by Megan Sparks
Unlike the callback. There was no friendliness from anyone. It was every girl for herself.
One girl lost her balance during a turn and accidentally stepped on Kelsey’s toes.
“You nearly broke my foot, you cow!” Kelsey yelled. “I can’t believe you. Only a total clutz would do that.” She dramatically limped off to one side to sit down. Immediately Kelsey’s second in commands hovered next to her.
The poor girl looked ready to burst into tears. Annie narrowed her eyes. She’d seen the misstep and really couldn’t believe it hurt that much.
Had she been a roller girl, she would have laughed and helped the girl up. Unlikely. This was Kelsey, she’d never be a roller girl. Granted, if she were, maybe she’d be nicer.
“Watch where you’re going, girls,” the coach said. “And smile. Big, mouth-hurting smiles. If you’re not hurting, you’re not smiling enough.”
Annie spread her lips as far as they’d go. It wasn’t as bad as the other times, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She wanted to make the squad. Whether it was because she was competitive or actually wanted to be a cheerleader, she didn’t know any more. But even if she did a perfect callback, would Kelsey ever let her on the squad?
* * *
Lexie was waiting for her at Rosie Lee’s with a small overnight bag and another bag large enough to fit a body. “Art supplies. I had Dad drop me off. Can you imagine me hauling that the half a mile from my house to here?”
Annie laughed. “Not really.”
She pulled out the keys Dad had given her and they both dragged the body bag into the café. Lexie looked around the space again and took a deep breath as if she couldn’t believe her dream had come true. “Are you sure your dad will like it?”
“Ninety-six per cent,” Annie said. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll paint over it.”
Lexie whimpered at the thought, then seemed to accept the possibility. “There are always lost masterpieces in every artist’s life. Remind me to take a picture before we leave, just in case.”
Annie switched on the old radio in the kitchen while Lexie sketched the outline of the bus. Even with just the faint lines on the wall, the café felt as if it were coming alive.
“That looks amazing,” Annie said as Lexie started mixing paints.
“How good are your art skills?” Lexie asked, handing her a brush and a tray with red paint.
“I can paint within the lines, is that good enough?” Annie said, her hand already itching to get started. Dad was going to love it. He had to.
“Perfect. The bus is all yours while I do the people. Once you’re done, I’ll touch it up a bit. Groovy?”
“Sure, Michelangelo,” Annie teased. Who knows? Comparing Rosie Lee’s to the Sistine Chapel might not be that much of a stretch once Lexie worked her magic.
“I like him. Wait, you’re talking about the ninja turtle, right?” Lexie joked as she sketched out bus passengers. “Shame there are no real famous British superheroes for the bus. I mean there’s Captain Britain I guess, but no one but comic book nerds like me have heard of him.”
Annie couldn’t think of any either. Though that wasn’t to say there weren’t some cool British characters with special powers. “I’m glad you have David Tennant as Doctor Who.”
“Course. He’s the hottest and he had Martha. I used to pretend I was her. Time and space travel would be so cool.”
Annie nodded, it would be interesting that’s for sure. “I don’t fancy meeting some of those aliens though.”
“It’s not like they’d be worse than the ones we already know.” Lexie said as she did the outline for Nessie.
Annie knew by Lexie’s grin that she wasn’t talking about the green monsters from space with three eyes, but she couldn’t work out the reference. “Which aliens?”
“The cheerleaders, of course. I’m sure you figured out by now they’re not human.”
Annie laughed but inside she was worried. She hoped Lexie was just teasing and that she wouldn’t pull a Jesse if she did become a cheerleader.
Chapter Nine
“Dad! Dad!” Annie and Lexie burst into the kitchen where Dad was enjoying his coffee and croissants still hot from the oven.
“What’s the matter?” Dad asked, putting down his coffee.
“We’ve overslept and you have to drive us to school, right now.” Annie squeezed Lexie’s hand, barely able to hold in her excitement.
Dad looked at his watch. “You still have plenty of time.”
“No, you see the thing is I left my school bag at Rosie Lee’s and there’s this bit of homework...” Annie stopped, afraid she was digging herself into hole she couldn’t get out of.
Dad got up from the chair. “OK, calm down. Let me get the keys.”
“And shoes,” Annie reminded him.
“Shoes, snooze.” But when Dad came back he was wearing his trainers, one of them still covered in paint. Annie and Lexie each grabbed a couple of croissants before following him out to the truck. The girls squeezed in next to Dad.
Dad sighed as he turned the key. “It’s not like you to be so forgetful, Beanie. I think you’ve been hanging around me too much.”
“No, it’s just with school and cheerleading and roller derby and stuff, I forgot.” Annie stared at Lexie in the hope she’d help her out but Lexie was biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.
“Stuff? Is that teen-speak for ‘boy’?”
The girls burst out laughing, which made Dad think he was right. No point in correcting him. He’d find out soon enough.
Dad parked the truck in front of the café. “I’ll wait for you.”
“No, I left my keys,” Annie said. How were they going to get him to come in without revealing the surprise?
Dad turned off the truck and got out with a grumble. “Next time, I might think twice about letting you have a sleepover on a weekday.”
He unlocked the door and turned on the lights. The whole café burst alive with the characters on the bus. Last night when they finished, Annie thought it looked good. Now with the sunlight coming in through the front windows, the sight was spectacular. Every character on the bus was cartoony but instantly recognizable.
“Surprise!” Annie said.
Dad was speechless. He went up to the wall and touched Sherlock Holmes’s face to convince himself he was really seeing him.
“Do you like it?” Annie asked, suddenly thinking it wasn’t such a good idea. Dad being quiet for a long time was never a good sign.
Dad went from one person to the next, identifying them as he went along. “It’s incredible. Who did this and how much do I owe them?”
Annie let out the breath she had been holding and grinned. “Nothing. It was all Lexie’s idea.”
“Not true,” Lexie said. “Annie wanted to spice up the place. I just did the art.”
Dad wrapped Annie in a big hug, and then pulled Lexie in too. “It’s perfect, beautiful. Lexie, you are incredibly talented. You’re like a modern-day Andy Warhol.”
“I wish,” Lexie said.
Dad let go of them and looked over the mural in greater detail. He turned back to them with a big frown. “I’m afraid there’s a problem.”
“What?” Annie asked.
Dad crossed his arms and tapped his paint-covered trainer. “You didn’t sign it, Lexie. Art is worth nothing if it’s not signed.”
Lexie laughed and pulled a green marker from her bag to sign the right bottom corner with her full name: Alexis Raquel Jones.
Dad beamed. “Now it’s perfect. Except I better get you two to school before you really are late.”
* * *
At first the day got even better. After English class, Tyler came up to Annie’s desk. He hadn’t done that since the first day. Yes he smiled and waved when they saw each other in passing but Annie assumed they were just “hi” friends. Not “coming over to her desk for a chat” friends.
“Hey.” Tyler leaned over as she gathered her books. “Did you get tha
t homework? Writing an essay on the current ‘tone’ of Two Cities. What does she want?”
Annie licked her lips. She knew what Ms Schwartz meant, but how could she explain it? Especially when Tyler made her get all muddled up just by being around. “Uh, I think we have to write about the mood so far in the book. Is it happy, sad, sarcastic, that sort of thing.”
Tyler nodded. “That sounds doable. Hey, how did the cheerleading callbacks work out?”
Annie blinked. He knew she’d been called back? Just the thought made butterflies do backflips in her stomach. “Not too bad.”
“I love how you say that, ‘Not too baahhd.’ Your accent is really cute, you know?”
Instead of bothering her, like it did when everyone else pointed out her accent, Tyler’s comment made her insides flip-flop more. Did he really think her accent was cute, or was that his way of saying he thought she was cute?
“Well, American accents can be quite cute—” Annie started to say until Kelsey sashayed her way right between them. For once she was on her own, her clones obviously on mental-health leave.
“Tyler, did I tell you how great your penalty shot was over the weekend? How did you do it?” Kelsey linked her arm through Tyler’s and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Tyler beamed as he recapped his goal. “Well, the first thing is to fake out the goalie...” The two of them walked away to their next class. Tyler seemed to have forgotten all about Annie. Kelsey didn’t. She turned around and mouthed to Annie, “Mine,” before laughing at whatever Tyler had said.
So much for the morning’s good mood.
* * *
As Annie finished her essay on the tone of A Tale of Two Cities, she’d come to two conclusions: she had to be more assertive and she had to start going to soccer games at school. It was the only way she would have a chance with Tyler.
“M’lady, might I interrupt?” Dad said in an old-fashioned accent.
Annie saved the document and closed the lid of the computer. The essay was done and she could double-check it before class tomorrow just to be sure. She was at Rosie Lee’s with Dad trying to sort out the menu and testing the new kitchen equipment.
“I’m afraid if you must.” Annie straightened herself and pretended she was the mistress of a grand estate. Much easier than working out how to be assertive.
Dad bowed. “M’lady, might I offer you a sample of this year’s harvest?”
“That depends. Of what harvest do you speak?” Lady Anne peered upon the manservant with distaste.
The manservant revealed a tray from behind his back and placed it in front of Lady Anne. “If it pleases, m’lady, I have before me a new-fangled meal brought to my attention by the Earl of Sandwich himself.”
Lady Anne peered at the mounds of bread suspiciously. “And what, pray tell, are in these concoctions?”
“Only the finest, choosiest ingredients for m’lady.” The manservant pointed to each mini sandwich individually. “Tender ham and Dutch gouda cheese laced with apple sauce. Shaved turkey and fresh mozzarella with pesto and toe-mah-toe. And finally roasted mushrooms with chèvre from the local caprine dairy and avocado imported from the land of California.”
Lady Anne waved her hand in distaste. “That shan’t do. I will only consume avocados from the land of Florida. You know that. Now take them away.”
“Very good, m’lady.” The manservant bobbed his head and picked up the tray to head back to the kitchen.
“Oh, bring it back, you.” Annie dropped her act. “I thought you were going to serve British food: shepherd’s pie, bangers and mash, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, things like that.”
Dad set the tray back on the opening between the dining area and kitchen that Annie had been using as a homework table.
“I figured it’d be best to start with pastries and sandwiches, which I can make ahead of time, and see how it goes. If I do hot meals, I’ll have to hire someone. I’ve tried to be in two places at once. Doesn’t work.” Dad sighed.
That made sense, though it was still a shame. Dad’s roast beef and Yorkshire pudding was Annie’s absolute favourite.
“All right, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Annie reached for the first sandwich, ham, cheese, and apple sauce. Surprisingly gorgeous. The turkey was good, of course. And the last one with avocado and goat’s cheese was pure heaven.
“So you really think people will buy them?” Dad stuffed his hands into his apron to hide how nervous he was.
“Dad, you can take on Gordon Ramsey anytime, plus you’re loads friendlier. Rosie Lee’s is going to be a hit. I know it.” Annie finished off the rest of the sandwiches.
Dad hugged her and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re a great daughter.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“I know. That’s what makes you so great. Let’s go, it’s almost derby time.”
* * *
At the rink, Annie and Lauren were the first ones to put on all their gear and start warming up with figure eights. Jesse seemed pleased to see Annie when she collected her skates though he didn’t say much. Like he was reserving judgment about cheerleaders until he knew how Annie would turn out.
“All right, peeps, gather round for a sec.” Coach Ritter waved them all to the centre of the rink. “First of all, I’m so glad to see you; we’ve had a few girls decide not to come back and I wish them well. Today we’re mainly going to work on blocking. This is a contact sport so everyone needs to know how to block. If you can’t block, you can’t be a jammer. Simple as that. To get you ready for that, you’ll need to know how to push your way through the pack.”
Coach Ritter quickly counted the Fresh Meat and her roller girls. “OK, in groups of four. How many of you like shopping?”
About half the girls raised their hands and some, like Annie, half held theirs up, not willing to fully commit until they knew what was going on.
“Right, well we’re doing a different kind of shopping today with a drill called Shopping Carts. Groups, choose who’s going first.”
Annie was put in the group with Liz and two girls whose names Annie had forgotten. The one with glasses said she wanted to go first.
“Now line up, single file, and hold onto the hips of the girl in front. Whoever’s at the back has to push the line of girls to the other end of the rink. I want everyone crouched real low, knees bent, booties out. Ready ... go!”
Annie’s first thought was that it was kind of fun having someone else making her go. But then as the girl in the back went faster, it was harder for her to control the “cart” and make sure they went in a straight line. Not that that made it less fun. At one point they did a complete 360-degree turn that had them all laughing. When it was Annie’s turn, she remembered those wonky shopping trolleys back home that never went the way you wanted them to go. And also three people on wheels was still a heavy amount to push. The game was fun and everyone enjoyed the craziness. Getting on her toe stops helped to get the other girls moving. She could feel the effort in her thighs and bum as she leaned and pushed them towards the finish line.
Coach Ritter clapped as the final group pushed their “shopping cart” to the “designated area”.
“Good job, everyone, good job. Keep in mind you can use a variant of that in an actual jam. Your own teammates can be props. You can grab her by the hips or grip her arm to whip around the pack. That’s totally legal. You can even roll over her back if the opportunity is there. Just don’t knock her down or use the other team as a prop.”
A few girls let out scared chuckles. Annie sympathized; she knew what was coming next.
Blocking. Oh joy.
When she saw the Illinoisies play, Annie kept imagining herself as a jammer. She was fast, agile, and lean. Blocking might just break her. But if she couldn’t block, she’d never become a jammer.
“We’re covering bootie-blocking today. This is your biggest blocking asset, if you get what I’m saying.” Coach Ritter patted her backside. “Keep look
ing over your shoulders – you want to know where the jammers are all the time. Stay low, like we’ve been practising. In pairs, one girl is going to bootie-block the other who’s trying to get around her. I don’t want to see any grabbing or elbow blocking,” Coach Ritter warned as she paired them up.
Lauren was first and paired up with one of the girls in the league, Mattie. Lauren seemed to know exactly what to do and really set the standard for blocking. Her size helped, but she was also quick and had her bum swinging back and forth as she skated from one side to the other. Her head snapped from one shoulder to look over the other, never caught off guard.
“Yeah, Lauren!” Liz cheered and everyone else joined in to cheer her on. One girl, Aiko, whistled loudly. Annie clapped until her hands hurt.
When it was time for Lauren and Mattie to switch roles, Lauren hadn’t allowed the experienced girl to pass her once. She was certain to get into the team.
Three more pairs went before it was Annie’s turn. She was paired up with Holly.
“Pass or block first?” Holly asked.
From what Annie had seen, neither seemed like something she could do.
“Ah, pass please,” Annie whispered.
Annie crouched down, feeling like a giant next to an ant. But maybe that was a good thing; Holly couldn’t be too hard to pass.
Wrong.
Annie was vaguely aware of people cheering and the coach shouting suggestions, but she couldn’t really hear them. Holly was right in front of her and every time Annie tried to get around her, Holly swung her bum around to keep her from passing.
Think assertive. See a gap and go for it. Fake her out.
Annie sprinted to the side, changed directions, and then immediately changed back to the original side. For the smallest second, she thought she had made it. But no. Holly wasn’t fooled. Changing the angle of her skates, she cut across the track and was at Annie’s side in an instant. With a big swing of her hips, she made contact with Annie’s side. Annie’s skates left the ground. Not just her skates, all of her. She was in the air, flying. She reached out, trying to grab onto something ... anything...