by Cari Simmons
We nodded, and Ms. Fairley left to check in with the other talent show performers.
“I think we all look great.” Roseann straightened her black headband and smoothed her hair. “Don’t you?”
“Totally,” Anna agreed. “Hands in?”
We reached our hands into the circle, the same way we’d done at field hockey.
“Wait a sec.” I cleared my throat and forced my voice to sound normal. “There’s something I need to tell all of you.”
I explained that I wasn’t going to the Olympics. I told them that I’d been flattered they thought I was that good, but I wasn’t, even though I desperately wished I was. I said I’d been terribly wrong not to correct them.
“I don’t get it,” Miranda said. “Why would you say that in the first place?”
Like her, they were all more confused than angry. Roseann watched me. Her face didn’t reveal her feelings.
“It’s hard to explain,” I said. I thought about telling them that, technically, I hadn’t been the one to say that I was going to the Olympics, but that hadn’t gone over well with Roseann last night.
“Is any of it true?” Grace asked.
“Any what?”
“Anything about you,” she said skeptically.
“Everything else is. Totally! I promise.”
“Onyx!” Ms. Fairley called, saving me. “Photo time.”
As we popped our hands up together, I felt them all glance sideways at me. Probably wondering if I was really from Arizona or if I really was a gymnast.
Bob, the photographer, lined us up. Grace, Fiona, Anna, and Roseann kneeling in front. Miranda and me standing behind them. We waited silently for our picture to be taken. I stared at the back of Roseann’s head. Would she let this pass? Would she ever laugh about it?
Her head didn’t give me any answers. My stomach tightened with dread. If only I could press a reset button and start again, I thought.
“Girls, everyone’s looking a bit stiff. Show me more natural smiles. How about on three we all say ‘cheese’?” Bob asked with an exaggerated grin.
“How about ‘meow’?” I joked back, needing to break the tension. “We look more like black cats than mice.”
“We’re not saying that,” Grace whispered up at me.
“Just trying to get everyone to smile,” I said.
“Meow?” Bob offered.
No one but me meowed back.
“Okay, no takers for ‘meow.’ How about ‘Onyx’ on three?” Bob didn’t wait for an answer this time. “One . . . two . . . three.”
“Onyx!” we all cried. I extended the X sound for a long time, giving my biggest smile. “We sound like snakes,” I quipped, suddenly nervous around these girls.
“Be serious,” Grace said to me. “Can we take another?” she asked Bob.
“Let’s try that again.” Bob raised his camera. “Give me a happy thought.”
Roseann whirled around. “Don’t be silly, Molly.”
“One . . . two . . .” Bob began the count.
“What’s wrong with being silly?” I asked.
“Let’s just take the photo,” Fiona said.
Several kids grouped behind Bob, watching us. Impulsively, I put two fingers up on both my hands and gave Anna and Grace bunny ears.
“Darling!” Bob called. “I see that. Hands down.”
“Seriously, Molly,” Grace muttered as the kids behind Bob giggled. “This photo is going on the wall.”
“Ready?” Bob said.
The girls all posed with one hand on their hips. I puffed out my cheeks and crossed my eyes. The kids facing us laughed loudly this time. I didn’t care that they were laughing at me. Laughter was better than the serious silence of the photo.
“Molly, stop it,” Roseann said tightly.
“Okay, okay,” I agreed. Suddenly I felt bad. I’d gotten carried away again. This wasn’t the way to win Roseann back. I vowed to smile sweetly from now on and do nothing else. “I’m done. Let’s do this.”
“One . . . two . . .” Bob started the count again. We all smiled and posed.
On three, a tiny girl in a dark green glittery leotard sailed into the picture.
“Photo bomb!” Shrimp cried, popping her smiling face in between me and Miranda.
I cracked up.
I laughed so hard that I started my weird hiccup thing. Shrimp grabbed my hands, and we tumbled to the floor. Then she started to hiccup too!
“Hysterical!” I choked out, still hiccupping. “I love photo bombs.”
“Onyx, they’re calling you onto the stage.” Ms. Fairley hurried over to us. “Now!”
I hiccupped loudly. Shrimp echoed me.
“You have to stop that,” Grace said.
I stood and hiccupped some more. “I can’t. No one will notice.”
“Yes, they will,” Roseann insisted. She and Grace shared a nervous glance.
“Okay.” I hiccupped again. “So they will. Who cares? We’re dancing and not singing, right?”
“Singing would be funny.” Shrimp hiccupped twice as loudly as I did, as she tried to sing “Happy Birthday.”
“I care,” Roseann said as the announcer called Onyx’s name again. The audience had quieted, waiting for us to appear. Roseann’s eyes darted nervously towards the stage. Then her gaze settled on me.
I took a deep breath and held it, willing away the hiccups. Once again, my silliness had upset Roseann. I didn’t want to keep upsetting her. I wished I could figure out the secret to making us click. Why was it so hard?
As another hiccup escaped, I clapped my hand over my mouth. “I can’t stop.”
“I don’t think you can go on with us,” Grace said.
I looked to Fiona. She nodded. Miranda and Anna examined the floor, not saying anything.
I should’ve found a way to get on that plane this morning, I thought. I hadn’t fixed anything with Roseann.
“That’s fine,” Shrimp said suddenly. “Molly changed groups.”
“I did?” I turned to her.
“Yes,” Shrimp announced, not bothering to hide her hiccups. “You’re with me.”
“Onyx!” Ms. Fairley said sternly. “Now or never?”
“Molly?” Roseann asked uncomfortably.
“Can you do the dance okay without me?” I hiccupped again.
“Yes,” Roseann said. “We can. But I don’t want you to be upset—”
“Then I’m with Shrimp.” I wrapped my arm around her tiny shoulder.
Roseann nodded.
“So you two are together?” Ms. Fairley asked, after Onyx ran onstage and the familiar beat of their music started up.
“We are.” Shrimp slung her arm over my shoulder.
“Bob, I need you to snap a photo of these two,” Ms. Fairley called.
Bob jumped in front of us, camera ready. “One . . . two . . .”
On three, I gave Shrimp bunny ears, and she gave them to me. We both puffed out our cheeks and crossed our eyes.
“How about a more serious one, girls?” Bob asked.
“Nah,” Shrimp said. “Unless you want?”
“Never,” I said. “Hey, our hiccups went away.”
Together, from the wings, we watched Onyx dance. I nodded along, silently cheering as Miranda remembered all the moves and didn’t knock into Grace. Roseann looked prettier than ever. Miranda had moved up, so they were all in one line. No one in the audience realized I was missing.
Or that I’d ever been part of their group at all.
“Thanks,” I said to Shrimp.
“For what?”
“For jumping in when I needed you.”
“Happy to help, sea kelp.”
Ms. Fairley tapped our shoulders. “Two acts, then you’re on, girls.”
“What are we doing out there?” I asked Shrimp. Suddenly the stage looked large and the audience even larger.
“Tumbling. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” She gazed at my black skirt, lipstick, and straight h
air. “You’re going to have to change, if we’re going to flip.”
Shrimp’s sparkly green leotard gave me an idea. “I have just the thing. Wait here!”
Racing to the far corner of backstage, I found my duffel bag tucked behind a trunk overflowing with sombreros, cowboy hats, jester caps, and other hats used for school shows. My weekend bag had been way too large to squeeze into my locker. I was already late when Mom dropped me off. Mrs. Murphy saw me struggling and told me to bring it to the talent show. Now I dug around inside.
Hiding behind a scuffed armoire and a screen with the silhouette of a city skyline painted on it, I pushed off my shoes and changed outfits. Then I pulled my hair into a ponytail. I ran back to Shrimp.
“That’s the way, blue jay!” she called when she saw my lavender leotard with the rhinestone sunburst design. I’d packed it to wear with Eden to Daria’s gym.
“Do you ever run out of those sayings?” I asked.
Shrimp shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to hang out with me to find out.”
“They’re setting up for you two now,” Ms. Fairley said as the curtain closed on Lyla playing a guitar and singing. Roseann and crew had left the stage earlier, to tons of applause. They stood together in the wings, watching Lyla. I caught Roseann’s eye and gave her a smile. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t upset.
Ms. Fairley placed her hand on my shoulder as four boys pulled mats onto the stage. She looked from Roseann to Shrimp to me. “Molly, is everything fine?”
I could see how she’d be confused.
“All good,” I said, “except I don’t know what I’m supposed to do out there. Shrimp, I don’t know the routine. I don’t know the steps.”
“There are no steps. Follow the music.” Shrimp grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “We’ll make it up together.”
“Girls, they’re about to announce you.” Ms. Fairley’s cell phone buzzed. She was using it to text with the guy doing the lighting and the announcing. “Wait! What’s your group name?”
“We’re the Olympic Tumblers,” Shrimp declared.
“What?” I cried.
“You wanted to be part of the Olympics, didn’t you?” Shrimp shot me a mischievous grin. “That’s how I heard it that day at the gym.”
“You heard?” I cringed. I thought I’d spied Shrimp’s purple bow.
“If Coach hadn’t dragged me away, I would’ve stood up for you. Sofia should chill out. I mean, obviously, it was a joke.”
“Well, it’s not exactly how it started. The truth is—”
“You can tell me later, if you want.” Shrimp nodded to the rising curtain. “Are you ready?”
“So the Olympic Tumblers? That’s who you are?” Ms. Fairley asked impatiently.
“That’s who we are,” I agreed.
The opening notes of the Two Hearts song blared out as the announcer called, “Give it up for the Olympic Tumblers!”
Shrimp looked at me. “Ready?”
“Ready, Freddy!” I cried.
“Good one.” Shrimp nodded, and together we ran out. We turned a roundoff and launched into two back handsprings, side by side. I don’t know how we both knew to do them, but we did.
We continued to tumble. Sometimes we did the same stunts at the same time. Sometimes she flipped and I danced, and then I flipped and she danced. The beat of the music guided my body. Shrimp seemed to hear the music the same way I did. We moved together. We used moves we’d made up on her trampoline. High-flying split jumps. Full-body shimmies. Even that cool dance move she’d showed me through the fence.
A bunch of times, one of us would do a crazy shake or a ridiculous twist that would crack the other up. From different sides of the stage, we handspringed towards the middle. When our feet touched, we pretended to bump. We tumbled to the ground, clownlike. The audience laughed with us.
What an amazing sound!
Soon I forgot the entire sixth grade was watching. With the bright lights and the thumping music, I was mostly aware of Shrimp by my side. That wonderful sensation of flying through the air was back. I hadn’t felt this free and easy since moving here. The minutes zoomed by, and when the song ended, I slid into a split and raised my arms. Shrimp did the same.
I want to do this again! I thought. Could we convince Ms. Fairley to have them replay our music? We’d make up a completely different, but equally fabulous, routine.
I was so into my own happy thoughts that I didn’t register the noise at first. Slowly, though, the audience’s clapping and cheering soaked in. The noise grew deafening.
I squinted into the lights, unsure I was seeing right. I turned to Shrimp.
“Standing O!” she mouthed to me, raising her arms into a circle above her head.
I gasped. They were giving us a standing ovation. Shrimp and I were a hit!
CHAPTER 16
I leaned against the planter outside the front doors to the school. All the buses had left, the walkers had scattered, and the car line had dwindled to one or two late parents. Alex still wasn’t here. He’d texted that he had to talk to someone at his school, so I’d have to wait. Must be a teacher thing, I figured.
Now I was the last kid at school on a Friday afternoon.
I bent down, unzipped my bulging duffel bag, and pulled out a sweatshirt with a cool camouflage print. The sky was heavy with gray clouds, and a chill weighed down the late September sky. I shivered in my black tank. I’d had no choice but to put the Onyx outfit back on after the talent show. I couldn’t walk around school in a leotard.
Everything had changed after Shrimp and I exited the stage. All day, kids came up and congratulated me. The weird thing was that Shrimp and I hadn’t even won. A girl who played the piano and sang a song from Wicked won. But Shrimp and I were clearly the audience favorite.
“You looked like you were having so much fun up there,” Morgan, my partner in my math class, said wistfully.
“I was,” I confided. “Lots of fun.”
“We should hang out sometime after school,” she suggested. “If that’s okay.”
“That’s great!” I told her. I liked Morgan. She always had the coolest designs on her nails. She drew the flowers and snowflakes herself with special polish. She promised to do them on mine.
Morgan wasn’t the only one who’d noticed me. I had met more kids today than in the past couple weeks. I felt, in a strange way, as if today was my first day.
I didn’t see Roseann or Shrimp for the rest of the day. During lunch, I didn’t go to the cafeteria, and I realized I was missing out on Sweets Friday. I’d forgotten to bring a treat anyway.
Instead, I found Mrs. Murphy eating a tuna sandwich in her classroom. I sat across from her and told her that I wasn’t going to the Olympics. I apologized and tried to explain the best I could. She was really understanding. She encouraged me to stay on the newspaper staff and even shared her potato chips. I showed her how to crumble them and put them inside her tuna sandwich. The crunchiness balanced the mushiness of the tuna. She agreed. She was going to see if her little son liked it when she got home.
I heard footsteps on the walkway behind me.
“Have a good weekend, Molly,” Ms. Fairley said as she left the school with Miss Plaza, my science teacher. They both waved.
“Thanks! You too!” I called. The teachers now knew me here.
I pulled on my sweatshirt and zipped my duffel. Packing seemed like a lifetime ago. I watched as a girl about my age climbed out of the backseat of a blue car that had pulled into the parking lot a few minutes earlier. A man and a woman exited the front seat. I guessed they were her parents. She gazed around with a bewildered look.
Instantly, I recognized the look. I’d had that look too. She was new.
The front door pushed open behind me, and Mr. Sabino emerged.
“Hello, Molly,” he said. “Is someone coming for you?”
“Yes, my brother’s on his way.”
“Excellent. Good job up there today with Sheila.”
&n
bsp; “Excuse me?” Maybe the principal didn’t know who I was after all. “I did the talent show with Shrimp.”
“That’s right. Sheila O’Shea does go by Shrimp. Cute nickname for her.” He chortled. “She doesn’t much look like a Sheila, does she?”
Could Shrimp be the Sheila whose mom my mom had met in the bathroom at work? The girl my mom had been trying to set me up with all along? Was that even possible?
“Enjoy your weekend.” He turned his attention to the new family. “Welcome to Hillsbury Middle School. I’m the principal, Mark Sabino.” He thrust out his hand to shake with the parents.
The girl’s eyes clouded with nervousness. I smiled at her. She smiled tightly back. I wished I could tell her not to worry. I would, I decided. I’d go right up to her on her first day.
The way Shrimp had welcomed me.
Mr. Sabino moved the group closer to the door. I edged my way to the other side of the planter and searched the long driveway for Alex’s car. No brother in sight.
“And this is Roseann Bleeker,” Mr. Sabino said. “Roseann is one of our special student ambassadors.”
Roseann appeared at his side. Her green star pin gleamed from the pink crew neck sweater she’d pulled over her black tank. The preppy pink sweater made the outfit so much more Roseannlike.
“Hi, I’m Roseann.” Her voice was bright and perky.
“I’m Avani,” the girl said quietly.
I felt Avani drawn to Roseann’s warm smile. She couldn’t help herself. Roseann had the sparkle. I listened in fascination as Mr. Sabino gave Avani and her parents the same speech he’d given me and Mom weeks earlier.
“Why don’t we come inside and go over Avani’s schedule?” he suggested. The parents followed him into the school. Avani lingered a moment alongside Roseann.
“You were really good out there,” Roseann said suddenly. She looked directly at me. Her blue eyes showed no anger.
“Thanks.” I hesitated. “You guys were too. The dance really came together. And you looked so pretty.”
“Thanks.” She also hesitated.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to keep hiccupping.” I fiddled with my silver ring.