It took her longer than it would have taken Becca or Tommy to make it back to the school. When they entered the gym, it was 5:50. Sarah sucked her teeth while looking around, making a tut tut tut sound. A nervous habit, Maggie realized. She had never seen Sarah nervous before.
“He’ll be back,” she assured her friend as if it were the most certain thing in the world.
The squad began to show at 6 promptly, distracting themselves with stretches and warmups and hydrating. But even Sarah’s eyes kept darting toward the road.
“He’ll be back,” she told the squad as she caught them following her gaze.
Then the bus of the other team pulled into the parking lot. No one bothered to watch them file inside. The ticket entrance went up. Hot grease and ovens burned in the concession stand. The band began to make its way out, warming up with shrill toots. The team was inside, doing whatever the team did before a game— or not doing it, because gates opened at 6:30 and Mark still was not back.
The coach, who Maggie had only noticed once before because he had been shouting at the last game, was a brilliant plum color. The cheer team was pale.
“Boy, he is going to let Mark have it when he gets back,” Sarah laughed to the team as the stands began to fill. 6:43. Still no sign of Mark. They nodded. Maggie should have been nervous about cheering, but she couldn’t be. She was too nervous about something else.
The coaches talked on the field. Maggie’s nose twitched animatedly. 6:50. Mark might not be coming back for the game. Maybe he confessed.
Sarah’s certainty was gone. “We can’t let people know something is wrong.” They nodded, getting into place.
“Maggie!” someone hissed. “Maggie!” She turned around to see her mom waving excitedly from behind the benches.
Smiling in earnest, Maggie hurried over. “Hey! You made it!”
“I can’t believe it. You look like a real cheerleader! Well, you are a real cheerleader, huh?”
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
“Well, you look cute, and your cheer friends certainly seem nice, so break a leg.” She winked.
Maggie felt a silly jolt of terror. “No! Mom, that’s a theater thing. You don’t want to break a leg here. Legs actually break in cheer.”
“Oh crap. Sorry. Good luck! I’ll be eating cheese sticks in the stands.” She pointed behind her and disappeared.
If Tommy were there, he would have probably offered for her mom to sit with him. That was the nice thing to do anyway. But she had not seen Tommy.
The girls screamed at the top of their lungs, or technically the bottom, as the team ran onto the field through the banner. Well, most of the team. The crowd stood on their signal. It was sort of a rush. The team then sat at the bench, Maggie searching among them for the biggest. She didn’t need to—they left Mark’s space open.
Time for the coin flip. There was a flitter of silver in the air, followed by a shake of hands. Just then, the field erupted into cheering. Mark hustled out in his pads, helmet, and jersey. Green and white shining under the bright lights. Becca was at his side. The entire squad breathed a sigh of relief, but there was no time to harass her with questions. The drum line was up, reverberating through the crowd. The boys took the field.
When they said fight, the stands screamed win.
Fight. Win.
When they shouted in unison “Wilbur,” the crowd chanted “Mason.”
Wilbur. Mason.
And while it may have been the same silly mantra of decades, there was something fun about leading them. It was like she had a magic wand. Not that she would ever say that to anyone standing near her.
Even with her lack of knowledge of football and her mind trained on not tripping or forgetting the fairly simple words to her cheer, Maggie could tell they weren’t doing well. Mark was off. “What’s wrong with you?” his coach asked. Mark shook his sweaty head.
“Hydrate,” Sarah told them yet again.
It was a lot more work than she expected, but the burn of it felt good, especially the hot sweat peeking through in the cool, night air. They taught her how to help catch Mazy, bending under her weight to break the fall. Physics, actually, Mags noted.
Fouls were called. Angry voices and hard hits rang off the field behind Maggie’s head more than once. Normally easygoing Tyler was asked to sit out for the remainder of the half. They just couldn’t get through the other team’s massive wall of defense to score, and getting frustrated and less organized was only hurting them.
The girls smiled bigger, cheered more. The band played a segment to get them pumped. The other team had not scored too much either. They could catch up still.
The first half seemed to go by quickly, either because they were busy actually cheering or because Maggie was dreading the part where everyone would actually be watching them. Mazy was right about no one noticing if they messed up. Who would know? But now came the halftime routine. All eyes on them while the team took a breath. She knew when they took the field, people would point and whisper: “There’s the new girl. Wonder if she knows what she’s doing?” It was only to last a few moments, she reminded herself, marching band having their own thing. They were quite good, Maggie noted.
The boys were heading towards them, kicking the ground, shaking their heads in disappointment. Sarah yelled encouragement at them, Mark in particular, Maggie thought.
Maggie took a deep, steadying breath as the team came off the field and she followed her friends out onto the green expanse, under the lights. Faces of the crowd disappeared. They were just a shadow and a roar. Everyone tumbled out, Maggie doing a cartwheel. It was like getting into cold water, she felt, best to dive in. Still, her lip trembled. She fought the embarrassment eye-watering with her new smile technique, trying to think of her mom in the stands and not Mark’s eyes as he was taken out of his uncle Jake’s. She tried to think of Tommy and her falling down the ledge into the mud in a wet heap, laughing until her sides hurt. She tried to block out the image of Tommy leaving the gym.
While at first catching Mazy made her nervous, it was actually easy so long as everyone did what they were supposed to do. People seemed to enjoy their routine to a popular song. While she felt silly doing it, she knew from watching the others that it looked good when everyone did it at once.
Trumpets sounded excitedly as she made her way to the sidelines, relieved and beaming, to ‘hydrate’ again. Tommy stood there, hands in pockets, wind pressing his hoodie against his frame, ruffling his hair. He squinted. When she approached him, he spoke first. “Did you know already?” he asked, his eyes smoldering but hurt.
“No.” She shook her head. “Did you see my face? I was more shocked than you were.”
He snorted. “Yeah. True.” They exchanged shy glances, friendly once more, before they were interrupted by Maggie’s mom fumbling her way over.
“Hey, Mags!” She bounced as she spoke, breath coming out in puffs. “Looking good out there.”
“Thanks. Mom, this is Tommy.”
“Hi Tommy.” She shook his hand with her gloved one.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Brennan.”
“Maggie! Get over here!” Mazy hissed in warning with a wave and nod towards Sarah who was stretching, readying for the next cheer.
“Gotta go!” She tried to wriggle her way between the bodies, feeling like a kid. “Excuse me. ‘Scuse me.”
She felt the grass under her before she even registered the heavy impact. She was aware of being in the air a moment before that, but did not register why. Her shoulder hurt. Her hair was flung askew. But worse, there was a gasp from the crowd.
Instantly, there were hands on her, big hands from giant green men reaching down for her. She jerked away at first, instinctively. But two arms slid gently underneath hers and pulled her upright. They were helping her. “Got you,” Tyler’s voice said behind her.
She blinked several times very quickly, fighting tears. Whether they were from pain or humiliation, she could not know. She wasn’t even su
re what had happened. The cheerleaders were standing by her. “Are you okay?” Mazy asked.
Mags nodded. She was about to ask what had happened when it became abundantly clear. Tommy’s form shot into view, outstretched arms colliding at full force with the padded chest of a massive player. A player in green. Mark. He stumbled back from the blow. Tommy stared him down. The ground hummed, “Oh!” Mark yanked off his helmet.
“It was an accident!” Mark shouted. “I’m sorry.” He barely glanced at Maggie, spitting the words on the ground.
“Stay away from her,” Tommy warned, head low and voice barely audible.
“Oh,” Mark laughed, taking a step forward. Tyler maneuvered around Mags, murmuring an excuse me. “Why? That your new girlfriend? That was fast.”
Tyler stopped Tommy, saying something quietly in his brother’s ear.
But Mark wasn’t finished. “Is she a replacement or would you have been cheating with her?”
Tommy pushed forward with a snarl. “She’s not my girlfriend!” he shouted.
Maggie knew that. She did. And now everyone knew it. It still wasn’t something she wanted shouted at her. She felt the girls eyeing her, so she refused to react.
“Lucky her. Look how you treat your girlfriends,” Mark sneered.
“Reynolds!’ Coach called.
“Yes, sir?” Mark answered without taking his eyes off Tommy.
“If you want to stay on this team, get on it. Time to play football.”
Mark put his helmet back on with a sneer, slapping the white painted W. “Time to play football, Tommy-boy. Get off the field.”
“Tommy.” Tyler’s voice was gentle. Whatever it meant to his brother was unknown to the rest of the world. But it must have meant something. Tommy’s face smoothed over, his eyes distant. He relaxed and walked away.
Becca was right. Cheering meant smiling even if she just got her romantic hopes crushed in front of a crowd. How had Becca known? Had it happened to her too, or did she see it coming?
They lost the game. There would be no party. It was usually at Mark’s but his plans, they presumed, were changed given the circumstances. Everyone collected their stuff and changed their clothes, disappointed, going home for the weekend.
“Have a good weekend.”
“See you Monday.”
These were grumbled more than said. Becca had vanished, but Maggie met her mom our front. Cassidy Brennan was still excited, chatting about the game nonstop on the way home. Maggie nodded and smiled where she could.
“I have to go in tomorrow,” her mom explained.
Maggie again just nodded, unsurprised. Something about a person she had to follow.
Mags went to bed almost as soon as they got in. She did not turn on the lights in her room. When the door clicked shut behind her, she exhaled. In the dark, she changed into her most comfortable clothes. Her mind still buzzed with the lights and noise. The silent bedroom was too quiet to fall asleep at first. She tried not think about Mark, what he may have said to Becca. She tried not to think of Tommy angrily denying there was anything going on between them. She tried not to think of anything. At least she had one weekend of peace before she watched everything fall apart. Mags just listened to the sound of her own breathing until the darkness swallowed her.
Chapter Eighteen
The Darkness Catches Up
Saturday, there was a knock at the door. Maggie opened it to see Tommy Latchley on her doorstep midmorning.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted at once. Strangely, it did not make her feel any better.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
She just folded her arms. What was the point? Soon it would come out that she was the one who told on Mark, and she would lose her friends. Him included. Maybe it was easier this way.
“Margaret, I know I was a jerk. I told you I wasn’t always nice. I warned you. You were just trying to do the right thing and support Becca. I was being selfish.” He shook his head in disappointment with himself. It was hard to be angry with him then. She tried. She really tried. He was looking at his shoes, only once daring a glance at her.
Giving up, Maggie leaned on her doorframe. She did not even care that she was wearing a robe and her hair was in a messy, falling bun. There was silence for a moment before she managed, “I’ll quit if you want me to.”
“What?” He sounded truly stunned.
“I don’t care anything about stupid cheering. It’s not even a sport, it’s just a verb.” She rolled her eyes.
“No, no, no. Don’t quit something you worked hard for, something your friends are depending on you for just because it’s awkward for me.” He put up one hand. “I never should have discouraged you and made you feel conflicted.” He looked upwards to the sky that was almost evenly dotted with fat tufts of grey.
She pushed herself from the doorframe and opened the door wider. Eyebrows up to silently ask if she was sure, Tommy waited for her nod before entering the house. He glanced around, hands in pockets again.
“It doesn’t really matter anymore anyway.” She shut the door behind them. “I’m not going to be on the team much longer.”
“Why?” he asked, taking a seat at the kitchen window seat. She sat too, sighing in frustration.
“The girls aren’t going to want me on the team anymore.”
“Why?”
“Well,” she took a deep breath. Might as well get it over with. “You probably heard about them hauling Mark down to the station.”
He nodded.
“It isn’t going to take them long to figure out why. I had just talked to the police that day.”
He opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again. “What did you tell them?” His brow was furrowed, but he didn’t sound angry. He looked like he was struggling with a particularly hard math problem.
“I gave them the second note.”
“What did it say?” he asked yet again, by this time breathless.
“‘Tell the truth.’ So I did. I told them it was in my locker after it was vandalized on the same paper as the first one I lost. They asked me when and where I lost it. I told them the truth: during my date with Mark, no idea when. They had already asked me why I hadn’t listed Mark among the friends I made. I told them I didn’t know anything else, I didn’t think he was guilty, but they were the ones focusing on it,” she practically pleaded for him to understand.
After a moment, his chin resting on his hand, he nodded. “They just had to follow up with him is all. If Mark knew something he wasn’t telling, it was his fault. All you did was give them the note. It’s them that wanted to ask Mark about it. You don’t know everything they have heard.”
She did not think it was possible until that moment, but she actually felt better. In a rush, she blurted, “What did you tell them?”
He shook his head, not looking her in the eyes. “They didn’t talk to me.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve already told them everything I know.” He exhaled roughly, fiddling with the napkins on the bar countertop. “Look, Margaret, can I tell the truth now? Even if it’s very not nice?”
“Sure,” she said weakly. She was not ready for bad news on a Saturday to be honest, but if Tommy needed to talk, she would listen. He smiled at her, his eyes glimmering more than usual.
“I don’t want to talk about Amanda anymore.” She felt a pang of guilt at the surge of joy that brought her. “And I don’t want to feel guilty about it either.”
“Fair enough,” she agreed, trying not to sound enthusiastic.
“Want to go do something?” he asked.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Uh, sure.”
He laughed. “Okay. I’ll wait for you to get dressed. Just whatever is comfortable.”
“Then I’m dressed,” she joked, heading to her room anyway.
“I think you look cute.” She thought her stomach may have hit the cold, wooden floor where her feet were. Did he actually just say that? Had she stopped walking when he did? Wa
y to make it awkward, Mags.
“You know,” she half-turned in her doorway, not quite brave enough to face him directly. “I’m not sure why I even bother going in here, as many times as you’ve seen me change.” He chuckled a little at that, possibly blushing, she noticed. She couldn’t contain her grin, so she disappeared inside her bedroom.
When she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t believe how excited she looked. How quickly things had changed!
She tried to pick things that would be comfortable but attractive, choosing some well-fitting jeans and sneakers with a sweater that was a good color on her. She ran a brush through her hair, wondering if it would seem weird if she brushed her teeth. She risked it. After all, Tommy thought she was cute. He didn’t want to talk about Amanda. You never knew what could happen.
Mulberry Street disappeared behind her. She watched the fat trees on the sidewalk reaching for the opposite side of the road in the side view mirror as Tommy’s not-so-white-anymore truck chug-a-chug-a-chig-a-ed down toward town.
She vaguely recognized the grocery store from when she and her mom had first arrived, the old post office, elementary school, new library and a few other shops along the hill that was Main Street. They turned down one street she had never been down.
A small park at the end was full of kids, abutting the baseball field and burger stand. The Stand, it was called, was at the bottom of the hill, on a corner, and had a crudely drawn red and white sign. The rickety building was obviously old, but there was a line along the pavement. She caught a whiff of why.
They took a right. An old warehouse, large hardware store, and a bank. She recognized the road plateauing out below them. It led to the mini mall where Jake’s was. Beyond that somewhere laid that fateful haunted highway out of town, towards Mark’s place and the countryside. She felt her stomach tighten, hoping they weren’t going to Jake’s, where she had gone with Mark and had later seen Mark escorted out by police. Jake had probably heard it was her fault by now too.
Keep Your Friends Close Page 24