Keep Your Friends Close

by Elsie Vandevere

  “Good attitude,” she repeated.

  “This floor is pleasantly cold!” Maggie beamed her best smile.

  “Maggie, the plan was for you to make the team for me, and you’re not even trying. You have to want it.”

  “I am trying, Becca,” she whined, rolling over to get up. “I’m the worst cheerleader ever. In cheer order, I’m where the cheer dies.”

  Becca found that pretty hilarious. “Look, if you like the floor so much, we’ll stay closer to it.”

  “Really?” She was much too excited by that prospect.

  “Really. Get on the mat and show me how you tuck and roll forward.”

  “Ugh.” Attempt one went fine, but Becca wanted more. Attempt two, Mags was able to actually yank her own hair from behind her sweat band by her shoes. “Ow! This is sad,” Maggie bemoaned, sprawled on the mat as Sarah came in with her clipboard.

  Becca pulled Mags up to her feet. The cheerleader made a pouty face. “Your face is sad,” she said.

  Mags really was trying, but during conditioning she couldn’t decide if her run more resembled a jellyfish with all the flopping or an awkward duck. She couldn’t seem to remember what her feet were supposed to do when you ran, and as for arms and torso, forget it. But her face, she remembered, smiled. Always smile. She thought about lunch with Tommy.

  The final cheer and last step of the dance were surprisingly easy, so Maggie just soared on autopilot. She was hardly listening when Sarah made announcements about try-outs the next day. She just wanted a shower. She didn’t even try to mask her relief as disappointment when Becca said, “Let’s let you rest up for tomorrow.”

  Feeling refreshed after a shower, Maggie cut off Becca’s question about Tommy with one she knew her friend would pounce on as readily: “What should I wear for try-outs?”

  She was expecting a response, but not one that took the entire ride. “Okay, see you tomorrow! Thanks again.” Maggie scooted out of the car to freedom.

  “Mags,” Becca called to her, serious.

  “Yeah?” Maggie turned around.

  “Please just try, okay? For real.”

  Maggie nodded. “I will. Otherwise, I suffered for nothing.”

  She went inside to the typical empty, quiet place she was used to, and she was glad. She was not up for answering questions or even asking them. If her mom had been there, it might have been the perfect time to tell her about the note in a nonchalant way, to ask her what to say to the police if she was finally to talk to them the next day. But she wasn’t. So there was nothing to say.

  Instead, Maggie made an actual dinner (or close enough to it anyway) and sat on the couch to do what she could of her homework. She almost didn’t pick up when she heard her phone vibrate. Still, no word from her mom.

  How was practice?- Tommy.

  Horrible. I run like a fat jellyfish.

  Jellyfish don’t run. And they are weightless.

  Well, I flopped pale and gracefully like them then.

  No, you remind me more of a bunny. The nose thingy. Maggie smiled.

  Maybe I’ll try hopping then. She hoped the sarcasm went through the message.

  You don’t have to do this, you know. He was talking about cheer again, she was sure.

  I said I would. But that’s nice of you. she quipped.

  She finished homework early, all caught up. It was a relief. She switched on the TV, watching a comedy until her mom sent a text.

  Surveillance. There was no point in staying up, so Maggie went to bed at bedtime for an eight-year-old, gladly.

  Nite. She texted Tommy and her mom. Hey eyes were almost closed when her phone chimed. She grabbed it, already smiling, hoping it was Tommy.

  Don’t forget your pill.

  It was only then that Maggie slapped herself in the face. She had forgotten to take it twice now! Everything was getting in the way.

  She got up to take it, squeezing the bottle nervously as she swallowed, reading the print over and over as it moved from side to side.

  Good night, Margaret. from Tommy.

  She had to get her head clear, her priorities straight. She was still herself. Everything had not changed. She couldn’t get away from this. And if I let it get away from me it could be very bad, she told herself. Very bad.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rest in Peace

  RIP.

  That’s what it said, in runny black spray paint on her locker, or Amanda’s locker, or locker 237—whatever it was. Maggie Brennan wasn’t sure who it was meant for, her or Amanda, anymore than she could be sure who had done it.

  She had a few clues. It might be a jealous wanna-be cheerleader. Try-outs were today.

  It might be M.

  It could be whoever destroyed the poster. Of course, those could all be the same person.

  The object of it was simply to make people look at Mags, like the rumor that she had ripped the memorial, no matter how unlikely a suspect she was. And apparently, that plan was working.

  There was no doubt now everyone was looking now, and, unlike the last time her eyes had slowly filled with the stinging sensation and water as humiliation spread through her body, burning her face and tingling her fingertips, this time, everyone saw.

  Becca made eye contact with her, but did nothing. She just stared in total shock, as if waiting for something. Mazy actually took a step forward, but only for a better view to gawk. Her mouth was open, half-daring to smile. Mazy wasn’t above manipulating lockers herself, Maggie recalled.

  Other faces swam before her too, dozens, appalled, astonished, aghast and every other synonym adjective starting with an A you can think of—it was all there. Granted, they were getting harder to see clearly as her tears swelled more and more. She focused all her energy on not blinking.

  The chemical fumes of the fresh paint were not helping with the crying. Once again, like déjà vu, even the teachers who entered the hall were speechless. And soon, they weren’t the only ones. Mr. Garrett, face contorted in his most disapproving of all glares, brought two men in uniform down the hall towards where Maggie still stood, like a hung-up puppet, unmoving in front of her locker. Cops.

  Officer Latchley put a hand on her shoulder just as Mark’s face joined the crowd of onlookers. She was thankful the other cop’s wide body was blocking her face from view as the tears began stinging her skin.

  “Who did this?” he asked. She just shook her head, throat too tight to speak. She clearly had no idea. He sighed loudly. “Okay. Well, it obviously happened this morning.”

  “I’ll round up students who have been hanging around,” the other, thicker officer said. He turned to talk some people nearby. “Did you see anything?” She saw them shake their heads. Of course not. They didn’t know her. They weren’t going to help her. All they knew was that she may have destroyed a memorial poster of the dead girl. Never mind she never knew her. Then again, they also may have guessed she liked dead girl’s boyfriend, and that was the section of the poster with the most damage. Maybe Maggie looked worse than she thought.

  “What’s going on?” Someone pushed their way up, demanding so viciously Maggie couldn’t even recognize their voice at first. Her eyes widened when she turned to see Tyler holding onto his dad’s arm, face more serious than she had ever seen.

  “Relax,” his dad told him, his own voice uncharacteristically solid and in control. “Someone vandalized the locker.” Tyler’s face fell as did his hand once he finally saw the spray paint.

  “Who did it?” he asked Maggie.

  “How would I know?” she shrugged, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. His look was easy to read: he felt sorry for her. She didn’t even mind. At least he wasn’t suspicious. At least Tyler knew how ridiculous this was. She huffed, wiping her face which finally had enough blood going to it to blush, and turned to open her defaced locker and go about her day.

  “Don’t touch it, Maggie,” Officer Latchley stopped her. “We’ll need to photograph it. Maybe dust for prints. Don’t wor
ry. We won’t pry inside it.” He winked, his eyes looking more like Tommy’s. “And we’ll get it cleaned up for you.”

  “Thanks,” she responded numbly. She had her books on her shoulder and in her arm. She supposed she could carry them all until then. She had almost had to the first day. In fact, if Tommy had not stepped in and helped her, she may have just had to ask for a different locker.

  Things might be totally different.

  The sound of the bell sprang the hall to life. Mags was trying to shrug her bag back onto her shoulder as it kept sliding while at the same time move the corners of her books from stabbing her in the stomach. She felt them slip from her arms as well. She thought she had dropped them, but it was Tommy, taking them from her. Saying nothing and walking with his eyes to the front, they passed through a crowd of onlookers.

  Tommy walked all the way into her math class and all but slammed her books down on her desk, leaving quickly as the late bell rang. Mr. Garrett looked up with mild interest. Mags kept her eyes on the front of the room. As Tommy left, the warmth in her cheeks returned, dimples nowhere to be found, as whispers buzzed around her.

  “Shut up,” Mr. Garrett told them all in a bored manner. “Time to do proofs.”

  Proofs were fun. Maybe she was losing it, but at least they had an answer. Not only did they have an answer, but usually just one right answer. And you could even check. That’s why it was called proving. If you found M, or x, or whatever, you could be absolutely sure. Maggie had never appreciated math until Mr. Garrett praised her flawless proof written in blue expo marker before the class. She popped the cap back on, proudly.

  Her moment was killed. “Miller, Chase.” Another name. Again, it wasn’t her. Were they ever going to call her? When was it going to just be over with already?

  When the bell rang, she tried to gather her stuff and struggle up the stairs, but Tommy met her there. Wordless, he took them again and followed her up to chemistry, sat them again on her desk, and left. She didn’t focus in chemistry. She couldn’t. The minutes ticked by. The door didn’t open. No name was called.

  As the day wore on, she felt like something was going to happen. Like they were all waiting for it. The feeling was stronger when she entered that hallway where they had all cowered together on her first day, everyone a stranger, the sounds of the twister angrily tugging at the school trying to tear it away. While the sounds grew louder and uglier, they had just waited.

  It felt like that.

  Time was ticking down to something. She remembered when she saw Mazy. Today were try-outs. With all the excitement, she had almost totally forgotten why her bag was heavier than usual. Tommy looked up when she walked into the cafeteria. He was alone so far, eating, and looking right at her. Until that moment, she had not been sure where she would sit. Now she knew; she needed to sit with the girls. She gave him a small smile. He looked a little disappointed.

  She didn’t hear the girls’ chatter through the lunch line.

  “Maggie!” Sarah got her attention. It was only then Mags realized they had made it to the table and were sitting. “Are you nervous?”

  For a moment, she thought her friend was insinuating Maggie was nervous about talking to the police. She opened her mouth, frowning, before it occurred to her that they were all talking about try-outs. “Oh. Yeah.”

  “Don’t be; they aren’t that hard. Not like those quads that compete big time.” Sarah bristled a little at that, but said nothing. “I did fine and I didn’t have anyone giving me extra training,” Mazy told her. If she thought she was hiding her jealousy, she was mistaken. Maggie looked at her drinking her bottled water. Was Mazy jealous enough to put that graffiti on her locker?

  “Of course, I can’t tell you the particulars or anything, and I haven’t made any decisions, but I think you have a good shot from what I’ve seen. Just do your best,” Sarah smiled genuinely.

  “Thanks,” Maggie said flatly.

  “I can’t believe Ashley wants back on the team!” Mazy said dramatically. “I mean, she’s got a lot of experience.”

  “But a bad attitude,” Becca added.

  Sarah nodded. “I’m still giving her a fair chance, but I need someone I can rely on who will get along well with the team…There’s only two more games left, only one official, but the person will keep their spot next year.”

  Maggie stopped listening. She looked over to Tommy’s table. Tyler stood up suddenly, collecting his tray, and hastily left the cafeteria. His brother, Mark, and the others looked on, stunned. Tyler looked mad, like before. Tensions were running high all over the school it seemed.

  Her stomach got queasy as she saw the cops waiting at her locker. They turned, crossing their arms to face her. But they were smiling. People watched.

  Officer Latchley and Officer Cox stepped aside to reveal her locker, clean and shining. “All better, honey.” Latchley clapped her on the shoulder the way Tyler often did.

  “Thanks!” She tried to flash her most dazzling smile. They were already leaving before she made to stop them, to ask if she could talk to them. But just over their shoulders Mark hovered again, glaring. She shut her mouth with a snap and went to her locker. She took a breath, half expecting a flood of harassing notes and crude drawings to fall out; it had happened before, but it did not.

  She replaced her books and stuffed her extra bag inside, but as it brushed the top, she heard a faint crinkle. She slid her hand inside, feeling the surface of the locker. Cold. Cold. Cold. Paper.

  She swallowed hard and pulled the paper out, unfolding it inside her locker. She stuck her head in and peered through the darkness at the almost glowing sheet of notebook paper. Wide-ruled.

  It had no punctuation. Just a few words scrawled in the same handwriting as before.

  Tell the truth. - M

  That was it. But it still sent chills down her spine. She shivered. Was M daring her, or taunting her, or actually asking to be caught? Maybe the guilt was too much.

  She almost balled it in her fist, but thought better of it, securing it in her backpack instead. Now she had something to hand to the police. She was going to tell the truth.

  But first, she had history class. When classes were over, she hurried to change for try-outs, locking her backpack safely away in the gym lockers. She saved her cutest outfit for this day, hair back in a cute ponytail, curly ends to the side, matching sweatbands. She even snuck a little highlighter in her dimples, hoping they’d stand out.

  Time to stretch and warm up. The gym was full of girls preparing, some much more talented than Maggie. For the first time, she began to feel nervous, though maybe it was the culmination of the events of the day. She did not even want to make the team after all. But she also did not like to fail, or make a complete fool out of herself, or lose her new friends. There was a very real possibility of all of these happening. With these jumps, she might literally fall on her ass.

  They were asked to leave. There was more waiting in the hallway as they were called in one by one. More waiting.

  Ashley was first. Maggie forced herself to breathe evenly, clearing her mind. Smile, she told herself. Dimples, dimples, dimples. She checked her ponytail. Ashley came out smiling.

  Beth was next.

  Sharp, clean movements, she recited mentally. Positive attitude. Project your voice. She cleared her throat, did breathing exercises, got water. Beth came out looking upset.

  Cassie’s turn. Cassie’s best friend wished her luck. Maggie’s friends were all inside. At least they were her friends for now. She bounced her legs anxiously.

  Cassie was done and it was her best friend Lily’s turn.

  Maggie was last, so she waited until she was alone, wondering if anyone would ever call her name. Legs back and high, she reminded herself, chanting cheers over and over in her head. Arms stiff, straight. It will be fine. It will be over soon.

  Maggie.

  Finally. She jumped off the bench and hurried in before she even thought of what she was doing. She stood bef
ore a line of cheerleaders, Sarah front and center with her clipboard in hand. They didn’t greet her as usual. This was time for business. Mazy alone looked to be enjoying it. That could not be a good sign. Maggie smiled harder, trying to imagine just to spite them, shoving her tongue down Tommy’s throat.

  “Can you do a split or backbend or something to show your flexibility?” Maggie gave an enthusiastic nod and did a split. Sarah seemed pleased. That was really the best she had to offer.

  “Great. Can you show us a jump or two?”

  That was not so bad. This was exactly what she and Becca had practiced. She didn’t get enough height the first time, so she did a second jump. Then, as Sarah began to scribble, she did a toe touch. She felt a thrill at the little tap her fingers made on the ends of her sneakers, but the thud as she hit the floor with her full weight was loud. It echoed in the silent gym. She struggled to keep her smile. She had to picture Tommy’s shirtless reflection in the china cabinet glass.

  “What about tumbling? Can you do a cartwheel or roll or anything?” Maggie opened her mouth, then shut it. Becca’s face was unreadable. Apparently, she did not feel as stringent about the rules of not revealing too much as Sarah did. She had prepared Maggie exactly for the try-outs, every part in the exact order, every day.

  With her biggest smile pasted tightly across her face, Maggie cartwheeled perfectly, then did a messy round-off. Catching herself caused her smile to falter and turn into a look of panic just as she was facing the team. Despite her fumble, she rolled forward and stood, arms out wide. She grinned like the idiotic monkey she must have looked like as the team remained silent before her. She could actually hear Sarah check another box.

  “Can you remember any cheer we learned?” Maggie nodded. “Then, uh, go ahead.” Of course, she wanted to kick herself.

  Her feet nearly obliged as she bent forward to pick up the pom-poms from the ground. She was clumsier than usual, so she tried to make up for it with volume. At least if she was going down, people would hear her death cries from the parking lot.

  “Okay, thanks. Just one more thing. I’m going to play the music. Do what you can of the routine.” She should have seen it coming, but she almost threw down her pom-poms and stormed out of the gym with what was left of her dignity.