Ashley Monroe stood impatiently at the end of the line of students. She shifted from foot to foot impatiently, pursing her lips. Of course, she was still in trouble for the fight with Mazy.
On the other end, Anna Peters was looking bored, black fingertip playing with the strings of her hoodie, smacking gum. Mrs. West, detention supervisor, instructed her to spit it out, and she did so, rolling her eyes.
Once they dispersed for tasks, Maggie tried to maneuver towards Ashley Monroe who was, it seemed, intent on serving her time glaring at everyone as she grabbed a giant broom. Before she could get to Ashley, Anna appeared.
“Oh, hey.” Maggie was relieved. She needed to ask Anna how it went.
“Want to help me clean the trophy cases?” the girl asked her.
“Sure!” Maggie agreed, carrying a sponge and bottle over.
They started at the top, reaching as high as they could which made it difficult to talk. The supervising teacher was nearby then anyway, and they weren’t supposed to be talking. Maggie was the worst at cleaning glass. No matter what she did there were always streaks.
“Did you tear the poster?” Anna whispered, as the supervisor moved to the other end of the gym to yell at some boys who were goofing off.
“What?” Maggie thought she must have misheard. “No!”
“Didn’t think so.” Anna was quickly satisfied, but Mags was slightly shaken.
“Why would you think that? I didn’t even know the girl. What motivation would I have to tear up a memorial I helped Becca make?” she asked.
“I’m not the one who thought that.” Anna put special emphasis on “I’m,” as if someone had. Maggie raised her eyebrows, twitching her nose in thought.
“No talking,” the woman yelled. They were forced to scrub in silence for a while. Maggie took out her frustration on the glass, furiously rubbing little circles. It seemed to take forever for the supervising teacher to make her way again to the other side of the gym.
When they finally had a second, Maggie asked in a rush, “What happened at the séance? Anything?”
Anna looked at her sideways a moment. “Nothing really.”
“Have you thought of trying a board?” She thought of the face of a Ouija board, that fat, black letter M.
“You seem to know a lot about this,” Anna said cautiously.
Maggie changed the subject, asking something she had wondered. “Why did you do it? The séance.”
Right on time, the woman was nearing them again, stern look in place. Mags slid down her side of the case, Anna doing the same in the opposite direction. They worked their way gradually back to the middle. Working shoulder to shoulder, Maggie could only smell a piney scent, vinegar, bleach. If Anna wore perfume, M or no, Mags couldn’t smell it.
Finally, they had a chance to speak again. Anna was quick to answer Maggie’s question: “I want to know what happened too. Amanda and I were friends.”
“You were?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Anna told her. “She wasn’t a clique snob. We were in band together since middle school. Unlike Becca, she didn’t drop it when she got popular. She was nice.”
“Wow. Yeah, I put some band pictures on the poster,” Maggie recalled aloud, Tommy’s words coming to mind as well. Usually, he had said, Amanda was Nice Kid.
“What do you know about it?” Maggie tried to sound casual.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Well, I’m friends with Becca and Tommy,” she mumbled. Why did she care so much? Because she had seen a ghost?
As if picking up on her thoughts, Anna continued, “So then why so curious about the séance?”
“Look, I thought I might have seen something Friday night. Out there. Where it happened.”
“What did you see?” Anna was not judging. She was curious.
“Someone in cheer uniform, with short hair,” Maggie barely spoke.
Anna’s mouth opened and closed. “What time?” she asked.
Maggie tried to recall. “Not sure. About 10:30.”
“That’s exactly when we did the séance!” she hissed. “Of course she appeared where she died! Why weren’t we out there?” Anna shook her head at their stupidity as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Just one problem,” Maggie admitted. “No one else saw her.”
Anna hesitated. “Who else was there?”
“Mazy and—”
Mrs. West cleared her throat behind them. Maggie and the other girl squeezed out their sponges over a bucket, rinsed them, and then commenced to do the bottom of the glass, working again from the outside in toward each other. Maggie’s knees did not like being on the gym floor.
Ashley was arguing with the students sweeping the bleachers. Maggie stared as it escalated to bitter shouting. They were left alone as West went to sort it out.
“What’s up between you two?” Anna asked, watching Maggie spying Ashley.
“Nothing really. She thought I was hitting on her boyfriend, Mark. Definitely not interested. Do you know anything about her?” Mags asked, hoping she sounded disinterested. “I heard she and Amanda hated each other.”
“Oh yeah,” Anna confirmed with a half-laugh, returning to her glass.
“Do you know why?” Maggie pressed, hoping she could get an answer before they were hushed again.
“It’s no secret,” Anna shrugged. “She accused Amanda of going behind her back with Mark.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. No one believed it, though. She had Tommy, you know? But Mark’s the same guy she got in the fight with you and with Mazy over too. She must be nuts over him.”
“Yeah,” Maggie breathed. “Must be.”
Detention was over. Handing back their supplies, Maggie tried again to get close to Ashley, but missed her. She gave Anna a small smile on her way to the bathroom. She hated smelling like cleaning products.
Standing at the sink, looking at herself in the mirror and trying to picture Maggie Brennan in a cheerleading outfit, a stall door opened and Ashley walked out. She looked at Maggie, going to the sink next to her to wash her hands. She said nothing. Maggie could not help but stare.
“What?” Ashley snapped, reaching towards Maggie’s face suddenly. Maggie jumped, feeling stupid as Ashley pulled away a paper towel from the dispenser by Mags’ head. Ashley laughed, drying her hands and balling up the paper.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she offered. “I owe you an apology. I thought you were dancing with Mark.”
“Does it matter? I mean, why do you even care at this point?”
Ashley didn’t answer at first.
Maggie did not feel brave. She knew she might get slapped again, but it needed to be said. “I mean, you gave up a best friend and cheerleading and Homecoming Court, got in trouble, and hit someone you don’t even know who wasn’t even doing anything for a guy who called you nuts and dumped you in front of the entire school and didn’t even wait a day before asking out someone else. Why even care about Mark at this point?”
“I don’t.” She tossed the paper into the trash with her words, offering Maggie a strange, little smile. “Careful with your new friends, Mags.”
That wasn’t the first person to warn her about her friends. Anna had too. Those two people had known the group of friends for a long time. And of course, if the note meant anything, Amanda may have been betrayed by one of them.
Who was it, Maggie wondered, who had suggested she tore the poster? Why would anyone think that?
Even worse, had Becca heard the rumor? What about Tommy?
Ashley spun around and pushed through the swinging door before Maggie could think of a response. It then hit her—the smell. When Ashley swished her hair and the door swung behind her, a whiff of perfume flew back directly into Maggie’s face, and she felt like an electric charge had gone through her. She scrambled out the door, but the hallway was deserted. The scent was still fresh, and then she was sure that it matched both the note and the perfume she had sm
elled at Tommy’s.
Ashley Monroe wore the same perfume as her ex-best friend-turned-enemy, Amanda. And she was an M. Could she have been right to suspect Mark? Was it Mark that left the letter in Amanda’s locker, or was it a trap set by Ashley? Was she capable of being so crafty, when her temper was usually so quick? That sounded more like Mazy. Putting the note in Mark’s locker to get Ashley’s reaction was awfully similar.
Maggie wanted to tell Tommy what she had found out immediately, but she had to head to the gym. She dreaded this more than detention: Becca as a drill sergeant.
“There you are!” Becca hopped off the bleachers, abandoning the phone she had been fiddling with as Mags reentered the gym. “Ready to get started?”
“I guess.”
“That’s not going to work,” she scoffed, arms folded as she smiled at Maggie. “The biggest thing Sarah is looking for is a positive attitude. Spirit. Cheerleaders help the team keep their energy up after injuries, exhaustion, dehydration, and discouragement. We keep the crowd in the stands engaged. We have to keep smiling even when we land wrong, when we sweat, when we are losing or have just been dumped. You said you can hide your secrets; it’s like that.”
Maggie had never thought of it that way. She had also never been the cheery, evergreen, optimistic type. Becca sensed this. “Try smiling. Think of something that makes you smile.”
Tommy’s face was in her mind before she could think. “That’s it,” Becca said, surprising her. Maggie hadn’t realized she had been smiling. “Bigger though. Cheerleaders get up in front of everyone, try new flips, and trust each other to catch them—they have to be unafraid and confident. Confident smile, not shy. ”
Reminding herself that Becca couldn’t read literally her mind and it was safe, Maggie recalled the previous evening, her back against the desk in Tommy’s room. She thought of his scent and of his rumbling voice…his eyes. He had said she smelled nice.
“Perfect,” Becca said approvingly as she circled her new friend. “The dimples will definitely give you a leg up. Just remember: smile. If you mess up, keep smiling and keep going. Sarah can teach you everything else. She wants someone who can cheer.”
Maggie nodded, feeling nervous already. “You should change out.” Maggie scurried to the locker room where she quickly slipped into her yoga pants, a tank top, and a sports bra, hurrying back out to meet Becca. She copied the cheerleader’s hair in a loose ponytail pulled to the side. “So, I’m not going to make you run and stuff. Sarah will do that at conditioning later, and I don’t want you to be too tired while she’s watching.”
“So what’s next then?”
“Well, you have to make sure to speak up, project your voice.” Maggie nodded. She had her year of cheer in middle school and a little theater; she knew how to project. “Try saying: ‘F-I-G-H-T, you ain’t got nothing on me!’”
Maggie put her hands on her hips. “Seriously?”
Becca pursed her lips, tapping her foot as she waited. Maggie cleared her throat and pushed the air out from her stomach, sending it bouncing off the walls of the gym. Becca was pleasantly surprised by her ability.
“We won’t waste time on that then, just make sure you do it as well. A couple of girls who have tried out before are too quiet or don’t speak clearly. Now, let’s stretch.”
Maggie thanked God for her mom’s yoga obsession. Maggie had flexibility going for her. Touching toes? No problem. Wall splits? Easy. Once they had stretched for a while, Becca checked the time. “Okay, looks like we have time to do some jumps. Basic jump.” Becca leapt high into the air, feet pulled up behind her, arms outstretched.
“You try.” Maggie came only a few inches off the ground and landed unsteadily, forgetting to smile—or breathe.
“You’ll have to practice,” Becca told her flatly. “Try to have your head hit the height of the top of your door in your bedroom. And make sure you put down pillows in case you fall. Try again. Knees bent high, arms stiff and straight. Smile.”
Maggie jumped and jumped and jumped, trying to ignore how silly she looked by concentrating on what would have happened if the car had not pulled up as Tommy was leaning towards her. “Now, the big one: the toe touch.” Legs launched straight out in front of her, Becca touched her toes before landing. Maggie tried, looking like a crippled, spastic bird.
“Confidence,” Becca reminded her. “Fearless.”
That didn’t seem like it was going to fix her.
Maggie was relieved when the others arrived until conditioning really began. Sarah made them run and do sit-ups and pushups. Maggie wasn’t as skinny as a lot of the girls and she wasn’t a fast runner, but she struggled to keep smiling.
Then, Sarah taught them a simple cheer, which went better. Finally, she went through the first part of Friday’s dance routine. Hopefully, she could hide in the back. When it was over, Maggie chugged down water, finding Becca. She expected to go home, but Becca had other ideas. “We only have a few days. You need to have the cheers down pat. And we should practice the routine.”
By the time she clattered into the door of the little green house, Maggie was too tired to eat dinner. She did not want to shower. She could not do homework. She forced herself to soak in the tub, munched on something healthy, and jumped three times, feeling utterly ridiculous, before falling into bed.
She hoped she wouldn’t have any more nightmares. She was exhausted, living three lives: student, cheerleader, detective. One of them would clearly have to go.
That day she had learned that Ashley Monroe had the same perfume as Amanda and had accused her late ex-best friend of seeing Mark. And someone had started a rumor that Mags had destroyed the poster at the dance.
“Be careful with your new friends, Maggie,” Ashley had said. She was being careful, wasn’t she? Not for the first time, Maggie thought of telling someone, like her mom or the police or maybe even Mr. Garrett. She did not. She had the feeling that if she waited too long, she might end up in a bad situation. She drifted off as she tried to imagine what could possibly go wrong.
The next morning, she found out exactly what could go wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
What Went Wrong
“The police are here,” Mazy told Becca and Maggie the moment they arrived at school. The old mood was back, the hushed hallways and looks down at the floor. People whispered. No one laughed. Faces passed in the hall weren’t smug or mindless as everyone was herded from classroom to classroom at the bell like cattle. There were emotions: anger, sadness, nervousness, suspicion. Only one face stuck out brightly. Becca was beaming.
“Did you know the cops were here?” Tommy asked her.
“Isn’t it great? They’re finally taking it seriously.”
Tommy scowled in response. “Tyler!” he called as he spied his brother. “What’s up? Did you know about this?”
Tyler approached them. He seemed more himself. “How would I know about it? I spotted Dad and he said they are just taking statements. Principal Hash didn’t want them to at first, trauma and all that, but now…” he trailed off, shrugging.
“Now what?” Tommy demanded to know what had changed.
“They don’t have any leads. They’re under pressure,” Tyler explained calmly.
Tommy gave Maggie a look she couldn’t quite read. It had been a while since she had seen that look from him. He held her gaze though, as if trying to tell her something. She wanted to tell him what she’d discovered yesterday about the scent of the perfume, ask him if she should tell the cops about the note. But she couldn’t. Not with Mazy and Becca around. And Tyler. And then Mark walked up.
“What’s going on? Did someone—”
“No!” they told him quickly. “The cops are taking statements about Amanda.”
“What, like just questioning people?” he asked, incredulous. Maggie was the only one who seemed bothered by his reaction.
“No, taking statements, idiot,” Tyler told him. “Come on.” He grabbed him by the shoulder and th
ey went on about their day. Tyler was as normal as ever, but Mark seemed paler. He ran his hands through his hair. Maggie spotted Tommy watching the pair, his eyes almost glowering.
She looked down at her shoes. Just sneakers today. She couldn’t bring herself to put that much effort in, tired and sore as she was. She hurried to get to math so she could finish the homework before class started. She had just scribbled down an answer that was probably wrong to the last problem when the bell rang. First thing, Mr. Garrett called for homework. Maggie smiled at him, turning hers in. He returned the smile, in his grumpy twitchy sort of way. She felt like she had finally hit a patch of luck.
Things were going normally in the chemistry lab, Penderghast as unpleasant as ever had at least stopped picking on Maggie and Becca and resorted to treating everyone like morons. Her string of condescending remarks were interrupted only by the door opening.
“Rebecca Spint?” the secretary called. Becca did not wait to be dismissed. Maggie guessed she was being interviewed by the police. She did not return by the time the bell rang. Maggie felt unusually alone as she entered the cafeteria at lunch until she met up with Mazy and Sarah.
“Where’s Becca?” was the first thing Mazy asked.
“I think she’s talking to the police.”
“Yeah. I had to talk to them. It was weird. Like a real investigation,” Mazy said.
“It is, I guess. Wonder what they are still talking about,” Maggie said.
“Well, Becca knew her better than anyone. Lots to talk about,” Mazy brushed it off.
It was only when Sarah spoke up that Maggie realized the girl had been quiet. “They asked me if I thought it was too soon to hold try-outs.” She looked down as she said it, as if contemplating. She sounded puzzled.
“They are just poking their noses around, Sarah,” Mazy was first to assure her, surprising Maggie. “What are we supposed to do? Have no pyramid or proper team? Why are we being punished?” Mazy glared in general.
Keep Your Friends Close Page 19