Harsh Pink with Bonus Content Page 5

  Okay, now I wanted to step back and just get out of the way. What was Jocelyn trying to do anyway? Start a war?

  “Fine!” snapped Kendra. Then she turned on her heel and walked out. Now, part of me was thrilled, but another part was saying, “Watch out!” Because I knew we hadn’t seen the last of our alternate yet.

  And now as I’m giving Jocelyn a ride to tonight’s away game, I warn her to watch her backside too. “Kendra looked pretty furious,” I say. “No telling what that girl might say or do.”

  “Do you think she’ll even be at the game?” asks Jocelyn as she fiddles with the hem of her blue skirt. We’re wearing last year’s uniforms, and other than being a little worn, they’re really not all that bad. However, if I’d been around to see them for a whole season, I might think differently.

  “I don’t know why not.” I check out my reflection in the rear-view mirror as I wait for the traffic light to change. My hair is still sleekly pulled back in a perfect ponytail. But suddenly I’m wondering if that looks too severe. I’m temped to pull the whole thing out except that I probably have a kink in my hair by now.

  “I’ll tell you why not,” says Jocelyn. “Because she’s not in uniform. Her pride won’t be able to bear sitting up in the stands and watching us.”

  I scrutinize the color of my lip gloss now. It looked perfect in the mirror at home, but I’m not so sure anymore. “Maybe she’ll sneak out last year’s uniform and wear it.”

  “Yeah, that’d be pretty funny.” Jocelyn laughs. “Hey, the light’s green, gorgeous. Quit admiring yourself and let’s go.”

  I step on the gas, which makes the tires squeal, and then I feel even sillier. “I wasn’t admiring myself.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I really wasn’t,” I insist. “The truth is, I am having an inferiority meltdown. I’m wishing I’d left my hair down and obsessing over my lip gloss.”

  This really makes Jocelyn laugh. “Well, don’t worry, Reagan. You look totally beautiful. And you know me, I don’t hand out compliments very easily.”

  “Thanks.” I turn and glance at her. “You look great too.”

  “What about that zit on my chin?” She pulls down the visor and examines herself. “Is it showing up?”

  “No,” I say, which is a lie. Despite her attempt to cover it up, I noticed it right away. “But if it starts to show up before the game is over, I have a really great cover stick. You can’t even sweat it off.”

  “Cool. Can I use some now?”

  I gladly hand her my bag. Call me shallow, but because she’s my only friend at the moment, and even if she isn’t a class A, I’d like her to look as good as possible. “It’s in the zipper pocket.”

  By the time we get to the parking lot, Jocelyn’s zit is barely noticeable. But I’m still a bundle of nerves. I tell myself that this is nothing new. I’ve been cheering for years, I’ve been practicing at home, I know all of the routines by heart, I can do this.

  “Nervous?” asks Jocelyn as I lock my car.

  “No,” I lie. Why give in to it? Oh, I suppose if I were with someone like Geneva, I could be more honest, but this is only Jocelyn.

  I can hear the pep band warming up as we walk toward the stadium. It’s been a fairly warm day, but there’s a slight nip in the air and I can smell smoke from what I’m guessing is someone’s leaf fire. It feels like autumn. Other than those few regular die-hard fans, the kind of people who want a certain seat, the stadium is still fairly empty.

  “There are Sally, Meredith, and Falon,” says Jocelyn, waving to the three of them down by the chain-link fence that separates the bleachers from the field.

  “And there are the guys.” I point over to where Chad, Ben, and Jonathan are taping up a big blue and white Go Belmont Cougars! sign.

  “I don’t see Kendra anywhere,” says Jocelyn.

  “That doesn’t mean she won’t come.”

  Soon we’re down on the track with the rest of the cheerleaders, but with the exception of Falon, who is civil, they’re definitely giving Jocelyn and me the chill factor. And when we start doing some casual clapping chants just to warm the crowd up, I can tell that the other girls are trying to squeeze Jocelyn and me to the ends of the line. I catch Jocelyn’s eye and she seems aware of this too. The guys don’t really seem to be in on it, but I can see both Sally and Meredith going out of their way to charm and even flirt with them, almost as if they’re trying to win them over, as if they’re drawing lines now, and Jocelyn and I are supposed to remain on the outside.

  Between cheers, Jocelyn comes over and grabs my arm. “What are we supposed to do about this?”

  I just shrug, smiling in case anyone is watching. “Not much we can do. Just be good sports and keep smiling and cheering. Keep your enthusiasm level up.”

  “Well, it stinks.”

  “I know,” I say, still keeping that smile pasted to my face. Then Falon gives us the command and we are jumping and getting ourselves into place for another cheer. At least we have assigned positions for this choreographed routine, and because Jocelyn and I are the shortest, we’re almost always in the middle. But as soon as the cheer ends and we finish our jumps, we are both jostled back to the edges of the group. Outsiders again. I wonder if Falon even notices. But then she seems so obsessed with keeping everything running smoothly, getting everyone into place, and being ready for the next chant, cheer, or yell that I seriously doubt she has any interest in the juvenile squabbles that may or may not be transpiring here tonight. And when she’s not focused on cheering, she’s got her eyes on her boyfriend. I have to admit that Caleb Winters is good looking, and those two really seem to be into each other. But I wish Falon would intervene for us.

  Finally, I decide to just ignore Kendra’s friends. I mean, really, what does it matter where I stand? At least I’m down here cheering, right? Kendra can’t claim that much. Not yet, anyway. I’m relieved not to spot her in the crowd either. Even so, it feels like she’s here. I sense her presence in her friends and find myself amazed, almost impressed, by the scope of her influence. What kind of a girl can control people’s lives like this?

  We win the game by a touchdown in the last few seconds, and the crowd is ecstatic. Our side anyway. We’re yelling and screaming and hugging and even crying. Of course, the home crowd is crushed and quiet, and their side of the stands quickly thins out. Meanwhile, our side gets more enthusiastic. We do some victory cheers and everyone is in great spirits. For the first time tonight, I feel like I’m actually having fun, like maybe I even belong here.

  And for a few blissful minutes, it seems as if Kendra’s friends have forgotten all about whatever secret pact they’ve made with her. As we’re packing up our pompoms and stuff, though, everything gets frosty again. I see them whispering and giving each other glances, and I can tell they’re making some sort of plan. I suspect it’s for an after-the-game celebration. But it seems quite obvious they don’t plan to include Jocelyn or me. Not that I care so terribly much, because I feel totally exhausted now. Not so much from expending all that physical energy as from the emotional drain of being around people like this — people who seem to wish you weren’t here. That’s hard, and frustrating. I just don’t understand why it has to be like this.

  “Ready?” I ask Jocelyn, still keeping my plastic smile glued to my face. No way do I want those girls to see how much this hurts.

  “Yeah, I guess.” She tosses a longing glance over to where the others are huddled together so exclusively. I know she can feel it too. But I refuse to acknowledge it. I’d rather pretend that I haven’t noticed, act like I don’t care. No big deal.

  “This totally sucks,” mutters Jocelyn as we walk to my car.

  “What?” I continue my act, like I don’t know what’s going on, like I have no feelings.

  “You know what, Reagan!” she shouts at me. “Don’t play dumb.”

  “Shh!” I hiss at her as I hurry across the parking lot. “You don’t have to let the whole world know what
’s going on here.”

  “Like they don’t know anyway. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Maybe … but our best defense is to simply act like we don’t care. If they see us getting all upset, it’s like they’ve won. Don’t you get that?”

  “No!” she snaps. “Frankly, I don’t get it. This is a game I’ve tried not to engage in. It’s a game I can’t stand. I mean, last year there was this girl on JV, Monica, and when she tried to pull stunts like this, I just told her to knock it off.”

  “And she did?” I turn and stare at Jocelyn, surprised that she would have that kind of ability to persuade someone. Maybe I’ve misjudged her.

  “Well, last year, I was head cheerleader. Monica had to knock it off.”

  “You were head cheerleader?”

  “Yeah. Why else do you think I made varsity?”

  “Because you’re good.”

  “Hey, thanks!” She smiles as we throw our duffle bags into the back of my car. “And sorry for being such a grump. But it just ticks me off. It’s like the other cheerleaders are Kendra’s robots or something, like she has this secret remote and she controls every move they make. Well, other than Falon. I don’t think Kendra can control her. And Falon could be helpful, except she’s so obsessed over getting everything perfect. I wish she’d just lighten up and have some fun.”

  “I guess being head cheerleader is a big responsibility,” I say as we get inside. “Although you probably know that, since you did it last year.”

  “Yeah, but just because it’s a big responsibility doesn’t mean it can’t still be fun. I always had fun.” She points over to where the other cheerleaders are getting into cars, laughing and acting like they’re heading off to someplace fun. “So, seriously, Reagan, what do you think they’re up to tonight?”

  I shrug and turn on my engine. “I haven’t a clue.”

  “Hey, we could follow them,” she suggests in a sneaky tone.

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” I pull behind a line of cars waiting to exit the parking lot.

  “You wouldn’t have to let them see us,” she persists.

  “No way! I am not going to follow them. How lame would that be? Honestly, Jocelyn, would you seriously walk into some place where we’re not invited, where we’re not even wanted? Isn’t that a little pathetic?”

  She slumps in the seat. “Yeah, I guess.”

  I sigh. “Good.”

  “But we could just follow them to see where they’re going, Reagan. We wouldn’t have to go inside. Honestly, aren’t you just a little bit curious?”

  I consider this. “Yeah, maybe a little.”

  “Pull over onto this side street,” she commands, pointing to the right. And like an idiot, I do it.

  “Now, do a U-turn and just wait until we see their cars.” So I do that, then we sit there and wait until several familiar cars exit the parking lot. Fortunately, no one notices my red Toyota as they honk their horns, yell out windows, and whiz past the side street like they think they’re in a parade. Then I pull out and follow about a block behind them. They’re heading back to our side of town, and when we’re nearly there, they turn down a tree-lined country lane and then make another right-hand turn. Like an idiot, I turn too. That’s when I realize I’ve turned onto a private road that goes into a gated community. Now I am stuck in a line of cars waiting to get through the security gates.

  “Aha,” says Jocelyn. “So this is what’s going on.”

  “What?”

  “Aspen Reserve.” She reads the fancy brass letters on the large sign.

  “Yes,” I tell her. “I am perfectly capable of reading too. But we can’t go in there … not without a password.” I let out a groan as one car passes through the gates. Why did I listen to Jocelyn? Now somehow I’ll have to turn around up at the gate. With everyone watching I will get to make a complete spectacle of myself. Just great.

  “Aspen Reserve is the most expensive development in town,” she tells me. “And the only person I know who lives here is Kendra Farnsworth. Her dad developed this whole place and owns at least half of it. Kendra gets to use the clubhouse whenever she likes for parties or whatever. And it’s awesome. There’s this huge swimming pool and game room and even a bar, which she’ll probably have stocked.”

  “How do you know all this?” I pull up another car length, wondering whether I’ll even be able to turn around in the turnout up ahead. This is so humiliating.

  “Because Kendra always hosts the annual cheerleaders’ barbecue in the spring. She invites all the cheerleaders and their dates, kind of as a way to end the year, ya know.” Jocelyn sighs. “It was so fun last year. She also had the annual fall barbecue here last year, but that one is only for varsity. Or maybe she had that one at her house, since it wasn’t as huge. I wouldn’t know since I couldn’t go to that one, but I heard it was spectacular.”

  I put my car into reverse, hoping I can back up a little and maybe actually turn around, but the car directly behind me is not budging, plus they’re honking like they think I’m going to run into them. And maybe I should. I keep on going, backing up a few inches, as in, hint hint. But then they just honk again, louder and longer. So I stick my head out the window. “Excuse me,” I call out to the black pickup. “I need to back up, please!”

  To my surprise, fellow cheerleader Jonathan sticks his head out and yells, “Why?” Now, of the three cheerleader guys, Jonathan has been the nicest to me and I get the impression he’s a pretty thoughtful guy. But what am I supposed to tell him? I glance at Jocelyn like I think she can help me out here. And to my surprise she jumps out of the car and runs around and starts talking to Jonathan. I watch her from my side mirror as she stands on tiptoe and leans into his window. I can hear her telling him how we weren’t actually invited and then saying something like we sort of misunderstood and came anyway, and who knows what else she’s saying, although it sounds lame to me and I just wish she’d come back so I could leave. I think I might have enough room to turn around now.

  “That’s total bull,” Jonathan yells loudly. He sticks his hand out the window and points at the gates. “Of course you guys are invited! It’s a victory party and all the cheerleaders are invited. Go ahead, go on in!”

  “But I don’t know the code,” I call back.

  Then he says something to Jocelyn and she comes bounding back and hops in the car. “Let’s go, Reagan!”

  Now the cars ahead of me have already moved through the gates, and I realize I have a decision to make. I could get away now if I wanted to. “But we’re not invited, Jocelyn.”

  “Yes, we are!” she shouts. “Jonathan invited us!”

  I consider this as the cars behind start honking again. “Okay,” I tell her, pulling forward. “We’re going in!”

  “Oh, this is going to be fun,” she says as she literally rubs her hands together. “I can’t wait to see Kendra’s face.”

  “What if she throws us out?”

  “She wouldn’t dare. Not if we go in with Jonathan, one on each arm. She’d look like a total jerk if she turned us away, and everyone would see it. She’s got to let us in, Reagan.”

  Okay, I have to admit that I admire this girl’s spunk. She may be a year younger, but she’s got some smarts. In some ways she reminds me of Geneva. I might even move her up from class B to class A. Okay, A-minus. But it’s a start.

  six

  JOCELYN DIRECTS ME TO THE DUBHOUSE, WHICH IS PRETTY EASY TO FIND SINCE it’s all lit up and we can hear music blasting from it even though my car windows are up. We park and wait for Jonathan’s pickup, which I discover has all three cheerleader guys in it. I’m pleasantly surprised to learn they’re feeling indignant that Jocelyn and I weren’t invited to the celebration. So instead of crashing the party with only Jonathan, we are escorted in by all three and consequently make a pretty grand entrance, if I do say so myself.

  I spot Kendra as soon as we’re in the door. It’s easy, since her hot pink sweater stands out amid the sea of royal blue and wh
ite. But I can tell by the glint in her eyes that she is not pleased. Not at all. Even so, you’d never know this by the expression on the rest of her face. Like me, she’s good at forcing a smile, putting up a good front. Still, it’s a little unsettling when she moves through the crowd straight to us. I actually wonder if she might really be about to throw us out. Oh, I’m sure she’d do it gracefully and with poise. She wouldn’t want to look bad in front of everyone. It occurs to me that she probably has the right to throw us out. I mean, we really weren’t invited. Suddenly I want to leave. What was I thinking?

  “I’m so glad you guys made it,” she says with false warmth as she joins us. “Reagan and Jocelyn.” Her words sound gracious and she smiles, exposing perfectly aligned and whitened teeth. “I heard you two had turned up your noses, that you planned to snub my little soiree.”

  I am speechless and Jocelyn barely opens her mouth before Jonathan jumps in. “Don’t you mean you heard that no one invited them?” he says.

  “Of course they were invited,” she says lightly, slipping an arm around Jonathan and giving him a squeeze. “This is a victory celebration! All the cheerleaders were invited.”

  “Then what made you think they didn’t want to come?” persists Ben.

  Kendra laughs, then puts a carefully manicured finger over her perfectly glossed lips. “Maybe it’s because they heard there would be more than just soda and punch served tonight.” She looks directly at me now. “Isn’t that true, Reagan? You and Jocelyn are opposed to drinking, right?”

  Okay, this is actually true about me, although I haven’t told a soul this. Not even Jocelyn. I turn to look at my new friend, curious as to whether this is news to her. I also remember the cheerleading contract we all signed (well, everyone except Kendra). But Jocelyn just looks Kendra in the eyes, then grins. “Hey, I have no idea where you heard that, Kendra, but it’s a big, fat lie. So, anyway, where’s the beer?”

  Everyone laughs and Kendra’s blue eyes widen as if she’s surprised, but she points Jocelyn over to the bar, where several cheerleaders are already drinking from cups topped with foam. “The keg’s right there, sweetie. Help yourself.” Then she turns to me. “How about you, Reagan, do you want to drink?”