Keep Your Friends Close

by Elsie Vandevere

  “I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it. Just trying to get a picture of the school’s mood,” Maggie added.

  “Yeah.” Sarah seemed to feel better. “You did well yesterday,” she told Maggie.

  “Oh, I missed it,” Mazy said. Sarah was coaching conditioning on her own until try-outs.

  When Becca returned, she was pale, quiet. Occasionally, she looked like she was getting very angry, then it disappeared. “How did it go?” they asked.

  She exhaled. “They’re so stupid.”

  The girls just nodded. “Are you coming to conditioning again?” Sarah asked Maggie, in the way of pointedly changing the subject.

  Maggie nodded, but Becca answered for her: “We’re working on it after classes.”

  “You’re coaching her too?” Mazy asked.

  “Yeah,” Becca said in a so-what tone. Mazy seemed irked, but Mags did not care.

  The whole cafeteria was subdued; people moved slower than usual. Mags scanned the room for Tommy, but he was gone as well. She really needed to talk to him about what she’d found in case he wanted to share it with the cops, but she didn’t dare text him now, in front of a sensitive Becca.

  The bell rang, somehow taking them off guard. They went mechanically to the next classes.

  Both periods were interrupted by staff asking for a student who then disappeared from some time. Maggie chewed her pencil, twitched her nose, contemplating going to the police or not. She supposed she would just wait until her name was called. No need to seem overeager all of a sudden. She wondered too, as she tried to remember the date of the Gettysburg Address for her history pop quiz, whether the person who had said she may have torn apart the poster had spoken to police yet.

  All thoughts were pushed from her mind as she went to meet Becca in the gym. While she desperately wanted her friend to abandon this mission, she did not have the heart to quit at the moment, not when her friend’s face was so determined. Becca needed the distraction, Mags was sure, so she hurried to change into clothes for cheering and joined Becca in stretches. She pressed the soles of her feet together, then far apart, extending one to each side. She bent forward and grabbed her toes, resting her head on her knee. That part was relaxing.

  “You’ll be ready to do a split easy. You just need to do these three stretches everyday, and you’re already flexible…” The nerves, though, were not as easily conquered.

  “Just relax! Trust yourself.” Easier said than done. She was surprisingly close to doing an actual real split, though, which kind of felt nice.

  Then, Becca spent an irrational amount of time on jumping. “You have to let go of fear,” she said. “You have the flexibility. You just have to really go for it.”

  So Maggie just completely accepted she was likely going to land hard on her tailbone and gave Becca what she wanted, not quite believing when the girl told her she had done it correctly. “I did?”

  Becca nodded. “Next time keep your eyes open.” Becca demonstrated, and Maggie put new effort into the height of her jumps alongside her coach, grabbing her knees for some reason. Thankfully, there was a mat so rolling forward then back wasn’t too bad, until Becca asked her to put it altogether.

  “What?”

  “Jump high and pull your knees to your chest, roll backwards on the ground. Repeat. Then do them at the same time.”

  “HOW?!”

  “Just do it.” Becca laughed.

  “Sadist.” Maggie mumbled repeating the actions until she was bit dizzy. Becca did the same: jump, roll back, and then- bam backflip. Without thinking, Maggie followed suit.

  “Oh my god. Holy crap!”

  “Told you.” Becca stuck out her tongue, but smiled.

  It was ugly, but her neck wasn’t broken. She grabbed Becca by the shoulder, her face red. “Becca, you’re a genius! I am not teachable. That was amazing. I did it.” Never in her life had Maggie pictured herself doing something like this. She might as well have been a trapeze artist. “I wish I had a video.”

  “Well, you’re pretty sweaty but I’ll take one if you want.” She giggled. “I guess it won’t matter since you’re not on social media, which is weird…”

  “Yeah…” Maggie had tried to explain her mom’s job made her paranoid when it came to cyber security, but it still made no sense to anyone- herself included. Tommy wasn’t into it either, though.

  “Now, can you do a cartwheel?” Becca asked.

  Maggie nodded. She had not in years, but it was like riding a bike, wasn’t it? She did one, sort of...she hurt her wrist and fell over with a loud smack. Her friend didn’t laugh. “That’s okay. Keep trying.” Becca critiqued while she butchered cartwheels until she was dizzy.

  Others began to arrive, and among them was Ashley. She looked smug. Even her hair bounced with confidence.

  This time in Sarah’s conditioning, Maggie’s running was worse than yesterday. A pair of girls snickered at her as they passed her, but she tried. She kept a smile on her beet red face, thinking of the funny time when Tyler walked in shirtless just as Maggie and Tommy were changing.

  She was as loud as possible during cheering, maybe even too loud. Timing and key were not her strong suit, and she didn’t have their accent either… She kept getting side-eye. The only thing easy to read about Sarah’s expression while they learned the next segment of the dance routine was that it wasn’t a happy one.

  Afterward, Maggie was seriously contemplating falling asleep on the gym floor. It was a cool surface, and her face was red and radiating heat. Also, the gym floor was horizontal, exactly how she wanted to be. Seemed like a good idea.

  Becca had other thoughts. They ran through the cheer and the dance again but Maggie was sluggish and just looked like a zombie.

  “Hey,” Maggie’s mom greeted her as she finally trudged into the house. “You look awful.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “What’s been going on?”

  She groaned. “Well, let’s see. The cops are questioning all the students. And Becca talked me into cheer boot camp. At least it will be over soon.”

  “Wow. Cops must really have nothing to go on. As for you cheering, there’s the real mystery,” she joked.

  Maggie shot her a no-nonsense look. She opened the fridge and retrieved some blueberry yogurt, sprinkling granola on top.

  “You going to eat anything else?” Her mom seemed even more stunned at this.

  Mouth full, she explained, “I don’t have the energy to chew.”

  That evening, as her eyes slowly dipped, making it harder and harder to see the numbers on the page, Maggie was really, really glad the last day of this conditioning and boot camp was tomorrow. The only thing she was sure about was that she was not cut out to be a cheerleader. Not at all.

  Maggie drank coffee Wednesday morning. Her mom leaned across the counter, sipping her own hazelnut flavored warm black nectar of the gods. Mags closed her eyes and felt the warmth flow through her, tingling awake each part of her body one at a time. When she opened her eyes, she found her mom watching her, an unusual expression on her face.

  “What?” Mags asked.

  “Maybe you need to slow down, Maggie. Too much excitement at once. You’ll wear yourself down.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Maggie snapped uncharacteristically.

  Cassidy Brennan cocked her head, cradling her coffee cup in both hands. “Suit yourself.”

  Mags mostly grunted through her conversation with Becca, who was astute enough to point out that Maggie had mascara dots on her eyelid. Becca grimaced watching her lick her finger and rub them off. “I have makeup remover in the baggie in the glove compartment.”

  “I got it,” she told her, flipping the mirror back up.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m exhausted. Penderghast is smothering us with revenge homework and your training is fit for the Navy SEALs.” Becca just laughed.

  When she got to school, Maggie wished she had not had coffee. She was alert, though it was su
perficial. Her body only felt ready. Inside, she was not far from crashing. If she had remained in her groggy stupor, she wouldn’t be perceiving small looks and whispers. She felt once more like everyone was looking at her, and not nicely.

  She shook her head to tell herself she was paranoid. But then, she turned and saw Tommy. He was watching her, but he wasn’t smiling. And when she smiled, he didn’t smile back. His look was unreadable again. Maybe sad. She stepped forward to talk to him, make sure he was okay, update him on the perfume.

  Something blocked her path.

  Tommy disappeared from view as Mark’s back stepped in between, occupying the other boy in conversation. Had he heard about the poster rumor? She needed to ask Anna where she heard that, if Anna knew anything else. She needed to talk to Tommy too, but Becca and school kept her every minute occupied. She resented them both irrationally at that moment, for plotting to keep her and Tommy apart. Where was Tyler the matchmaker when you needed him?

  She rolled her eyes and went to Mr. Garrett’s class. They were calling names again. Steven. Eden. Kyle. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the order. Would she be called at all, having not known Amanda? If she was, would they ask about the poster? Would they believe her about the letter she didn’t have? Each time the door opened, she waited for her name to be called, everything else frozen. Each time, it wasn’t. She was distracted when she was called on, unable to answer the question, and Garrett kept her after again.

  “Everything alright, Maggie?”

  “From your tone, it sounds like you’re assuming it’s not,” she smiled. He just looked at her as if he knew. She ran a hand over her hair with a huff. “Yeah it’s just, I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

  “Hey, don’t let it get to you. There have been so many rumors.”

  She was stunned. Her mouth actually flapped for a moment, bottom jaw trying to raise enough to form words. “Rumors? What rumors? What have you heard?”

  He smiled knowingly. “Now Maggie, I’m not the type to listen to rumors. Don’t worry. Everything will pass. Better get to class.”

  She walked numbly from the room. What rumors? What would pass? Who was spreading them? Was it M? Was M trying to detract attention from themselves by putting it on Maggie even if that made no sense?

  As Maggie waited through another miserable chemistry period, the clock seemed to pound louder. Twice someone came to retrieve another student. This time, she didn’t notice the names. All she heard was: not Maggie Brennan. Not her. Not her again. She just wanted to burst. She just wanted to tell everything. She wished she was imagining the times she caught people looking at her as they were surprised. Surprised to see her, as if they had heard she was dead, and yet there she was, trying to memorize the periodic table of elements and re-adjust her microscope.

  Becca didn’t speak as they headed toward the lunch table, her ponytail swinging. Again, the brunette’s mood was stellar, but Sarah seemed subdued. She was probably dreading having to tell Maggie she didn’t make the team, oblivious to how relieved that would make her. Or maybe she was feeling guilty again for holding try-outs at all. Mazy’s face seemed even more sour and smug at the same time than usual, as if she won a lemon sucking contest. Maggie thought someone behind them in line actually murmured, “That’s her.”

  It could have meant anything. That’s the new girl. That’s the cheer captain next to her. That’s the girl that desecrated the dead girl’s memorial. Maybe she was being paranoid, but that was it. It made her skin crawl. She couldn’t take it anymore, not one more minute of wondering. She whipped out her phone and texted Tommy.

  I need to talk to you.

  She shifted nervously from foot to foot, her coffee-coated stomach regretting it and at the same time hoping he’d answer. Her phone buzzed as she handed her money over.

  Then come talk.

  She looked up and scanned his usual area. He was sitting alone so far, watching her, perked up as if curious, at least one eyebrow concerned. She smiled in relief.

  She knew what she was doing was bold. If people were talking—not Sarah or Mazy because they would hardly say a word in between glances at each other—but if the school was talking about her, this would make it worse. She did not care. If they were going to talk, at least they should be saying something true: she liked Tommy. She probably shouldn’t, but she did. She couldn’t help it.

  Normally, she would have politely excused herself from her friends’ table before crossing the cafeteria, but she was too afraid at the moment to speak. It didn’t feel like a room. It felt like a stage, with everyone watching. So she sucked in a deep breath, shoving her tray out first, and followed it, head down, eyes locked on Tommy’s beautiful ones, trying to put up blinders.

  She walked fast enough to make strands of her hair blow back a little from her face. She tried to keep her expression pleasant, but anyone who could see her probably thought she looked pale. Her heavy feet picked up the pace as soon as she began walking toward the window where Tommy sat, but as she got closer, they got lighter. Then lighter and lighter. So did her stomach, so did her knees. She was a fluttering mess when she finally stood before him.

  “Sit down,” he invited. She sat across from him, feeling a rush like electricity. Like opening a present. That’s what bravery felt like, she guessed.

  She opened her mouth to speak before a sudden pause in footsteps made her look over to her left and up. And up.

  Mark. If he was M, he had found the letter and started the rumor about her to cover his tracks. And he seemed to be trying to keep Tommy and her apart. His look of concern only just covered his scowl in time. She had caught his fear even if their other friends had not.

  Tyler’s bright face appeared to save the day. “Let’s find another table, shall we?” He led a practically stomping Mark to another table a few feet away. She could feel people watching. Tommy unpacked his lunch from home as if all was normal.

  “Cookie?”

  “Like I’d turn down baking. Is it from your mom?”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t make them.”

  “Even better.” She smiled, biting into cinnamon. She felt instantly better.

  “Actually,” Tommy leaned forward. “Tyler learned how to bake really well from my mom. But don’t tell anyone. Ruin his rebel-without-a-cause image.”

  “Secret’s safe with me.”

  “Yeah, I heard that,” he said, looking at his sandwich.

  “Heard what?”

  He shrugged. “What did you want to talk about?”

  She took a deep breath. “Have you heard the rumor that I ruined the poster?”

  “What?” he laughed, clearly not taking it seriously. Her look made him realize it was no joke. “You’re kidding. You helped make that poster! What reason would you have for tearing it?” He sounded angry.

  “Exactly. But I’ve heard it from a student and Mr. Garrett that someone put that around.”

  “Who?”

  “No idea. Maybe M to distract everyone. I’ve been warned by two people not to trust everyone close to me. But one of those people was Ashley Monroe, who, by the way, has the exact perfume you had me smell the other day.” He raised his eyebrows in interest. “The same one on the note from M,” she basically mouthed. He glanced around.

  “You think it’s her?” He was excited at the idea that Amanda could have been receiving letters from someone other than Mark, his friend.

  “No idea. Where was Mark when the poster was destroyed?” she asked as it occurred to her.

  Tommy frowned. “I’m not sure. But you were with me.”

  “So you know I couldn’t have done that!” she said excitedly.

  He looked at her for a moment before smiling. “Yeah, I know you didn’t.” She stuck a fork in her salad, her appetite suddenly back. Lettuce never tasted so good.

  “Look, this cheer thing...” he made a face. “Why are you doing it?”

  “Becca asked me to,” she answered simply, then continued chewing.<
br />
  “But do you want to?”

  “Not at all. I told her that. My calves are killing me. You’ve seen how athletic I’m not. I’ll be glad when I don’t make the team and it’s over,” she winked. “But don’t tell.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “Becca asked,” she repeated. “She’s my friend. I owe her.”

  “Why do you owe her?”

  “Oh you know, just for being nice to me and all.”

  “Not as nice as me,” he teased.

  “No one is as nice as you,” she crooned, laughing. He shook his head and laughed too. Maggie Brennan finished her chocolate milk in one go.

  But lunch ultimately ended, and the longer she was away from Tommy, the more the eyes and silence bothered her. It was as annoying as flies landing on her. She would be working on something with her research project only to look up and catch the gazes fixed on her. Unlike flies, she couldn’t swat them away.

  She hoped she was imagining it. When the door opened during last period, she almost groaned. Another name was about to be called. Everyone stopped singing, notes of music falling away into silence.

  “Anna Peters.”

  Maggie had never even seen her in the crowded choir room. She was an alto, Mags a soprano. Anna seemed to give a sympathetic glance as she left. It seemed to linger on Maggie.

  Anna wasn’t around when they got released for the day, or the new and determined Maggie might have tracked her down and asked about everything she knew. Like her polar opposite, Becca appeared chipper and radiant.

  “Hey, Cadet, ready for practice?”

  “Followed by practice, followed by more practice?”

  “You bet. Reviews and rolls today. We need to work on your tumbling. Get changed quick.”

  “Have fun,” Tommy mumbled sarcastically as he brushed past.

  Stretching was over quickly. Maggie was pleased to see how far she had come with her jumps, but Becca still wasn’t satisfied. After those, she did cartwheels and round-offs until her wrists popped and her head spun so badly she laid on the gym floor. Becca stood over her, hands on hips disapprovingly.