Maggie Bean in Love

by Tricia Rayburn

  “Ms. P,” Maggie said once her backpack was stuffed with empty wrappers. She nodded toward Carla. “How does she do that?”

  “You mean zip through the water like a torpedo?” Ms. Pinkerton shrugged. “She’s tiny. Tiny people move faster than those who eat Kit Kats for their midmorning snacks.”

  “Not that,” Maggie said. “I meant … how is she smiling? Without drowning?”

  Carla was doing the crawl and dipping her face in the water with every other stroke. Each time she lifted her face out of the water, her smile lit up the natatorium brighter than the afternoon sun. Maggie had never seen anything like it, and didn’t know how it was physically possible.

  “I don’t know,” Ms. Pinkerton said after a minute. “I guess when you’re doing what you love, you just find a way.”

  Maggie considered this. She remembered the very first time she went swimming in the school pool. She’d never felt so light and so strong at the same time. After that it didn’t matter how she felt out of the pool so long as she was able to get in the pool every day. Was that how Carla felt now? Was that how she would’ve felt every day for the next three years, if they’d been able to save the swim team?

  “Ms. P … the school board meeting isn’t for four more days.”

  Ms. Pinkerton looked at Maggie, surprised. When Maggie didn’t say anything else, Ms. Pinkerton nodded and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Don’t worry, Bean. We’ll find a way.”

  21. “Just remember, Mags. Whatever’s meant to be, will be.”

  “Oh?” Maggie raised her eyebrows at Aimee as they hurried toward the auditorium. “What happened to taking down the breath-holding bloodsuckers? And breaking the circle of floating floozies?”

  “Yoga happened. Last week I told my parents that I would make the decision they wanted me to as long as they did something for me. When I said that that something was for them to stop fighting all the time, Mom signed us up for a yoga class so that we could work toward inner—and outer—peace. I think she did that so we wouldn’t have to actually talk about anything, but so far, it seems to be working.”

  “Wow.”

  Aimee glanced over her shoulder to her parents following close behind. “I can’t remember the last time they stood so close to each other without yelling.”

  “That’s great,” Maggie said. “And it was nice of them to come today.”

  “Yes, well, as soon as I announced this morning that I wanted to live with Mom, Dad whipped out a calendar and started coordinating our schedules. I’ll probably see them both more now than I did before.”

  “And you’re doing okay?” Maggie asked. “Feeling good about your decision?”

  “I am. I’m sure we’ll have our moments, but, like I said—whatever’s meant to be will be.” When they reached the auditorium door, Aimee leaned toward Maggie and lowered her voice. “But truthfully? I do hope we take down the floating floozies. A thousand hours in the downward-facing-dog position won’t change that.”

  Maggie grinned, took a deep breath, and pushed open the auditorium door.

  “Welcome from the Water Wings!”

  Maggie and Aimee froze in the doorway when Mrs. Richards and Mrs. Swanson thrust silver goodie bags at them. Maggie could see more iTunes gift cards, a Starbucks gift card, and an iPod arm band poking through the curly silver ribbons wrapped around the bags’ handles.

  “Inner peace,” Aimee whispered as they pushed between the mothers without taking the bags. “Inner peace. Inner peace. Inner—”

  “Over here, Bean!”

  Maggie followed the booming voice across the auditorium until she spotted Ms. Pinkerton standing on a chair and waving both arms in the air. The chairs around hers were filled with other swim team members and their families and friends. It was an impressive turnout, but any happiness Maggie felt at the show of support disappeared once she took in the rest of the room.

  The auditorium’s seating was divided into three sections. Two sections, each ten seats wide, ran along the far walls. The swim team crowd filled half of one of those sections.

  The middle section, which took up most of the room, was thirty seats wide. Silver streamers ran down the aisles, and big bunches of silver balloons were attached by silver ribbons to the end chairs of every row. And there wasn’t one empty seat, as the Water Wings and their supporters filled the entire section.

  “It’s like a wedding,” Aimee said.

  “After the champagne’s gone,” Maggie added. The Water Wings fans were already cheering and yelling like rowdy guests at a wedding reception.

  The noise only grew louder as they made their way further into the auditorium. By the time they reached the swim team section, Maggie’s ears were ringing and she was wishing she’d joined Aimee’s family’s yoga class too. She didn’t think it was possible to feel peaceful while surrounded by the cacophony of cheers and whistles, but maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to wage war quite as much.

  “Here’s the plan, Bean,” Ms. Pinkerton barked once Maggie and Aimee were within earshot. “We drew straws to see who would go first, and they won.”

  “They’re going first?” Maggie groaned. “We’ll never be able to get people’s attention after they’ve given out free cars, trips around the world, and whatever else they have planned.”

  “Don’t panic, Bean. It’s better this way. They’re just the opening act to our main event, the appetizer to our entrée.”

  Maggie started to respond, but stopped when she noticed Ms. Pinkerton’s baggy gym shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers. She looked like her old self again.

  “So after they get the crowd warmed up for us, I’ll say my spiel, and then the floor’s yours.” Ms. Pinkerton winked at Maggie. “We’re almost there.”

  As Maggie looked around the room, she thought that that much was true. Regardless of the outcome, in another hour, the fight would be over. And the next day, she’d be staying after school for practice … or going home, staring at the phone, and willing it to ring.

  “Is he here?”

  Maggie scanned the auditorium once more before dropping into the chair next to Aimee’s. “Nope.”

  “You really haven’t talked since the big date?”

  “You mean the ginormous disaster?” Maggie sighed. “No, we haven’t. He hasn’t called, and neither have I.”

  “Mags, if you want something, you have to do everything you can to get it. That’s why we’re here right now, isn’t it?”

  “Aim, I did do everything I could. That was the problem. What I wanted obviously wasn’t what he wanted, and now we’re not even talking, which was the last thing I wanted.”

  “We’ll fix it, don’t worry.” Aimee squeezed Maggie’s hand. “But for now, let’s stay focused. Are you ready? Do you want to go over anything?”

  Maggie was about to suggest crawling under the chair and staying there until the meeting was over when the auditorium lights suddenly went out.

  “Perfect,” Maggie whispered as the room fell silent. “If the electricity’s out, maybe they’ll postpone the decision and we can have a few more days to prepare.”

  Before Aimee could answer, the auditorium filled with a sound that resembled a hundred delicate wind chimes singing in the breeze. The sound started out soft as it surrounded them, but quickly grew louder. A spotlight shot out from somewhere near the ceiling just as a glittering disco ball lowered from the rafters over the stage. The ball spun faster as the chimes rang louder, causing the entire auditorium to sparkle like a swirling snow globe. Maggie closed her eyes when she started to feel dizzy, but immediately opened them again when the chimes and disco ball were replaced by techno music and strobe lights.

  “Inner peace!” Aimee shouted over the noise as a pair of silver wings shone against a stage-to-ceiling screen hanging at the back of the stage.

  “I can’t feel my feet!” Maggie shouted back. It was true. The music was so loud, the floor was vibrating and making her feet numb.

  The Water Wi
ngs opening act, which was a cross between a music video, a dance club, and a pep rally, lasted fifteen minutes. The music dulled only once, when the school’s cheerleaders ran onstage to get everyone on their feet and chanting along to, “When I say ‘Water,’ you say ‘Wings,’” and “We love the Wings, they give us things.” The cheerleaders were followed by members of the football, soccer, tennis, and track teams, who ran across the stage in uniform and tossed Water Wings paraphernalia into the crowd. As they tossed, a pair of silver sunglasses hit Aimee in the head, and a silver beach towel emblazoned with a pair of wings landed in Maggie’s lap. At the end of the performance, the entire middle section screamed and stomped as the Water Wings team walked onstage in their silver swimsuits. They formed a perfectly straight line that stretched from one end of the stage to the other, looped their arms around each other’s waists, and bowed.

  “That’s it?” Aimee yelled when the auditorium lights came back on.

  “Isn’t that enough?” Maggie yelled back.

  “But they didn’t say anything,” Aimee insisted. “The board doesn’t care about free stuff. We still have a chance!”

  Maggie looked to the board members, who sat at a long table at one end of the stage, banging gavels and speaking into microphones to get the crowd’s attention. After almost ten minutes, when people finally stopped screaming and started sitting down, Principal Marshall took center stage.

  “Thank you,” he said loudly into a microphone. “Thank you, Water Wings, for that, um, interesting performance. And thank you to everyone for coming out in support of your classmates. We’re very happy to see such enthusiasm, and regret that it’s prompted by such unfortunate circumstances. That said, I’d like to invite representatives from the swim team onstage for their rebuttal.”

  Trying not to dwell on the fact that their introduction came right after a reference to unfortunate circumstances, Maggie took the clipboard and notebook Aimee handed her, and followed Ms. Pinkerton to the stage. She waited on the stage steps as Ms. Pinkerton greeted the board and presented them with a variety of swim team accomplishments and statistics. Maggie didn’t think anyone in the middle section heard one word, but Ms. Pinkerton still spoke confidently, and the board definitely listened.

  As Ms. Pinkerton gave her closing remarks, Maggie scanned the crowd once more. She was nervous—more nervous than she’d been since trying out for the Water Wings almost a year before—and she hoped for the one familiar face that would help keep her calm. Arnie had been in the bleachers during those tryouts. He’d cheered her on while holding a big sign that he’d made himself with glue and glitter.

  But that was then, and this was now. She hadn’t talked to Arnie in almost a week to tell him about the meeting, and even if she had, she doubted he would’ve come.

  Her eyes landed on Aimee, and her heart lifted briefly when Aimee waved and pointed behind her. Maggie smiled as she spotted her mom, dad, and Summer sitting a few rows back, sharing a bag of popcorn like the meeting was a movie. Since Maggie had driven there with Aimee, she didn’t know when her parents would arrive, or where they would sit when they did. They weren’t who she was really hoping to see, but she was still glad they were there.

  When it was her turn to speak, she jogged up the rest of the steps. Her cheeks burned and her heart thudded in her ears as she hurried across the stage. She was grateful to hear the swim team section cheering and clapping, but was aware that the middle section was completely quiet.

  “You can do it, Bean,” Ms. Pinkerton whispered before turning the microphone over to Maggie.

  “Hi.” Maggie tried to smile at the crowd, and then looked down. The spotlight was so bright she couldn’t see anything or anyone. “Um, like Mr. Marshall said, thank you for coming out in support of us. It really means a lot. And Mr. Marshall, thank you and the board for giving us this chance to fight for our teams.”

  Mr. Marshall nodded and the rest of the board smiled politely.

  “So . . .” She squinted against the light as she forced herself to look back out at the auditorium. “As many of you have heard by now, the swim team does wonderful things for its members. It promotes physical activity and personal health. It encourages friendly competition. It fosters camaraderie and a sense of community. And perhaps most importantly, it helps young women feel more confident.”

  “We’ve heard it all before!”

  Maggie swallowed as the male voice called out from somewhere in the middle. His outburst caused whispers and giggle to ripple throughout the room.

  “You have heard it all before,” Maggie continued, tightening her hold on the notebook and clipboard as her palms grew moist. “That’s because for several weeks, we’ve been doing our best to educate the school community about the benefits of the swim team. We appreciate your listening, and are happy so many of you signed our petition to show your support.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Marshall!”

  The clipboard slipped from Maggie’s hand and clattered to the stage as Anabel Richards jumped up from her chair.

  “Miss Richards, I’m sure Miss Bean will be happy to answer any questions you may have as soon as she’s done speaking.”

  “But it’s important, Mr. Marshall.”

  Maggie caught Ms. Pinkerton’s eye as Anabel ran onstage.

  “Thanks so much, Maggie,” Anabel cooed as she took the microphone in one hand and nudged Maggie aside. “This will just take a second.”

  Maggie wanted to grab the microphone back, but knew that at this point, coming across as the saner, more mature organization was probably the only thing they had going for them. So she stepped back without protest.

  “The Water Wings and I would just like to make sure the board knows that we also educated the school community and started a petition.” She held up the rhinestoneencrusted clipboard for all to see. “We were so touched by the outpouring of support. I mean, we expected a lot of signatures—but in the end, four hundred and fifty-three of our wonderful classmates signed our petition. And we thank them. We thank them all!”

  Maggie tried to smile as Anabel blew kisses to the audience, curtsied, and presented their petition to the board, but she couldn’t move her lips.

  The Water Wings had gotten 453 signatures. Even after Maggie, Aimee, and several of the swim team members had blanketed the school over the past four days, they’d only boosted their count to 185.

  She was so stunned, it took her several seconds to realize that Anabel was back in her seat, and that everyone waited for her to continue. She was glad when Ms. Pinkerton gently pushed her forward, and her feet made it back to the microphone.

  “Um … so, like I was saying—”

  “Yeah, what was that again?” another male voice called out.

  “I don’t think you’ve really said anything yet!” a third shouted.

  Maggie looked out at the crowd as a fresh wave of whispers and giggles started. Her eyes flicked back and forth, from the swim team section, to the middle section, and back. The spotlight suddenly felt like it was a thousand degrees, and she wished she could make out Aimee, or her parents, or Summer. If she could just spot an ally, one person in her corner who would smile at her and silently promise that everything was okay, she could get through it. She might not save the swim team, but she’d at least finish her presentation and make it out of the meeting without melting into a puddle onstage.

  And then she saw it. At first she thought her fear and embarrassment were making her imagine things, but when she stepped away from the microphone and toward the edge of the stage, it was still there.

  At the back of the room was a small blue cardboard sign with glittery block letters that spelled out “Smile, BEANie Baby! This one’s yours!”

  It was the same sign Arnie had held up in the stands during Water Wings tryouts.

  Her eyes had started to adjust as soon as she’d stepped out of the spotlight and toward the front of the stage. She could now see enough to make out individual faces in the crowd, and smiled as soon a
s she saw Arnie’s peeking out from behind the sign. That was all she needed.

  “You want to hear something you haven’t heard before?” Maggie asked after darting back to the microphone. “A year ago, I decided to try out for the Water Wings. I decided this even though I weighed a hundred and eighty-six pounds that I tried to hide by wearing a swimsuit with a skirt.”

  “Maggie,” Ms. Pinkerton whispered behind her as the crowd erupted in gasps and giggles. “This isn’t what we talked about. You don’t have to—”

  “It’s okay,” Maggie promised. Her smile grew as she turned back to the audience. “I wanted to try out for the Water Wings for several reasons. At the time, I thought the most important ones were to look cute in the silver uniform, have an amazing circle of friends, and become instantly popular. And I did everything I could to make it happen. I even dieted and exercised until I passed out.”

  More gasps and giggles filled the room.

  “Anyway, long story short, I didn’t make the team.” She looked down to Anabel and Julia, who pouted in the front row. “It doesn’t matter why, but let’s just say it wasn’t because I forgot the routines. What does matter, is that I figured out what should’ve been the most important reason for trying out all along. And that was that in the water, I felt great. I felt strong, and healthy, and confident.”

  The gasps and giggles had faded, and now everyone listened attentively.

  “After I joined the swim team, those feelings grew more every day. I didn’t care what I looked like in the swimsuit, or how many new friends I made, or how popular I was. I just cared about swimming. And when that happened, when I focused only on how good it felt to be in the water, the rest followed.” Maggie turned to the board. “I’m not saying that the Water Wings doesn’t have its own benefits. But I am saying that their benefits aren’t more—or better.”