So I'm a Double Threat (Double Threat Series) (8 page)

Damn, maybe I forgot about Eric too soon? Hmm...I’m going to have to check him out in English on Monday. Since we have English sixth period, if things go well, I can talk to him after school as well. Maybe a little hook-up will take my mind off Alex and Amy.

And Ben, too. What the hell is going on with him anyway?

I must’ve been daydreaming for quite a long time, because when Amy comes into my room, I realize I missed the whole movie. I remember watching the beginning and that’s about it. I probably wouldn’t have noticed the credits rolling if Amy hadn’t shown up.

What the heck is
she
doing here?

“So what’s up, Amy?” Keesha glares at her. “Your calendar wasn’t all booked up this weekend?”

Keesha can be rude sometimes, but Amy deserves it. I can’t remember the last weekend we were all together. Oh wait...yes I can...it was when Alex and Amy hooked up for the first time. Wow. It seems like eons ago.

Amy just plops on my bed next to Steph. “So what are you guys doin’ tonight?” She’s acting as if nothing has changed.

“This is it.” I throw my hands into the air. “Don’t faint or anything with all this excitement, okay?”

I’m trying to be funny to break the ice, but I don’t think it’s working. They all just stare at me.

“Yeah, we’re just going to hang out, watch movies, eat, that’s about it.” Steph gives her the run-down.

“Sounds good,” Amy mutters. She then asks, hesitantly, “Mind if I stay?”

Keesh, Steph, and I look at each other surprised, before Keesha says, “Go for it; knock yourself out.”

We all just look at each other again, unsure what we’re going to do or say next. I take out my storage totes with nail polish, files, clippers—all the mani-pedi essentials. I begin by swabbing away the polish from my toes, smearing black paint on my skin. The others begin pillaging through the boxes. Keesha takes out some cotton balls to use with the nail polish remover. Amy takes out some bright blue nail polish. Steph grabs a nail file before walking over to my stereo.

Soon, all I hear is the familiar set of
America’s Top 40
coming from my stereo. I love listening to
KIIS
at night. JoJo is freakin’ hilarious.

“Girls, listen, listen...JoJo is going to do the Question of the Night,” I exclaim.

We all stop what we’re doing and listen.

“Tonight, we’re taking callers from people with the most embarrassing doctor’s visit. We want to hear it all. What did you do? What did your doctor do? Who was it embarrassing for? Your doctor or for you? Let’s take our first caller...we’ve got Kim here, calling in from the I.E....tell us your story,” he announces.

“Hi JoJo...well, this one time I was in the patient room waiting for my doctor to come in. When he did, he had a big fat chub showing through his scrubs. I could actually see the shape of his friend in clear detail, I could probably pick it out in a line up,” the caller says.

Oh, my gosh. I would’ve died.

“Damn, girl, what were you being seen for?” Jo Jo jokes.

“Only a cold, but I wonder who he was examining before me.” She chuckles.

“That’s hilarious,” Steph says, as she laughs. Amy and Keesh are laughing too, and nodding their heads.

“That was a good one.” I continue to chuckle. We all go back to our nails, pausing every time JoJo comes on with another story.

“Hey...have you guys ever seen JoJo?” Steph asks.

“Oh, my gosh, yes,” Amy replies, with excitement.

“He is so freakin’ hot,” Keesh says.

“Totally. I wonder how old he is. He looks so young. Too bad he’s not our age,” I add, raising my brow.

“Who cares? He’s damn good to look at,” Keesh responds, with a giggle.

“I wonder what Fat Daniel and Karli are gonna do tonight?” Steph says, as she files away.

“Did you guys hear the one last night?” I ask.

Amy is already laughing, and blurts out, “Yeah, it was freakin’ funny. I wanna take a field trip to UCLA now.”

“What happened? I missed it,” Keesh questions.

“It was a Hump Night.” The girls are staring at me with anticipation. “They went to UCLA and Fat Daniel pulled down his pants to fake hump a statue of a naked lady. What’s even funnier is the statue is...
upside down
.” I pause because I’m giggling so much. “Picture it. Hmm...I’m thinking it probably looked like a number...possibly a sixty-nine...ha ha.”

“So, is your mom still stalking Ryan or what?” Amy asks.

“Pretty much. This morning she was giving me the low down on all the celebrity gossip...because you know, ‘Ryan says,’” I say, mocking my mother. Since Seacrest took over the morning show, my mom has become infatuated with listening. She begins every morning with “Ryan says....” She definitely has a major crush on him. She goes throughout her day talking about Ryan and Ellen, and what they had to say as if they’re her real friends. My dad says it’s like an affair—an
on-air
affair. I doubt my dad has to worry about Ryan whisking Mom away anytime soon.

“Yeah, well the only thing my mom loves more than Seacrest right now, is New Kids on the Block,” Keesh says, rolling her eyes.

“No kidding, my mom’s been going crazy since they came back. I can’t believe our moms camped out like little girls just to get their autographs,” I add.

“I know, that was nuts. How long did they wait? Like over twenty-four hours, right? Your mom invited my mom and she was devastated she couldn’t go. You would’ve thought the world was ending with the way she went on. Then, your mom came back with a picture with what’s his name...” Steph pauses to think.

“Danny.” I fill in the story.

“Yeah, him. She wanted to cry ’cause she didn’t get a pic with the one with the blue eyes. It’s crazy,” Steph snickers, shaking her head. “You know they already have tickets to every concert in the area already?”

Keesh and I nod. Our mothers are lunatics. I don’t think I’d ever go insane over a boy band like they are.

“Wanna know what’s even crazier? My mom created this virtual city on the guy’s website called Dannytown or something. She says all the Danny girls go there and they have official addresses in this make-believe town. They’re nuts. They even made T-shirts for crying out loud.” I can’t believe I just admitted that about my own mother.

“Yeah, I think all the women call their fanaticism Obsessive Compulsive New Kids Disorder.” Steph tries to sound clinical and then bursts out with the giggles. We all pause, look at each other, and bust up laughing.

Amy finally says, “Okay, your moms are psycho. My mom actually downloaded them on her iPod...but I don’t think she has this disorder or whatever.” She chuckles. “They have some pretty good beats though. I like dancing to it.”

Amy’s right, they do have some smooth dancing songs. And if it makes my mom happy, then I guess it’s all good. It’s just a little weird though. And, maybe just a tad bit embarrassing.

Though I have to say, “You know what though? When I’m my mom’s age, I wouldn’t mind my man having a slammin’ body like Danny’s.”

The girls all nod in agreement.

Keesh raises her eyebrows and says, “I know, right?” She walks over to my radio and turns the volume up a notch. I’m on my feet before the first verse of old school
White Lines
begins. Enough with all the crazy talk about our moms, we need to let off some steam.

It’s not long before we’re all up dancing, doing booty bumps, calling each other out.

This is
so
fun.

My girls are all together.

No bullshit.

No guys.

No bitchiness.

Just us.

Together, like old times.

––––––––

D
rill after drill, lap after lap, stretching, sprinting, I thought I’d die before we even get a break. These are tryouts, right? I didn’t realize the goal is to kill the potential athletes before we actually get a chance to play in a game. This is what they call “weeding out” the weak ones.

Kill me now.

Let
me
be a weak one.

Maybe I will get cut. I don’t waste any time showing weakness. The thing I feared most actually happens. When I’m dribbling the ball down field, I trip right over it. There isn’t even anyone around me and down I go. As I’m trying to control the ball, my foot rolls right over it and I flip into a somersault. Could I look any more ridiculous?

High school tryouts aren’t anything like I’ve experienced before. Someone please tell me what squat-thrusts or five thousand sit ups have to do with kicking a ball into a goal? Nothing, I say—not a damn thing. If I even survive until tomorrow’s practice, I may have to reevaluate my decision to take this abuse for an entire season. Maybe I should try out for something more like, the...the golf team. Don’t they get to ride around in a golf cart all day? I doubt Tiger Woods runs bleachers every day to train.

“So what’d you think of the first day?” Keesha asks, without struggle. She’s not breathing hard at all. She didn’t even break a sweat.

“My quads feel like they’re gonna freakin’ explode.” I practically choke on my words. My throat is on fire, and I still haven’t steadied my breath. “That’s what I think.”

“Chill, Meggie, it’ll get better tomorrow.” She laughs and leans over to push me.

Easy for her to say, she dribbles the ball around the field like an angel, graceful and flawless.

“That’s
if
I make it to tomorrow. I doubt if I’ll even be able to freakin’ walk.”

“I told you if we were going to take the fall off, we still needed to condition, but you didn’t listen.”

We decided since it was going to be our first year of high school and we had a lot on our plates, we’d skip the fall season of community soccer. We planned on running every day to stay in shape. Guess who didn’t keep up their end of the bargain? Yup. Me. Keesha ran every day and I...well...I just thought about running, but I never did.

“Yeah, yeah,” I tell her. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Keesh and I finish packing up our soccer crap: shin guards, sweaty socks, water bottles, and cleats.

Keesh stands up with ease and holds her hand out to me. “You ready?”

I take her hand for support and she pulls my fat ass off the ground. My legs quiver as they adjust to being upright again. I can actually feel my heartbeat pulsing through my thighs.

“Yeah, we should call Steph and tell her we’ll be a while...I think my grandma can walk faster than I can right now.”

Keesh gives me a funny look. “Neither one of your grandmas are alive.”

“Exactly,” I snicker.

She shakes her head. “You’re sick.”

Keesha and I walk to Steph’s after tryouts, to work on homework. Amy is, of course, out with Alex somewhere. I’m not sure where. She doesn’t tell us much. I still talk to Alex on the phone, but we never bring up Amy. We just talk about school, TV, music, or whatever comes up. I’m not even quite sure Amy knows how much Alex and I talk. And, I really don’t care. The friendship I have with Alex isn’t something I’m willing to give up.

“Let’s start with science and get that stupid crossword out of the way,” Keesh suggests.

“I already got most of it done before we left class.” I know it’s rude, but I always work ahead while my teachers are talking; beats wasting time at home. “We only need four across and seven down.”

I share what I completed in class and Steph gets one of the answers we still need. We
share
our work. We don’t cheat. We have busy lives, other things to do. Like watch TV, eat, get online, and now soccer. We can’t spend all day working on worthless crossword puzzles or conjugating verbs in Spanish. Not to mention, being in honors translates to piles of homework every night. Not all of it is useless like the worksheets we get in science. Ms. Gelson assigns some pretty challenging essays, and in her class, we’re expected to reflect on everything we read. I don’t think I’ve ever annotated text in my whole life as much as I have this year. It wouldn’t be so bad if I actually liked anything we’re required to read.

So, in order to cope with the countless hours of homework, we share. It’s a skill we’ve been perfecting since we were born. You know, parents are always teaching their kids to share, right? We have just moved beyond sharing Barbies and Poly Pockets. We share...homework.

“Seven down is ‘seafloor spreading,’” Steph calls out.

“Duh, I can’t believe I didn’t get that one.” I shake my head, disappointed. Even though we share our work, we’re still pretty competitive.

“Okay, I’m done.” Steph throws her books down and stands.

“Are you kidding me?” I burst out. “Sit your booty back down, we’ve got a ton of math.”

“Damn, boss. Chill. I got it figured out,” Keesh informs us. “All right. Steph, you do one through ten. Meggie, you do eleven through twenty, and I’ll do the rest.”

Steph puts some music on and we all get started. It sucks not having Amy here. We all have to do more work. How the hell is she doing it on her own? We haven’t done our homework by ourselves since sixth grade. Damn, is a boyfriend worth all that homework? Do I even have to ask? This is Alex we’re talking about. If he was mine, I’d do all my homework and his. Okay, let’s not got carried away again...but I’d at least do mine, all by
myself
.

I only get to number fourteen before my mind starts to wonder. There is a lot to think about. Amy seems to be getting more and more distant, while her boyfriend is becoming more of a friend to me. Alex actually texted me before practice today to wish me luck. How sweet. Ben continues to be a flirt and then today, just as planned, I got the chance to speak to Eric during sixth period.

All day long, I had tried to figure out a way to get his attention. Then, the opportunity just fell into my lap.

I guess Ms. Gelson got sick of hearing us talk, because today was the day to separate the fab four. More specifically, Ms. Gelson moved
me
across the freakin’ room. Why me?
Steph
is the loud one. She may be the nice one, but she’s loud as hell. There’s not a whisper in that big body of hers. So why was I the one who had to move?