Revenge of the Titan

by Zoe Evans

  Although, now that I think about it, sometimes Katie does her own thing and wears something that the other Titans typically wouldn’t wear. Like the other week, I went to watch the Titans cheer for a home baseball game (also, Jacqui wanted to watch this uh-dorable baseball player who she’s always thought was cute). After the game, Katie changed out of her uniform and was wearing one of those big floppy straw hats you usually see on the beach or by the pool. But she totally pulled it off. Seriously, I’ve never seen a Titan in a hat before. So of course, by the following week, the rest of the team had caught on and, like, five Titans wore floppy hats to school.

  “Hmm,” said Lanie, slurping the last sip or two of her milk. “Knowing them, they’re probably just going to point out OTHER people’s fashion mistakes.”

  I nodded. “That sounds more like it.”

  We still had some time to kill before our study period was over—and since we hadn’t gotten in trouble yet for not actually being in the library, I figured there was no point in heading there then.

  Lanie looked at her phone. “Hey, do you mind if I ditch you? Marc said he had a cool idea he wanted to run by me for the paper.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just leave me for a boy and see if I care,” I said.

  “Maddy!” Lanie chided. “You know I’m not like that!”

  “Just joshing. Go on, go see Loverboy.”

  Lanie sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. Make fun all you want. . . .”

  I went to the Lounge and found a cozy spot against the wall to write. I can’t shake this feeling that something fishy is going on about us not getting our booth. Clementine has been acting so strange around me lately (I know, not like she’s ever been my BFF or anything), so if she decided to mess with our booth idea, I would so not be surprised. I wonder if I should maybe try to talk to Katie about it first? Or would that be awkward? Katie never seems in the mood to say anything bad about her friend. I guess I understand. If the roles were reversed, and Katie complained to me about Lanie, I’d probably clam up too. But then again, Lanie would never do something to deliberately hurt someone else.

  Okay, one more class before lunch. As Mom would say, later alligator! (Does anyone use that expression anymore?)

  THAT NIGHT, ABOUT TO PASS OUT FROM FOOD COMA

  Confession: I just finished an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food. I’ve taken out my frustration about the Spring Fair on ice cream! Uggghhh. Here’s how the rest of the day played out: I kept trying to pin down Clementine about the booth thing, but she was like a clever ghost: I’d see her and she’d disappear around a corner before I had a chance to talk to her. I am pretty sure she was trying to avoid talking to me.

  FINALLY, it was time for math class. (No, I wasn’t rejoicing about the quiz we had that day. This was the one place I’d be able to corner the girl.)

  I hustled to my usual seat and spotted Katie walking in as soon as I put my bag down. Which reminded me, I hadn’t even told her my idea for the Luc visit yet. I’d been so wrapped up in my booth getting rejected, I hadn’t even thought to tell her!

  “Hey, Katie,” I said, scooting into the empty seat next to her.

  “Oh, Madison, I am dead meat.” Katie had her bag open on her desk and was pulling out papers, pens, hair elastics, and various lip-gloss colors. “I can’t find my notes for the quiz, and I didn’t even study!” She put her perfect ponytailed head in her hands and breathed deeply in and out in frustration.

  “It’s just one quiz,” I said, hoping to make her feel better.

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “I failed my last two quizzes, and if I don’t pass this one, my grade is going to go way down. I’ve just been so caught up in cheer season. We have, like, a million games one on top of another.”

  “I wish WE had that problem,” I said, more to myself than to her. I know the Grizzlies would kill to cheer at another “real” game, like baseball, lacrosse, or even track. Lately we’d still just had Grizzly-type games to cheer at (think Math League, Chess League, Debate Team, and now, Bowling League). And as exciting as it is to watch a group of nerds scratch their heads over where their knight should go, we’d all rather be on the field with the athletes instead of the mathletes.

  I ran to my desk and pulled out the study sheet I’d put together last night. “Here,” I said, unfolding it on her desk. “Just take a quick look, and this should about cover it.”

  Katie looked up at me gratefully. “Thanks, Madison.”

  “Hey, and after class I want to tell you about my idea for when Luc is in town, K?”

  Katie’s face seemed to instantly perk up. I saw her look toward the door, probably to make sure Clem hadn’t come in yet. “Oh, tell me quick?”

  “Okay,” I said. “I found this really cool art gallery in the city that is also like a lounge. They’re showing some street art stuff.”

  “Street art?”

  “Yeah, like graffiti artists that I guess are being seen as, like, real artists or something. Plus they have amazing desserts.”

  “Sounds familiar,” she said. “I feel like maybe I read about it somewhere.” She bit her lip as if trying to remember how she’d heard of the place. “Eh, can’t remember. But yeah, that sounds like an awesome idea.”

  “Cool,” I said, satisfied that I was the one to come up with the go-to plan. “So, next Saturday?”

  “Sounds perfect. Thanks, Madison, you’re really saving the day today,” she said. Just then the smile was wiped from her face. “I, uh, gotta take a look at this before Mr. Hobart starts class.”

  “Yeah, sure, of course,” I said. As I walked back to my seat, I saw the reason Katie got all hush-hush all of a sudden. Clementine had just entered the building. Now was my chance.

  “Clementine,” I said, as she passed my seat.

  She turned to me and put her finger to her lips. “Shhh, Madison. A little respect? Mr. H is about to start class.” She smiled at her own cleverness, gave an air kiss to Katie, and settled in her seat. Grrrr!

  I quickly texted Lanes: “Can’t get hold of Clem. Impossible!”

  To top off this FANTASTIC (totally being sarcastic here) day, Grizzly practice was super intense. We had to go over our cheers for the Bowling League, PLUS work on everything for Get Up and Cheer! People were still getting confused about the timing of the synchronized parts of our competition routine. Like, Tabitha Sue and Katarina were supposed to go to the floor while Jacqui, Jared, and I did cartwheels and round-offs across the stage and Ian and Matt did hand motions. Then Tabitha Sue and Katarina were supposed to transition into hand motions while the three of us did the floor sequence. For some reason, both Tabitha Sue and Katarina started doing the tumbling motions instead, completely knocking the sequence out of whack! Also, no matter how many times Jacqui and I told Matt and Ian to make sure not to bend their wrists during hand motions, they kept slipping.

  “Sharp movements, guys! Make those broken Ts snap!” I kept yelling.

  “One more time, starting with hands on hips and eyes on the crowd,” Jacqui kept saying every time we started over.

  So we were stuck practicing that one part over and over and over. By the time we were done running through the routine a million times, people were bumping into each other and tripping over their own feet from exhaustion (and probably confusion). Even worse, they all started to complain a lot more.

  In the middle of our hundredth run-through, Tabitha Sue, sweating buckets, just collapsed right onto the floor. “I stink!” she exclaimed. “I can’t do this!”

  “Tabitha Sue, of course you can,” said Jacqui.

  She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes (Tabitha Sue has a flair for being overly dramatic at times). “No, I’ve practiced and practiced, and I STILL can’t get it right! And the competition is practically any day now!”

  “We’ll be fine, Tabitha Sue,” I said. “We have a few more weeks before the big day.”

  “I’m feeling pretty doomed too,” said Jared. “We’re gonna make fools of ou
rselves out there.”

  “Hey, hey, people!” said Ian. “I think we need a group huddle.”

  “Yeah, bro!” said Matt exuberantly.

  Jacqui and I looked at each other like, “Huh? What is happening?” because WE’RE usually the ones to start the pep talks.

  Matt helped usher everyone into a huddle. “Okay, so this is something Ian and I always did with the football guys when we were feeling psyched out of a game.”

  Ian smiled knowingly. “Jared, how much are you dying to show your drama friends that there’s more to you than just musical dance routines? That you can somersault with the best of them?”

  The corners of Jared’s mouth curved into a smile. “Well, yeah. Of course I want to do all that.”

  Next, Ian locked eyes on Katarina. “Katarina, tell me you’re not super hungry to nail that scorpion when you’re on top of the pyramid?”

  “Erm, hungry?” said a confused-looking Katarina. “I just had the snack, right before the practice.”

  Matt shook his head. “Sorry, that was slang. I mean, don’t you want to get that scorpion perfect?”

  Katarina laughed at her misunderstanding. “Of course!”

  Next it was Tabitha Sue’s turn. Ian looked her straight in the eye. “Tabitha Sue, how badly do you want to show the school that you’ve got moves?”

  “You have no idea,” said Tabitha Sue intensely.

  “All right,” said Matt. “We all want this bad, right?”

  “Yeah,” said the team in response.

  “That didn’t sound like you wanted it,” teased Ian.

  “YEAH!” we all shouted.

  “Louder!”

  “Yeah!”

  “All right!” said Matt and Ian at the same time.

  I looked around our huddle and saw smiles on everyone’s faces. Who knew? The football team psych-up worked. Jacqui and I think that maybe the reaction they got from their old teammates after they did their break-dance routine at the Sunshine Dance had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, I could get used to this new version of the Testosterone Twins. (Guess testosterone comes in handy sometimes!)

  The one other good thing is that Jared seems to have calmed down about Diane. He seems to be less focused on shooting laser-beam eyes at her and more focused on getting the routine right.

  It also helped that the Titans haven’t been in the gym at the same time as us lately because of all their games. Thank goodness for small miracles!

  I’m trying not to look at today as a setback, even though people’s spirits were down. If I focus on the positive—the pep talk from Ian and Matt, the improvement in Jared’s Diane-hating mission—then I guess things aren’t so bad. It is hard to feel completely upbeat, though, because I’m still REALLY ANGRY at Clementine.

  I FINALLY was able to talk to her for five seconds without having her ignore me.

  After practice, when the Titans were sauntering into the gym on their usual high horses, I spotted Clementine walking with Katie and made a beeline toward her. She must have realized she was cornered. In the middle of the ginormous gym, there were no hallways to disappear behind, and no classes to run off to.

  “Hey, Clementine,” I said.

  She looked at me as if I were a bug that had flown in front of her face—something she could shoo away. “Yeah? What do you want?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

  “I want to talk to you about the booth Lanie and I tried to propose for the fair.”

  She examined one of the friendship bracelets on her wrist, giving me the clear signal that she was B-O-R-E-D. “So? What ABOUT your booth?” she asked. Then she cocked her head at me like she was waiting for ME to explain to HER what happened. Or like she didn’t know already that we’d been mysteriously left off the list.

  I decided to hold the attitude and just state the facts. “Somehow our booth didn’t make the cut. I was wondering why.”

  Clementine let out a deep sigh. “I seriously do not have time to talk about this right now. You know we have another big baseball game coming up. Katie, shall we?” She held out her elbow for Katie to latch on to.

  Katie, meanwhile, had become conspicuously silent during Clementine’s and my exchange. I guess she felt awkward.

  “Clementine,” I said with a little more force than I meant to.

  She whipped her head around to look at me, a sly smile playing on her lips.

  “It shouldn’t take THAT long to explain,” I said. “I’m sure you have a whole long list of reasons. But can you just let me know what they are?”

  Katie started pretending to fix the timer on her watch.

  “Fine. Here’s the deal,” Clementine said. “The Titans have a killer booth this year. My mom, who as you probably already know is THE fashion advice guru for Channel 31, is going to be giving tips to the, um”—she paused to give me a quick once-over—“fashion deficient. People will come to our booth to get fashion advice, and a mini styling sesh.”

  “All right, so what does that have to do with Lanie’s and my booth idea?”

  Clementine rolled her eyes. “Everything. We can’t have two fashion-related booths at the fair, let alone two cheerleader-run booths. Didn’t you hear Principal Gershon say we needed a VARIETY of booths?”

  “Actually, no I didn’t.” I was pretty sure Clementine had made that little line up on the spot.

  “Well, pay attention next time,” she snapped. “So anyway, like, EVERYONE voted on our booth idea over yours. You were insanely outvoted. Plus, isn’t it obvs? Everyone knows my mom, and seriously, who do you think they’d rather get fashion advice from? A famous TV personality? Or, um . . .” Her eyes went down to my fairly beat-up New Balances as she snickered. “Well, YOU know.”

  Finally, Katie stepped in and said something. “Clem, don’t you think the booths sound different enough?” I could tell she was trying to sound all whatever about it, like she didn’t care either way but wanted to add her two cents. “One is fashion advice and the other is fashion DESIGN. Those are two separate things. Who cares if they have a fashion-related booth?”

  “It’s not up to just me,” Clementine snapped. “Like I said, there was a vote fair and square and the Titan booth won. Besides, what do YOU care?” she challenged. She didn’t even wait for Katie to say something back. “Madison, look. You win some and you lose some. And honestly, of all people, you should be familiar with the LOSING part, right?”

  Katie looked like she wanted to say something but was holding herself back. I could tell she wasn’t going to keep defending me, which was a bummer. I liked hearing her talk back to Clementine, especially in defense of moi. I was, after all, keeping this HUGE SECRET for her.

  Clementine must have realized something was off, because she was like, “Katie? You okay?”

  Katie blushed. “I—I’m fine,” she stammered. “Just worried about getting started on those rewinds we need to work on.”

  At that point I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere. Mom was already out of the locker room and punching away on her BlackBerry, waiting for me. I gave Clementine my meanest look and stomped away. A fair-and-square vote, she’d said? Yeah, right. Unless by “fair” Clem meant saying no to any idea I came up with. As they say, “All’s Fair in Clementine’s War.” Or maybe that’s not the saying, but still, it sounds about right.

  On the way home, I was practically boiling. I tried to find a radio station that could match the mood I was feeling. But there weren’t any songs about sending a cheerleader to jail for being so mean.

  “Hon, you all right?” asked Mom, casting a quick glance in my direction.

  I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes. “Yeah. Sort of. Just annoyed about some school politics stuff.”

  “Oh,” she said. “The fair, you mean?”

  “Yeah. Lanie and I had a great idea for a booth and it didn’t make it. Which I guess I’d be okay with if I didn’t have a feeling the reason we didn’t get it had something to do with Clementine.”


  “I see,” she said, chewing her lip. I had a feeling she was trying to come up with something positive and reassuring to say. Because Mom is a true cheerleader through and through. “I’m sure it will all work out.” She gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. “And you’ll have fun helping with the Dunk the Jock booth,” she said brightly.

  See?

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said. “It’s more than just that, though.” I wanted to say it is more the principle of it than being bummed that I wouldn’t get to have a booth with Lanes. Just how unfair it all was.

  “Well, if it will make you feel any better, I’m making meatball subs tonight,” she said.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Then an idea came to me. Clementine couldn’t be the be-all and end-all. I need to get a real answer and figure this thing out. Tomorrow I’m going to talk to all the other committee members and find out what REALLY happened. Wish me luck!

  Oops! Didn’t even write about the Grizzlies cheering for Bowling League on Thursday. The team luckily was in better spirits ever since our group huddle, so Jacqui and I got a break from the usual complaints that go along with cheering for the kind of teams that aren’t exactly spectator sports.

  I also think the Grizzlies can’t help but have a bit of sympathy for the members of the Bowling League. They fought SUPER hard to get recognized as a school sport, and it wasn’t until just two years ago that they were actually considered one. I can’t even count how many bake sales they had before that happened. But as much as I had the rah-rah-rah’s for them, I didn’t want to admit to the rest of the team that the Bowl-o-Rama used to be a sort of home away from home for me from back in the day when my parents took me there. (We were practically pros!)

  The last time I’d been bowling was when Bevan and I went. That seems like FOREVER ago. Luckily, Bevan and I seem cool with one another these days, so it is not awkward when we see each other around school or anything. Phew.

  Anyway, when we got to Bowl-o-Rama, there was this cuh-razy fight going on already between the Port Angeles Pin Pals and the Dry Creek Spare Me’s. A Port Angeles girl was accusing a Dry Creek girl of purposely dropping a bowling ball on her toe. “It was slippery!” the Dry Creek girl insisted. “I didn’t see you standing there.”