More than ever she was grateful for all the time Riley had spent with her, teaching her the routines so she wouldn’t look like a total clown when she joined the team. There was no way she had the routines down pat, but at least it would shorten her learning curve. Now she had to be careful not to act like she was picking up on things too quickly. It felt like a balancing act.
As Lishia walked to the girls’ gym, she looked forward to when she would no longer be acting—when she could return to responding normally and not feel so guarded about everything she said or did. But for the time being she knew there was no room for slipups. She had to continue this charade that she and Riley had so painstakingly created.
She was welcomed to the gym with warm congratulations as well as some slightly suspicious looks. Some girls obviously had trouble believing it was a coincidence that Lishia and Riley had just happened to become best friends—and now this. But as they worked together and Lishia took special care to be extra nice to everyone, things seemed to settle down.
“We need to practice during Thanksgiving break,” Amanda announced when they were back in the locker room. The team agreed to some time slots and locations, and then everyone told each other to have a happy Thanksgiving and went their separate ways.
“You were perfect,” Riley told Lishia as they went to her car. “Everyone bought your Oscar-worthy performance.”
Lishia let out a weary sigh. “I’ll be glad when things settle down. I had no idea how much work it is to be an actress. It’s no wonder I took art instead of drama.”
Riley laughed. “Well, you pulled this one off like a natural.”
Lishia knew that was meant to be a compliment, but somehow she heard it another way—almost as if Riley was praising her for being a good con artist. Anyway, it rubbed her the wrong way, and suddenly Lishia didn’t feel like talking. She got out the list that Mrs. Glassman had given her and began to study it.
“Is that the uniform list?” Riley asked as she stopped for the light.
“Uh-huh . . .” Lishia sighed. “Wow, I had no idea everything was this expensive.”
“Yeah. And it’s too late for you to participate in the fundraisers.”
“I don’t know if I can afford this.” Lishia looked at Riley with worried eyes. The truth was, she knew she could not afford this. No way, no how. “Maybe this was all a mistake and I should just—”
“No! You have to do this, Lishia,” Riley insisted. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”
“Mrs. Glassman suggested I might buy stuff from Gillian.”
“Ugh, you don’t want her things. Even if she was willing, which I doubt, there’d be no way to know how she might sabotage them before she handed them over.”
“But everything costs so much.” Lishia folded the papers and tucked them back into her bag.
“Don’t start freaking yet. The first game isn’t for a couple of weeks. We’ll think of something by then.”
“Like rob a bank?”
Riley laughed.
“I don’t know . . .” Lishia felt close to tears now. “Maybe this really was a mistake. Maybe this is what I get for being underhanded.”
“Don’t say that. You weren’t underhanded.”
Lishia bit her lip.
“Gillian brought it all on herself.”
“We helped,” Lishia quietly admitted.
“All we did was report on what happened.”
“Not everything.”
“What do you mean?” Riley’s brow creased.
“I never told Mrs. Glassman that you and the other cheerleaders there were drinking that night too.”
“Well, of course not.”
Lishia looked down at the bag in her lap.
“But none of us took it as far as Gillian did either. We didn’t make total fools of ourselves.”
“Did you know that Gillian’s parents were having some problems?” Lishia said quietly.
“Oh, good grief! Everyone’s parents have problems. It’s no excuse to go to pieces.”
“Mine don’t.”
“Your parents have no problems . . . right?”
“Nothing big enough to make me go out drinking.”
“Then don’t. No one expects you to. But don’t start feeling all sorry for Gillian either. What’s done is done, and for you to turn into a bleeding heart will not help anyone. Not you or Gillian. Do you seriously think she wants your pity now? It’s not like it’ll undo her suspension.”
Lishia knew this was true, but she felt sorry for Gillian just the same.
“Anyway, don’t get all bummed about the cost of the outfits,” Riley said as she pulled in front of Lishia’s house. “We’ll figure out something. Maybe we can have a fundraiser just for you.”
Lishia nodded. “Thanks.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Riley called out cheerfully.
Lishia returned the greeting with a little less cheer, then hurried into the house to avoid the raindrops that were starting to splatter down. She knew her mom was home because her car was in the driveway. That was the problem with her teaching only half days—she was usually home in the afternoon. Lishia had liked that when she was younger, but sometimes, like today, she would’ve happily avoided her mom’s inquisition about her day.
“Just who I wanted to see,” Mom called from the kitchen. “I could use a hand, Lish.”
Lishia hesitantly peeked in. “Yeah?”
“Want to help me get the rest of the groceries out of the car?”
“Okay.” Lishia pulled her parka back on. At least this bought her a couple of minutes to figure out how to hit Mom with her latest news. She knew she should act like she was excited and happy—but she was so tired of acting. She gathered up the remaining bags, then hurried back inside, dumping them on the counters. “What is all this?” she asked.
“We’re hosting Thanksgiving, remember?” Mom shoved a bag of apples into the fridge. “Grandma Willis is coming and—”
“I have some interesting news,” Lishia said suddenly.
“What?” Mom paused and looked at her.
“I made the cheerleading squad.”
“What?” Mom set a can of cranberry sauce on the counter and gave her a puzzled look. So Lishia explained about a girl getting kicked off. “The routines are all designed for seven girls. It turns out I’m the alternate, so I’ll be cheering for basketball season.”
Mom broke into a wide smile. “Well, that’s wonderful, sweetie. I’m so happy for you. How exciting.” Her smile faded. “But you don’t seem happy. What’s wrong?”
Lishia felt a lump growing in her throat. “I—uh—I’m happy. It’s just that—” Now she started to cry.
“What is it?” Mom put her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “Talk to me.”
Suddenly Lishia was worried. She wanted to tell her mom everything, but that would get everyone, including her, into trouble. Besides, even if she spilled the beans, how would they possibly untangle everything? What good would come of it? Riley was right—what was done was done.
“Come on, sweetie, tell me what’s wrong,” Mom urged as she held Lishia at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. “You should be dancing for joy—not crying.”
“It’s just that”—Lishia reached for her bag and pulled out the paperwork—“it costs too much. I can’t do it. I’ll have to tell them that—”
“Wait a minute.” Mom took the papers from her. “Let’s see.” She began to go over the list, reading it out loud and letting out short exclamations as she read prices. “Oh, my! I had no idea these things were so costly. How did the other girls afford it?”
Lishia explained about fundraisers. “But now it’s too late.”
“Oh . . .” She handed the list back to Lishia.
“So I should tell them no, huh?” Lishia hoped beyond hope that Mom would agree. Oh, she’d be sad and say it was too bad, but then she’d turn parental and say the wise thing to do at this point was to pass. Lishia could act sl
ightly hurt by this . . . but then she’d agree.
“What about the girl who got suspended?” Mom questioned. “Couldn’t you buy her uniform and things from her—at a discount, of course? Or maybe she’s the wrong size.”
“She’s actually about the same size as me . . . well, I don’t know about shoes, but I don’t want—”
“Well, we could certainly afford new shoes, Lishia. But if you could talk to her and find out if she’s—”
“That’s just it. She’s so mad . . . you know, about getting kicked off . . . I doubt she’ll even speak to me.” That was an understatement. Gillian would probably claw Lishia’s eyes out before she’d let her have her uniform.
“Oh . . . I can see how that might be awkward.” Mom nodded. “And I can imagine she must be hurting.”
Now Lishia explained that she’d been having problems at home too. “Maybe that’s why she was drinking so much that night.”
“That’s sad.” Mom shook her head.
“So I guess I should tell them I can’t do this.” Lishia waited.
“Don’t be too hasty. Let me talk to Dad. You know you have a birthday in January. We might be able to call part of this your present. And you could do some babysitting during the holidays. Remember last year when you babysat on New Year’s Eve and made such good money?”
“Yes, but—”
“And Lishia, have you prayed about this?”
Lishia gave her a blank look.
“Because you know if this is God’s will, he can provide for you, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“So that is just what we’ll do. We’ll pray about it. And while I’m at it, I’d like to pray about the girl too. What’s her name?”
“Gillian Rodowski.”
“Rodowski?” Mom tilted her head to one side. “That’s not a common name.”
“So?”
“Well, there’s a Mrs. Rodowski at my school this year. I barely know her, but she recently took over a fifth-grade class during Mrs. Spencer’s maternity leave. I remember hearing her saying something about a teenage daughter. Do you think that could be the same Rodowski?”
“I have absolutely no idea.” Suddenly Lishia was uneasy. Hopefully Mom did not actually know Gillian’s mother. “But I will say this—Gillian is not too happy that I’m replacing her. I think she might even hold me personally responsible for her downfall.”
“But you said she got arrested for underage drinking. How could that be your fault?”
“I know.” Lishia took a soda from the fridge. “But I think she wants to blame everyone and anyone.”
“Just the same, I will be praying for her,” Mom assured her. “And for you too. Our God is big enough to provide what you need for cheerleading.” Her smile reappeared. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie!”
Lishia gave a stiff smile. “Thanks.” But as she walked to her room, she felt like a heel. Her shoes might be sevens, but she was a size thirteen heel. And she didn’t want to think about what Mom had said about praying. Praying was the last thing on Lishia’s mind these days. Even if she wanted to pray—and she didn’t—she seriously doubted that God would want to listen.
nine
On Thanksgiving, Lishia’s entire family was supportive and celebratory over her new role as a varsity cheerleader. So much so that she could almost make herself believe that it truly was a good thing—that she’d earned it.
“This is to help you with your rally girl outfit,” Grandma Willis said as she tucked a fifty-dollar bill into Lishia’s hand.
“Oh, Grandma—this is too—”
“Don’t argue with your elders,” Grandma warned as she pulled on her coat. “I want you to make us proud, Lishia. And I plan to come to some of your games. You know I used to be a rally girl too”—she chuckled—“back in the dark ages.”
Before she left, Aunt Jamie gave Lishia a twenty. “I know it won’t get you much,” she admitted, “but maybe it’ll help a little.”
“See, God is already providing,” Mom said when Lishia showed her the money.
“And I’ll pay you another twenty,” Dad told Lishia, “if you give your mom a break and clean the kitchen.”
Mom started to protest, saying it was too much work for one person, but Lishia insisted it was a good idea and told Mom to go put her feet up. In a way, Lishia was glad to be by herself in the kitchen. It almost seemed like a form of penance—not that she believed in that sort of thing, but she still felt guilty for all the positive attention she was getting for making cheerleader. What would her family say if they knew the rest of the sordid story? As she scrubbed the greasy pots, she told herself that eventually it would all sift out and settle down and she’d feel like her normal self again. She just needed to be patient.
Over the next few days, Lishia practiced with the other cheerleaders, and by Monday she thought she was finally over the hump—she actually felt like she was one of them with as much right to be there as anyone.
“You’re a fast learner,” Amanda told her as they finished up practice on Monday afternoon.
“Thanks.” Lishia smiled. “I guess you guys are all good teachers.”
“Keep it up and you’ll eventually be as good as Gillian,” Vanessa said.
“She’s already that good,” Riley countered.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Vanessa scowled at Riley.
“I wouldn’t either,” Lishia said quickly. “Gillian really was good. I still feel sad for her.”
Riley rolled her eyes as she wiped her brow with a sweat towel.
“Gillian is having a real hard time with everything,” Vanessa quietly confided to Lishia. “She called me this weekend and we talked for a couple of hours. She was crying most of the time.”
“Poor Gillian.” Amanda shook her head. “I guess it’s a lesson for all of us.”
They all acted like this was true, like they would never make the same mistakes that Gillian had made, and everyone promised to be nicer to Gillian.
“Like that’s going to happen,” Riley whispered to Lishia as they went into the locker room.
Lishia tossed her a warning look, but Riley just rolled her eyes again. At times like this Lishia wished that Riley wasn’t her “best” friend. In fact, Lishia wished a lot of things that weren’t likely to come true. For instance, it seemed that despite how she was beginning to fit in with these girls, it was still completely impossible that she could have a uniform in time for their first game—even if they put a rush on the order, like Mrs. Glassman had suggested today, it was unlikely it would arrive in time since the company said it would take two weeks minimum.
As she got dressed, Lishia started to wonder if all this practicing with the team wasn’t a big waste of everyone’s time—or maybe these hard workouts would be her punishment—because eventually she’d have to concede that she couldn’t get that much money together, and they’d have to go with the second alternate.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Riley said as she drove Lishia home.
“I guess I’m kinda bummed.”
“You’re not still riddled with guilt over poor little Gillian?” Riley sounded disgusted.
“No,” Lishia snapped. “I just don’t see how I can possibly get enough money to order what I need in time for the first game.”
“You mean you haven’t ordered yet?”
“No, of course not. I don’t have the money yet.”
“Well, you better get on it, Lishia.” She sounded seriously irritated. “I didn’t work this hard to get you on the squad just to have you let us down.”
“You worked hard?” Lishia frowned. “What about me?”
“Are you kidding? I worked a lot harder than you for this.” Riley stopped at an intersection and turned to glare at Lishia. “I risked everything for you.”
“How?”
“For starters, I broke into Glassman’s computer, remember?”
Lishia nodded soberly. She had nearly forgotten that little part. “Even
so, I didn’t ask you to do that. And it didn’t make any difference as far as me being part of the team.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Huh?”
“What if I told you I’d tampered with the votes?”
“You tampered with the votes? Yeah, right!”
Riley pressed her lips tightly together—almost as if she hadn’t meant to say that.
“You didn’t really tamper with the votes, did you?”
“Never mind!” Riley lurched the car out into the intersection and let out a foul word.
“No, I want to know. What did you mean by that?”
Riley said nothing as she turned onto Lishia’s street.
“Out with it,” Lishia insisted. “Spill the beans, Riley. What did you do?”
“Fine.” Riley parked in front of Lishia’s house. “If you must know, you were the second alternate—not the first. Are you happy now?”
“Second?” Lishia gasped. “I was second? Then why am I—”
“Because I fixed it, okay?”
“Fixed it?”
“Yes. I got into Glassman’s computer and I simply rearranged the numbers to make sure you’d get on.”
“When did you do all this?”
“Right after you and I became friends.” Riley looked hopefully at Lishia. “I did it for you, Lish. I could tell we were going to be best friends, and I wanted you to be a cheerleader.”
“So what you told me, early on, about how I was first alternate . . . that was all a great big lie?”
“Of course it was a lie. Michelle was first alternate, but she probably would’ve been disqualified for grades and stuff. You actually lost by quite a few votes. You should thank me.” Riley glared at her. “Instead of acting like a totally spoiled brat.”
“I should thank you?” Lishia was thinking that Riley had ruined her life—and for what? Seriously, who was the spoiled brat here? For several seconds the girls locked angry eyes and neither of them said a word. Lishia was too enraged to speak. How had she let herself get into this mess?
Suddenly Riley’s scowl faded into a slightly catty smile. “Don’t you start getting any heroic ideas about undoing this by ratting on me. Because I swear, if you tell anyone, we will both go down—big time. I will make it look like it was all your idea, and everyone will believe me. After all, you were the one with the most to gain here. I was already a cheerleader, remember? So don’t kid yourself, Lishia—you are in this as thick as I am. No, thicker.”
The Best Friend Page 8