by Zoe Evans
“Actually, yeah. This top.” I showed him the tank, which I had ripped up from a long T-shirt and sewed together with lace and safety pins.
Someone leaned in behind me and whispered, “Shhhhh! Keep it down in front, please. SHEESH!”
We looked at each other and laughed.
Afterward, we all went to this famous pizza parlor and got a huge table. I looked to my right, and there was Luc, holding a menu open. How’d that happen? I looked across the table, and Katie gave me a wink. Like she was saying, “Ahh, so what’s going on with you two?” (Which, PS, is totally weird because she OBVI knows about me and Bevan.)
“No!” I mouthed to her silently. For, like, three seconds I wondered if she just wanted to make me think she was ok with me flirting with Luc, but the second we got back home she was going to spill the beans to Bevan. But she wouldn’t do that . . . right? Not after she confided in me about dance and all. I mean, I have dirt on her. I’m safe. Aren’t I?? Anyway, I quickly realized I shouldn’t be flirting with Luc. I like Bevan. Period.
Still, we ended up having such a blast together. It was weird how easy it was to talk to him and make him laugh. And I don’t know why, but he made me feel more comfortable around all of Katie’s friends. Like I wasn’t some outsider.
“Hey, you guys,” Luc said, addressing the table once everyone got their pizzas. “Maddy here is a fashion designer.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “I make some of my own clothes. But I’m not, like, serious or anything.”
“She made the top she’s wearing right now,” he said, biting into a slice.
“Wow, that’s so rad,” said Cynthia. “I make jewelry.”
Rad? That’s SO the kind of word an artsy, independent city kid would use. It’s like their DNA is just cooler. Sigh.
“Really?” I said. “Cool.”
Cynthia leaned over the table so she could show me her bracelets. “I take a metalworking class downtown and make them from scratch.”
That’s when I realized it was the first time I was actually happy to not be thought of as a cheerleader. To this crowd, I was an artist-like them. And I REALLY liked the feeling of being part of the group, of having some talent to contribute, you know? The more time I spent with them, the more I realized the dilemma Katie is going through. From the second you get involved in the cheerleading thing it becomes your life. And a big part of me loves that . . . but it was also really nice to be seen as, well, something other than a cheerleader. But it’s hard to do that at home. I get so swept up in the Grizzlies, just like Katie gets swept up in the Titans, and it’s like people in cheer expect us to be all about cheer all the time-and nothing else. Like we’re not allowed to have other interests. Double sigh.
Anyway, after dinner, we all walked over to Penelope’s apartment. Which was the only truthful part of tonight’s plan that Katie had told her mom about. Except, of course, that Penelope’s parents weren’t home. “Yeah, my mom would definitely not have been cool with this,” whispered Katie, as we walked to Penelope’s.
Oh, by the way? Her apartment was AMAZING. It was in a super-old building and had multiple “wings.” Penelope warned us not to go past the big hallway that separated her room, the TV room, and the kitchen from the rest of the apartment.
“My parents have, like, this sixth sense when it comes to me having my friends over,” she explained. “They’re so freaked out about people ruining their furniture, they make Esme clean everything from top to bottom every time, like, one person comes to visit.”
(PS-Esme is their live-in maid. Guess these kids were more like private school kids than Katie thought.)
We hung out in Penelope’s room for a bit, and then watched a movie. Halfway through, I left to go to the bathroom (just one of the eight-yup, EIGHT-bathrooms in the apartment), and when I came out, Luc was leaning against the wall in the hallway, checking his messages.
“Bad reception in there,” he said, motioning to his phone and then to the den. “So, you like the movie so far?”
“It’s ok.” I shrugged. “Not so into subtitles.”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Me neither.”
I’m pretty glad I wasn’t the only one. “Hard to read in the dark,” I added.
“Good point.”
We ended up hanging in the kitchen and just talking about everything: our favorite music, some of the art I’ve seen this week, and even fashion. I could never imagine talking about this stuff with Bevan. It just isn’t really his style. I mean, Bevan is funny and sweet and all, but our conversations usually center around school, cheer, soccer, and friends. We don’t really talk about books or movies or stuff like that. That is definitely more like Evan’s and my convos.
Penelope came into the kitchen to make some popcorn for everyone. Luc picked up the comic book that was lying on the counter next to some magazines.
“Be careful with that,” said Penelope. “My brother will massacre you if you bend the pages.” She rolled her eyes.
Ha-ha. Her bro sounded so much like someone else I know. . . .
Luc smiled. “Don’t worry. Me and comic books have a thing for one another,” he joked. “I’ll be gentle.” As I watched him flip through the pages, it hit me: Not only did Luc seem to be the total opposite of Bevan, but also he REALLY reminded me of Evan. If Evan, um, wore combat boots and had a crazy half-weird, half-cool haircut.
But I must have been imagining things. Because if Evan and Luc were as similar as I was thinking they were, and I was kind of crushing on Luc, that would mean . . . uh-uh. No way!! That would mean that . . . I could actually fall for a guy like Evan? Like there’s something I’m looking for in a guy that Evan has and Bevan doesn’t. Which is RIDICULOUS! Besides, this is nuts. It’s vacation. I shouldn’t be thinking so hard or looking into things so much. Evan is my friend. Luc is just some cute guy I met. And Bevan is the guy I LIKE. Right? (One last thing, though: suspicious that the name Bevan is just Evan with a B??? Why has this never occurred to me before?? Boy, I must be crazy. Seriously loco.)
But back to the night in question . . . So, Luc and I lost track of time, chatting away in the kitchen until I happened to glance at the huge grandfather clock in Penelope’s hallway.
“Ohmigod! Is it really this late?” I asked. I ran to the den, where Katie had fallen asleep during the movie with popcorn all over her lap. I bent down to nudge her awake. “Katie, my dad is going to flip out!”
Katie looked startled, like she didn’t know where she was. Then she looked at her watch. “Oh, no. I told my mom I’d call her from the hotel at ten-and she has caller ID. We need to get back, Madison.”
Luc seemed a little sad that I was going. “You’re a cool chick, Madison. I wish we could have hung out longer,” he said, leaning casually against the door to the apartment as I put my shoes on. “I’ll e-mail you.”
Sweet! The little butterflies in my tummy were fluttering a mile a minute. I know I wasn’t really supposed to be interested, or whatever, but it’s nice to be liked, right?? Who doesn’t like that!? I wanted to be all chill and relaxed, and be like, “Sure, whatever.”
Instead I just stammered, “I uh . . . Cool. Ok!” Typical Maddy.
The thing is, I do kind of wish we had more time together. But liking multiple guys is so NOT a Maddy thing to do. (And T.G. Katie hadn’t been there at that moment to overhear what he said. I know we’re supposedly friends now, but I’m still playing it safe. At least for now.)
On our super-hurried walk back, the conversation did a total 180. Katie was going on and on about getting into the academy. “Of course, if I get in, I’ll need to replace myself as Titan captain.”
I didn’t know a single cheerleader who was good enough to replace Katie as captain. (Except for maybe Jacqui, but there isn’t a chance of that happening.)
But then she said something completely ridiculous. “I could train you to replace me.” I stopped dead in my tracks, and my mouth fell open in this look of complete and utter shock-like I was witnessi
ng zombies pop out of fresh graves.
Finally, I choked out the words, “Excuse me?” Then I literally looked behind me, because the next thought that occurred to me was that someone like Hilary or Clementine had just magically appeared.
“I know, I know. It will take tons of work-believe me-but I’ve seen you. You’re better than you know. If someone pushed you to train even harder than you do now-like really pushed you, you totally could be Titan captain material. It’s just, you’re spending so much of your energy on your team right now, you don’t have enough time to focus on yourself, to push yourself to the next level. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a good captain and you’re doing what a good captain does: putting the team first. But if you could just focus on improving your own skills, you could really kill out there.”
My brain turned to mush for a second while it processed this. I mean, this talk was completely astronomical. First of all, Katie sort of gave ME the chance to be a TITAN. (Uh, hello, Madison Hays? This is your lifelong dream calling!) And second, she said she wants to train me to be a CAPTAIN on top of that? Is there some little Cheerleading Fairy Godmother who’s suddenly decided to show up and make my life absolutely perfect?
I kept waiting for Katie to just burst out into hysterical laughter and be like, “Just kidding!” But she didn’t. She was serious. She IS serious.
“But what about the other girls on your squad?” I asked. “I’m sure you have lots of captain wannabes.”
Katie slowed down as we approached the hotel. “Yeah, there are girls who are good, but I don’t think anyone on the team really has what it takes to lead the pack. You know? Like, they can cheer really well-but captain material? No one makes the cut.”
“So what, you can just nominate me, and that’s it?” I asked incredulously.
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s a vote. But,” she said, with a smug smile, “the team always ends up following the captain’s lead. If I vote for you, they will too.”
“Must be nice, having a team that actually listens to you,” I mumbled under my breath, but she didn’t acknowledge having heard me.
Her teeth looked so white; they practically glowed in the dark as we stood across from each other under the streetlights. “I mean, you’ll have to make the team first, but there’s another round of tryouts in the spring. If you train with me, I can get you ready.”
I tried to absorb all this, but it’s a lot to take in! Finally we came up to the steps of the hotel. The old-fashioned lamps over the main entrance cast an eerie glow over Katie.
“But remember what I told you earlier,” she said, all traces of a smile gone from her face. “If you become a Titan, you can’t even think about doing anything else in your life. The Titans become your life.”
I feel like the Grizzlies have ALREADY taken over my life. I can’t even imagine how it is with the Titans. But we’ve all heard the stories. . . . That must be a big part of why Katie wants to leave cheerleading. She must be fed up with the Titans being the be-all and end-all.
“Wait-so this is why you want to come to New York, right? To get away from all of it?” I asked.
“Partly,” she said. “But it’s also that I need to prove to myself that I am not just one thing. I love cheer, but it is not the only thing I love. And no one sees me as anything but a cheerleader.”
It was almost like she had been reading my mind. That was exactly how I was feeling all night long. And I guess it isn’t just Katie and me-there’s Diane Huerta, too. She loves to dance and do gymnastics, but because she’s in drama club, everyone thinks she’s just a drama geek. Why do we create these tiny little boxes that we can’t escape from? And what’s worse, why do we let people put us in them in the first place??
When we were inside the hotel library, Katie called her mom from the hotel phone to tell her we were back and safe. Then she insisted on teaching me some Titan moves. “Just in case you need a reminder about why the Titans are the best,” she said confidently. “Also, for some reason, cheering always helps with my pre-performance jitters. And tomorrow’s the modern dance audition.”
I was psyched. I hadn’t done anything cheer related all week except some stretches in my room. Luckily, the couches were still up against the wall where they had been placed for the hotel party earlier. The library suddenly turned into a perfect practice space for us! We couldn’t do anything too, too crazy, but Katie showed me her standing back tuck-which is a killer move that I’m still working on-and she gave me some pointers. It’s super tough because you have to be able to do a backflip from a standing position, which means zero momentum helping you get around.
I had just nearly landed it when Dad burst into the room. And he didn’t look happy.
“Madison Jane Hays,” he said, in a measured but serious tone. “I need to talk to you right now. In private.”
Katie made a face like, “Yikes. I’m glad I’m not you right now.”
I waved good-bye to her and followed Dad to my room. I didn’t need an audience in front of me while Daddy-O ripped me apart.
As soon as he shut the door to my room behind him, he asked, “Do you want to know who I ran into just now?”
“Um . . .” I stalled, bending down to take my boots off.
“Katie’s mother. And she told me that she was just at a party-without Katie. Without you. So,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “if you weren’t with Mrs. Parker, where in the world were you?”
The first thought in my head was whether Dad had blabbed to Katie’s mom about our lie. “Did you tell on Katie?” I asked.
He shook his head no. Props to Dad. “But believe me, her mom is good and angry.”
I fessed up and told him about the whole night.
“What were you thinking, going out by yourself? And lying to me about it?” he demanded, when I was done telling him what happened.
All of my anger and pent-up frustration about my dad moving away to NYC came out suddenly in one big angry rush.
“Dad, I’m not a little girl. Please stop treating me like one! It’s not like you’re Mr. Perfect. You’re, like, never around when we’re at home. You take me out to dinner, like, once a month, and then get annoyed that I’m not posh enough for the places you take me. When you call me on the phone, all you do is try to convince me to quit cheer. And then you take me on vacation and start acting like you’re this responsible dad all of a sudden. Tell me honestly, how long have you been keeping this move a secret from me?”
“Madison, I-”
“No, seriously. Did you really think I’d buy this as a last-minute offer, the way I bought this last-minute vacation? I’m not about to fall for the same trick twice.”
“Madison, it’s not like that. Ok, yes, I’ve known for a little while, but it wasn’t like I wanted to keep it from you. I . . . we-”
“I hope you enjoy New York City, because don’t even think I’ll visit you here, let alone live with you.”
Ok, so that was not true-but I was super mad!
Dad was silent for a few moments. I noticed for the first time tonight that he looked tired. I guess worrying about the whereabouts of your only child does that to you.
“Madison, we didn’t want to tell you about the move until you’d had a chance to see the city a little.” He looked down at his feet. “But you’re right. We should have told you earlier, and we never should have sprung this trip on you as just a regular vacation.” He sighed. “That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry we put this on you all at once. And I realize that I’m not always around at home when you need me, but the best I can say is, I’m trying to improve that. That’s why I asked you about living with us.”
He apologized! My dad! Totally didn’t expect that. Not that I’m doubting myself or anything. I am totally right. But still, it was really nice to hear. “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just going to take some getting used to. Maybe we can just call us even now?”
Dad laughed. “Sure, Madison.” He held out his hand so we could shake on it.
“Only if you promise never to lie to me again.”
“Deal.” And I meant it.
“In that case, we’re even.”
After he left, I picked up some of the brochures he’d left me before. One brochure showed a montage of students dancing, sketching, and acting in a play. A total artsy school. I never really penned myself for “one of those kinds of kids.” But I guess I kind of am, if I really think about it. Ha! I’m more like Lanie than I ever thought.
I’m actually starting to imagine what it would be like to go to school here in the city. Instead of being driven in a car to get to school, or walking along the suburban streets, I’d take a subway. And instead of going to the ONE coffee shop in town, I’d have my pick: Starbucks, no-name cafés, diners . . . And my group of friends? It would be a crazy talented group, like the kids from tonight, and each person would do something totally amazing in the arts. We’d go to cool shows and art exhibits, and check out stores together. It would be insane!
That’s when my phone rang: Bevan. I instantly felt guilty about having hung out with Luc. Which is silly because it’s not like anything happened. But still . . .
“Hey, Mads! Haven’t heard from you in a while,” he said.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, suddenly feeling even more guilty for not being in touch with him more. “It’s been super busy here. We’ve just been doing a million things.”
“That’s cool,” he said. I could hear one of his favorite bands playing over his iPod speakers in the background. “Have you just been chilling with your parents? Or have you met any city kids?”
In a perfect world, I would have poured my heart out to Bevan about all that was happening, and he totally could have helped me work through it. I mean, isn’t that what’s supposed to happen when two people like each other? They talk about important things and care about each other’s opinions and stuff? But I didn’t. He just wouldn’t have gotten it. Not like Lanie . . . or Evan.
“Actually,” I said. “I hung out with a group of dancers that Katie is friends with.”