by Zoe Evans
Afterward we wandered through the flea market that Bevan told me about. There were so many cool crafts, jewelry, and clothes. Score! Presents for everyone!! I found this bracelet that Lanie would die for because they’re made of leather and have charms hanging from them that are all “dark” kind of things. Skulls, and snakes, and stuff like that. (At least the Lanie I USED to know will love it. . . .)
And I found a dress that would be great for the spring. Beth and Dad hung around the antique furniture, trying to decide on a side table for their living room. Bor-ing. I found a food stand that sold DELISH hot chocolate, so I took a pic and posted it on Evan’s Facebook wall.
“The holiday hot chocolate tradition continues!” I wrote.
I hope he’ll think it’s funny (and write back to me soon).
Then I texted Lanes to tell her about her prezzie.
“Just found the perf thing-U R so going to heart it. That is if Dustin hasn’t turned you.”
“Ha-ha. Thnx! Ur the bestest.”
“Oh, stop,” I wrote.
“So guess what? One more day till I C my luvvvv!”
“Lanes! Remember, he’s just a celeb. He has to be sweet to all his fans.”
“U never kno,” wrote Lanie. “When he meets me, he mite fall in luv. Do u doubt my charms?”
“No, no doubt here. Keep hope alive!”
I put my phone in my pocket and took a deep breath. Lanie’s gone off the deep end with this Dustin thing. I bet if I looked into her eyes right now I’d see those pinwheels that they show in cartoons when a character goes nutso. At least it’s only one more day until she meets him face-to-face. I can only hope that then she’ll realize he’s not even that cute in person or something. Or maybe he’ll have a booger in his nose while he’s signing her book.
Please, please, please let something happen to snap her back to normal. Then her room can go back to the way it used to be with posters of weird art and intellectual quotes on her wall and all her old books everywhere.
For dinner we went to an Ethiopian restaurant nearby. I was not so thrilled with the idea at first. I even considered running out of the hotel to grab a hot dog on the street so that I wouldn’t have to eat the Ethiopian food. But it actually wasn’t as weird as I thought. I’d never had that kind of food before, but since I’m on vacation, I thought, I might as well be adventurous. Even though that didn’t really work out the last time I went to a restaurant with Beth and Dad (the time I like to call “the Great Foie Gras Disaster”).
The waiter led us to a table, and to my surprise, we were seated right on the floor. That’s right. As in no chairs to sit on. It kind of felt like we were at one of those theme restaurants in Disneyland where everything is supposed to be “authentic.” Beth ordered a bunch of dishes whose names gave no hint as to what might be inside them.
“Aren’t you excited, Mads?” asked Dad. “You’ve never eaten Ethiopian before.”
“Oh, have you?” I asked.
Dad looked a little sheepish. “No, but I’m very much looking forward to it,” he said with as much enthusiasm as possible.
When the food came, Beth showed us how to tear small pieces off the large piece of bread that had been placed in the center of the table and scoop things up with them. Everything was MUCHO spicy, but the bread and rice helped. I even got to eat with my hands without Dad making some kind of comment about my manners. The restaurant didn’t even give us forks, since the real way to eat the food is to scoop it up onto your bread. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine a scenario where eating food with silverware would be considered rude. Cool, huh?
The thing is, Dad usually makes annoying comments when Beth’s around. But he’s actually been really fun so far-maybe it’s the New York air? Maybe it’s because Beth has been in the best mood ever?
Either way? I like this less picky version of Dad. I only hope it lasts.
OMG, drama is SOOOO needy. It’s like having my little sister’s totally annoying, dorky best friend following me ALL over the place ALL the time!! I mean, if I had a little sister, which I don’t. Still, the point is I can’t believe drama needed to follow me all the way to New York City. I’ve been here, like, all of five minutes.
Ok, here’s the deal. This morning we were all ready to leave for the day when Beth decided she needed her CASHMERE gloves instead of her WOOL ones.
“I won’t be a minute,” she said, as she bounded up the stairs back to their room.
I plopped down on the hotel couch, ready to kill some time with Dad. But then I saw that Beth was looking back down at us, as if she wanted Dad to follow her.
“Well,” he sighed. “I guess I should go up too. The ol’ ball and chain must need something from me.”
Ooookay, weird. I can be in a hotel room all by myself, but Beth can’t go up to hers alone to get a pair of gloves?
Whatever. So I was sitting there, scrolling through my messages, when someone walked past me, leaving behind a cloud of perfume that smelled unmistakably familiar. It was the almost sickly sweet smell of coconut and strawberries that I only know one person to wear: the one, the only, Katie Parker. At first I was like, “Wow, Mads, someone has cheer withdrawal.” But when I looked up, I could not believe my eyes. The girl who left the trail of Eau de Katie looked EXACTLY like Katie Parker from behind: Blond hair in the signature Katie high ponytail-the one she always wears during cheer practice. The same plaid winter jacket Katie’s been sporting since it got cold. (Yeah, I know I sound like a stalker, but it’s totally my job to keep tabs on the Titans-especially their captain.) I ran after the girl to get a better look, but the bellboy blocked my way when I got to the door. Didn’t he know I was in super sleuth mode? I scrambled around him and burst through the door, but I was too late. She had disappeared around the corner by then.
What was taking Dad and Beth so long? I wanted to get out there and find her so I could make sure it wasn’t Katie. But Dad has a thing against me walking around by myself, and he would have totally freaked out if he came downstairs to find me out and about on my own. So instead I sat back down in the couch and fidgeted, too hyper to read a magazine from the coffee table.
As I sat there, I thought about how there was no way Katie Parker could be in New York too. She of all people wouldn’t miss winter break cheer practice-or ANY practice, for that matter. In fact, I don’t think she even missed practice when she had the awful stomach bug that was going around a few weeks ago-that’s what I call devotion. Also, what would the chances be of her being not only here in New York, but also in this very same hotel? The cheer gods couldn’t be THAT mean.
I texted Jacqs to tell her the funny story.
“Get this: A Katie P. twin has followed me allll the way to NYC. I swear, this girl looks exactly like her, and she is in MY hotel. Random, rite?”
My phone rang two seconds later. I looked down: It was Jacqui.
“Got your message,” Jacqui said over the noise of cars honking and people yelling. She must be either at the mall parking lot, I thought, or in the middle of the highway.
“How crazy is that?” I said.
“Maybe not so crazy,” she said. “I have to go in a sec, but I wanted to tell you that Katie actually wasn’t at practice yesterday.”
“Ohmigod, seriously?” I asked. This had to be some kind of crazy coincidence.
“I thought she was sick or something, but then I asked Hilary, and she said Katie went on a last-minute trip to her grandparents’ house in Wisconsin.”
“You’re joking,” I said.
“Nope. And the Titans were kind of annoyed, but Katie told them she didn’t have a choice.”
“So weird,” I said. “Do you really think it’s her? Seriously, why would she even be in New York City?”
“I don’t know,” said Jacqui. “Do you really think she’d lie to her team? That’s pretty shady.”
“Mads?” My dad was shouting to me from the top of the stairs because he couldn’t see me from his view on the landin
g. “You still down there?”
I put my hand over the speaker to shout back at him. “Yes, just on the phone!”
“Ok, Jacqs, I gotta go too. I’ll keep you posted.”
As soon as I hung up the phone, it hit me: What if this “twin” actually IS Katie Parker?
AFTERNOON, FOXWOODS THEATRE
This afternoon we walked to Times Square to see if we could nab some cheap tix to a Broadway show. I was down for seeing almost anything-just to be able to say I went to one. And of course, if I didn’t, Jared would strangle me. I was secretly hoping we’d get to see Wicked, since Jared has made us all listen to the sound track a million times. He’s completely obsessed with Kristin Chenoweth-and loves singing her solos when we’re doing laps around the gym. It’s become kind of an anthem for our practices.
Anyway, we were walking down Broadway, and I saw that familiar blond head again. It was the Katie Twin, walking with some woman (her mom, maybe?). I mean, I saw her from far away, but the more I looked at the back of her head, the more I realized that not only did she have the same hairstyle as Katie, her head was even the same shape as Katie’s (yes, I know the shape of Katie’s head. It’s sad but not really important now. . . .). I started picking up my pace so we could catch up with her.
“Maddy, what’s the rush?” asked Dad, jogging up to me.
“Oh, nothing, Dad,” I said, picking up my walk/sprint even more. “Just decided that I uh, need a little exercise after being cooped up in that tiny hotel room.”
We must have looked pretty funny dressed in full winter gear, speed walking down Broadway. Just when I caught up with the Twin, I slowed down a bit. If it wasn’t her, I didn’t want it to be completely obvious that I was checking her out like a weirdo. And if it was her, well, what would I say, exactly? To my relief, I finally saw that the girl was wearing a very un-Katie outfit: leg warmers and extra-baggy sweatpants, from what I could see. Kind of like a dancer.
I finally slowed down and caught my breath. Katie would never be caught dead wearing something like that. She’s all cheer all the time. Even when she’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, it’s always tight jeans and a tight T-shirt. I’ve never seen her wear sweatpants-even during practice. “There’s no way that’s Katie,” I said out loud without meaning to.
“Who, honey?” asked Dad.
“Oh, nothing. I just saw a girl who looked like Marcia Brady.”
Dad and Beth exchanged a look like “kids these days.”
“All right, sweetie,” said Dad.
We kept walking, and all I could think was wow, I really hope that isn’t actually Katie Parker. I mean, she and I have been ok with each other since our showdown at the Regional Qualifier, but there’s still some tension there. And I didn’t exactly NEED her staying in my hotel-during my VACATION. Can’t a girl get a break?
So the Katie Twin and the woman next to her started slowing down their pace and pulled out a map. The woman pointed to a huge building nearby, and the Katie Twin was definitely yelling at her. I picked up my collar so they wouldn’t see us walking right past them, but I decided to sneak one more good look to make extra sure. And that’s when I was thrown into Obviousville, Population 2.
There was no mistaking it. This was no twin. It was the Real Katie.
I must have looked like I’d seen a ghost, because Dad was like, “Are you ok?”
“Oh, just great!” I said. “Just, um . . . saw someone I know, that’s all.”
“What a small world! You want to go say hi?” said Dad. Beth nodded encouragingly. “We’ll wait.”
I literally grabbed his arm and pulled us all away from the scene of the crime. “Oh, no, it’s cool! You know, I really could use a bathroom. Can we hurry up?”
I needed us to walk as far away as possible from Katie Parker. I didn’t want her to see me just yet.
Obviously she lied about Wisconsin. How is she going to explain that? And what is she doing dressed in dancer’s clothes? I can’t put the pieces together. I need to think about things before running up to her and being like, “Hey, you!”
We ended up getting last-minute tickets to Spider-Man on Broadway. And the seats are pretty good! It’s intermission right now, and the show so far has been absolutely insane! I’m glad it’s taken my mind off the Katie thing a little bit. OH, and the actor playing Spidey is kind of dreamy. The acrobatics are so cool-the actors are literally flying over our heads. I’m wondering now, how I could incorporate Spider-Man-like moves into one of our routines.
You never know where inspiration will strike, huh?
LATER TONIGHT, IN THE ROOM O’ DOOM (JUST KIDDING)
So, this afternoon while Beth and Dad were napping in their room, I went on video chat to say hi to whoever was online. I’m actually really starting to dig this little room o’ mine. It’s so cozy when it’s dark out, and the glow of my monitor is reflected in the floor-to-ceiling window. I was hoping to have a chance to tell Lanie what had happened earlier today. Luckily, she was online. And guess what? She actually gave me an entire TWO MINUTES to talk about something that was NOT Dustin related. Imagine . I’m pretty proud of her, considering how obsessed she’s been with him lately. Unfortunately, when I saw her room in the background of the screen, I didn’t notice anything different. It still looks like a Dustin Barker extravaganza in there. I told Lanie about my Katie sightings and how now I am absolutely sure that it’s her, and not a Bizarro Katie look-alike. At first Lanie was like, “You sure you’re not making this up to distract me from the Dustin thing?”
“No, Lanes. I actually do have other things going on separate from worrying about your love life.”
“I know, I know,” Lanie said, taking a small section of her hair and making it into a tiny braid. “But your story is so crazy I could have sworn you made it up.”
“Yeah, it is crazy. And unfortunately, it’s 100% true.”
“Gee, Mads, I’m sorry. This week was supposed to be a vacation. Not Part III in the Katie Parker Saga,” she said, putting both hands over her heart. “So . . . are you going to talk to her?”
“Ha!” I said. “More like hide from her. The last time the two of us had a conversation, it was about the whole me and Bevan thing. I know she doesn’t completely hate me anymore, but I’m sure I’m not her first choice in vacation buddies-and she’s obviously not mine.”
Lanie nodded her head in agreement, and I could see her brows furrow the way they do when she’s worried about me. When it comes to any of the Titans, Lanie keeps a safe distance. They really freaked out last month when she did that article for the Daily Angeles-the one about cheerleaders getting more funding from the school than other teams. And even though the article ended up saying tons of great things about the Titans-like how they kick so much butt that they deserve all the moola they get-some Titans were still miffed. Some of the girls felt like Lanie had given out some of the insider secrets she learned from all her interviews with them. I know that she didn’t say anything wrong, but you can’t win with those girls.
“Maybe you should get a wig so she won’t recognize you,” Lanie suggested.
“Or maybe I can just hide in my hotel room until the week is over.”
“Ok, good luck with that,” said Lanie.
After I said good-bye to Lanes, I went onto chat to say a quick hello to Evan, but SURPRISE, SURPRISE, he didn’t write back. He’s usually online all hours at night-it even said he was “active” on the chat screen. I figure (or hope) he just left his desk for a second-but still. Annoying! He could have written to ME, right? The entire time I’ve been here he hasn’t sent me a single text or e-mail-not even a post on my Facebook wall, even though I posted something funny on his yesterday. I remember when we used to chat and text a million times a day. It’s like he’s giving me the silent treatment for having left Port Angeles for a week. But not contacting me just because I can’t participate in our usual winter break tradition this year is sooooo immature. And Evan’s not really like that-not usually. Grrrr. What
IS his problem?
Anyway, Jacqui WAS online, and I was dying to tell her about the Real Katie sighting. But I could tell as soon as she came onto the video screen that something was up. She had that “look.”
“So you won’t believe this,” said Jacqui.
“Dish,” I said, settling into the desk chair. I always like a good piece of gossip.
“It’s not good,” she said, shaking her head.
Oh, boy.
“So, right before practice, Ms. Burger gave me some random piece of paper to give to Coach Carolyn because she had to leave before Coach got there. And I knew I wasn’t supposed to peek, but . . .” Jacqui started playing with her curls the way she usually does when she’s anxious.
“But?” I asked, dying with anticipation.
“I couldn’t help it. I peeked! And I saw what it said on it,” Jacqui said, blushing a little. “I was worried, you know? The paper looked all ‘official.’”
I was beginning to lose my patience. “Just spill the beans, Jacqs.”
Turns out it was a note from the headquarters of the Get Up and Cheer board. The board in charge of the competition we’ve been training so hardcore for-our only reason for cheering at this moment in time. Yup, that one. Everyone on the squad is looking forward to it-it’s practically all we talk about in the locker rooms lately. Unfortunately, this little note was NOT a love note telling us how awesome and amazing the Grizzlies are. Nope. Whoever runs the competition wrote to Ms. Burger and Mom to tell them that our squad is going to be rejected from the competition because of our GRADES. Um, yeah. Major freak-out straight ahead.
“What are you talking about? I thought everyone has a B or above average,” I said. Then I thought about Ian and Matt, and how they’ve been known to skip a class or two. But not lately-they’ve definitely been upping the ante since becoming more serious about cheer. “Even Ian and Matt have been keeping their grades up.”