times to make sure he wasn’t still out there stunned into silence by her strong response.

  But no, he’d definitely hung up. She knew for sure when her phone didn’t ring seconds later with the customary dropped-call dance of apologies. She sat, the Sidekick beside her, in case he called back, and had been staring at the phone a full seven minutes before she realized she wanted it to ring back.

  Okay, so a part of me enjoys him chasing me, she admitted to herself.

  What she didn’t enjoy was Angel acting as if him selling drugs wasn’t a big deal. Kelly had already lied by omission to her grandmother.As far as Grand was concerned Angel was a nice, if not unfortunate,young man. Lying was one thing, continuing the lie was another and Kelly drew the line there. She couldn’t date Angel knowing that huge lie was out there.

  What if she were with Angel and he got busted? A nightmare her grandmother had already lived with Kelly’s parents.