I Was a Non-Blonde Cheerleader (19 page)

“We are so snagged,” Mindy replied, looking green.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come to school today,” Autumn put in, her hundreds of silver bangles jangling as she rubbed her temples. “I did a tarot reading last night and it predicted death, destruction and heartache.”

“Death and destruction?” I said. “Come on. It’s just a prank war.”

“That’s just it! Using the word
war
is bad karma!” Autumn exclaimed. “Couldn’t we have called it a prank fest?”

We joined the waves of people streaming out the back doors of the school, and made our way to the visiting bleachers. The back of the stands faced the school, and as we came around front to take the stairs, we noticed everyone was staring toward the end zone and the scoreboard.

“Oh . . . my . . . God,” Sage said, stopping in her tracks a few people ahead of us.

I followed her gaze and my jaw dropped. It looked as if
someone had smashed a picket fence to death all over the end zone. Shards of plywood and splintered boards lay everywhere, covering the blue
SDH.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s the Fighting Crab,” Mindy said behind me. “They killed the Fighting Crab.”

“Death. Destruction. Heartache,” Autumn put in, her voice like a funeral dirge.

We slid into an empty row of seats in front of the seniors and juniors from the squad. Tara was quietly seething, her now bruiseless face turning purple with rage. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the scoreboard. Where the huge fighting crab used to stand, its clippers raised high, there was nothing but two bare beams—the beams that used to hold him up against the clear blue sky. I eyed the pieces on the ground and was able to pick out half a claw, one big eye, and the
D
from the
SDH
jersey the crab once wore.

It was so very sad.

“I can’t believe they did this,” Whitney said.

“It’s so . . . violent,” Felice put in.

“So what if we stole their mascot? It’s not like we were never going to give it back,” Chandra said.

“Actually, we weren’t planning on it,” Whitney told her.

“Okay, but still. They didn’t have to slaughter the crab.”

“Yeah, there’s some monster line-crossing going on here,” Jaimee put in.

“What do we do now?” Chandra asked. “We can’t let them get away with this.”

“Bobby and I have a few ideas,” Tara said, breaking her silence.

A murmur ran through the crowd, snapping us to attention.

“Buzzkill approaches,” Karianna said, lifting her chin toward the field.

Principal Buzzkill had apparently shopped for School Colors Day in the throwback aisle. He was sporting a light blue suit with a white shirt and a light yellow tie with light blue dots. And he actually had the nerve to try to look serious in that outfit.

“Can I have your attention, please?” he called out. He was
loud
—even without a microphone. The entire student body fell instantly silent.

Okay, so maybe he
could
pull off serious in that outfit.

“That Fighting Crab was constructed by the class of 1985 as their graduating gift to this school,” Principal Buzzkill said, pointing toward the end zone. “That crab predated your births. It was a symbol of this school’s strength, of its spirit, of its tradition. Look at it now.”

Hundreds of heads turned to look at the remnants of the Fighting Crab.

“Thanks to this ridiculous prank war, our mascot has been obliterated,” Principal Buzzkill continued. “That crab survived hurricanes and tropical storms for twenty years, and now it’s gone forever. I don’t know how this travesty sits with the rest of you, but I, for one, feel sick.”

My stomach turned, poisoned by a sensation that felt a lot like guilt. I could just imagine those poor kids from the class of ‘85, working their little Duran Duran–loving tails off on that crab, celebrating with a
Miami Vice
party when it was finished. What would they think if they came back to visit the school and saw the fallen crab?

But still, it wasn’t like
we’d
destroyed the little guy. Those idiots from West Wind had done it. It wasn’t our fault.

Except for the fact that you started the prank war
, my little
angel whispered to me.
You, you, you, you, you.
Wait a minute. Were angels even allowed to taunt people?

“I thought I had made myself clear when I told certain members of the football team and cheerleading squad to cease and desist, but apparently I did not,” Principal Buzzkill continued. “So I’ve decided to take my message to the entire student body. Now, I want all of you to listen up and listen good. This prank war ends now.”

“Whatever,” Tara said, shifting in her seat behind me. I saw Bobby and Christopher exchange a look a few rows ahead to my left.
“Yeah, okay, dude,”
Bobby mouthed, then laughed.

“If I hear that anything else has happened at West Wind High, I will have no choice but to forfeit this Saturday’s game.”

A collective gasp went up over the bleachers. My heart dropped. Forfeit!? To West Wind? This guy
was
a buzzkill!

“He wouldn’t,” Tara said.

“Believe me when I say that I will not hesitate to do this,” Principal Buzzkill continued. “And for those of you who are unclear on what a forfeit means, if we forfeit, we lose. We lose the rivalry game to West Wind High because whoever is committing these pranks refused to take the high road.”

He paused and scanned the crowd ever so slowly, seeming to make eye contact with every last student. When his gaze fell on me and the rest of the squad, I could feel the high-beam burn on my face. I looked away guiltily and he moved on.

“You’re dismissed,” he said finally. “Return to first period.”

“I can’t believe this,” Whitney ranted as we headed back toward the school in a pack. “He wouldn’t actually forfeit, would he?”

“I don’t know. I believed him,” Mindy replied, hugging her notebooks to her chest.

“But they killed the crab! How can we not retaliate after they killed the crab?” Chandra wailed, her eyes wide.

“You guys, maybe it’s all for the best,” Tara said.

She was met with stunned silence. Tara Timothy was throwing in the towel? Little Miss Never Say Die? How could she say this was for the best?

“What?” she replied to our confusion. “This will give us more time to practice for regionals. And we need practice. Believe me.”

Mindy and I looked at each other, knowing she was talking about us. I couldn’t argue her point, however. The routine was complex and everyone else had had months to perfect it. Mindy and I were way behind.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was kind of a relief to be released from prank-war duty. Now I would also have time to study for the geometry test that was rapidly approaching and catch up in the rest of my classes. Tara was right. Buzzkill’s ultimatum was actually a blessing in disguise.

“So, Annisa!” Sage piped up, walking up from the back of the crowd to fall into step with me. “Can I bring anything tomorrow night?”

Once I got over the shock that Sage was actually daring to talk to me, I was able to focus on my bafflement over what she had said.

“Bring anything where?” I asked as we filed back into the school.

“You know. To the big party!” Sage replied, laughing like we were old friends in on some personal joke together. God! Can you say
split personalities
?

I stopped in the middle of the hallway, a skittering sense of foreboding running all over my body. Some of the cheerleaders kept moving, but a few of them hovered around to watch the conversation unfold.

“What big party?” I asked.

“Gabe’s big party?” she said, rolling her eyes as if I was some previously unclassified breed of doofus.

“
Gabe
is having a
party
?!” I blurted.

“Wow. You guys really need to work on your communication skills,” Sage said, shaking her head. “
Everyone
knows about the party.”

Then she walked off, the rest of the squad minus Autumn and Mindy following her. I heard Sage reciting the details all the way down the hall while the others grabbed pens and scratched them into their notebooks.

“Did you guys know my brother was having a party?” I asked, still stunned.

“Sage called me about it last night,” Mindy said, biting her lip.

“I already got my mom to lend me her punch bowl,” Autumn put in. “Though if I get another negative reading, I’m definitely staying home this time.”

I followed them down the hall, my mind reeling. I couldn’t believe this. Gabe had
promised
he wouldn’t have a party. What was
wrong
with him? The kid needed to join Partyers Anonymous. And where did he get off inviting people from my school? Didn’t he have friends of his own?

Some guy I recognized from the meeting the night before grinned at me as I rounded the corner. “Hey, new girl! See
you at the party tomorrow night!” he called out. He and his friends slapped hands as they walked on.

My nostrils flared to twice their normal size. I was going to have to lock my brother in a closet somewhere. There was no way in hell I was going to let him throw a party at
my
house tomorrow night. It was time for me to put my size five and a half foot down.

“Omigod! You’re Annisa, right? Are you Annisa!?”

I was flattened up against the wall by four freshman cheerleaders wearing matching yellow shirts and blue shorts. There was enough bubbliness among them to pop a champagne cork.

“Yeah . . . ,” I said, fearing for my life.

“Omigod! We heard about your party? And we were wondering? Do you think we could come? I mean, are they going to let freshmen in? Because, we’re cheerleaders, you know? Do you think we could get in because we’re cheerleaders?”

Each one of them had at least one sentence in this verbal diarrhea, but they were so fast, I could never focus on who, exactly, was speaking.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” I said, wondering who the “they” were that might keep these poor girls out of my house.

They all squealed and one of them hugged me harder than I’d ever been hugged before. I had to laugh. Maybe this party wasn’t the worst idea. I mean, if it could make people
that
happy . . . Plus, random students had been talking to me all day in the halls—people I’d never spoken to before. It was like I was famous. And not because I had appeared on the school paper with my skirt up.

“Hey, Jersey.”

Heart thump.

“Daniel!” I said, turning to face him. He was looking much more chipper than he had the night before.

“So, I heard about this party your brother’s throwing,” he said. “Pretty cool.”

“Yeah. I guess,” I replied.

“You know, nothing interesting ever happened around here until you came along,” he said with a grin.

I felt a rush of euphoria throughout my body. Had anyone ever said anything so totally perfect?

“Well, I gotta get to practice. See you later,” he said.

He was gone before I could recover my voice. Okay, so maybe my brother had actually done me a huge favor with this party thing. Maybe it was going to be the most monumental night of my life. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around, all smiles, expecting more accolades and appreciation for my hosting of the social event of the year. Instead, I was met with the hard-as-steel eyes of Bethany Goow.

“Thanks for inviting me to your little party,” she said.

“It’s not my—”

“God! Will you stop at nothing to make them like you?” she blurted, stuffing her hands under her arms.

What? I was no foot-kissing ingratiator! I was a revolutionary, remember?

“Okay, wait a second,” I said indignantly. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Oh, really? Sure looks that way to me,” Bethany said. “Suddenly all you care about is hanging out with
them
, sitting at assemblies with
them
, running all over town like a lemming with
them.
”

“Bethany, I made a commitment to the team when I tried out,” I said, trying to remain patient. “Being on a competition squad takes a lot of work.”

“Oh, right. And I’m sure spending every waking hour
working on a prank war is right at the top of the squad’s official responsibilities,” she shot back.