Something in Between (22 page)

26

Remember, no effort that we make to attain something beautiful is ever lost.

—HELEN KELLER

IN MID-JANUARY,
two nights before I leave for Nationals, I'm supposed to hang out with Royce. But he cancels at the last minute.

“I'm sorry, Jas,” he says. “I have a dinner for my dad.”

He's spending a lot of time with his dad lately. I want to ask him why he can't bring a date. Or is it that he doesn't want to bring
me
, that maybe I'm not good enough for this fancy benefit he's going to? But I don't say anything.

“It's all right. I'll see you when I get back,” I say.

“You're going to kick ass,” he tells me. “I wish I could be there.”

I'm disappointed that I'm not going to see him, but don't let it distract me like I did before. Winning Nationals won't be easy—just like winning the deportation case won't be easy. The case may be out of my hands, but how well I lead the team is something I control. I need to focus for my team, for our sisterhood. Millie's right, I can't let life distract me from what I want.

The plane ride to Florida the next day is filled with turbulence. I hold hands with Kayla, who hates airplanes, until we land in Orlando.

“You all right?” I ask.

“Yeah, I'm good,” she says, but she has a faraway look in her eye. I realize that we haven't talked about what happened at Lo's party. I think she was embarrassed that Mason hit on her in front of Dylan.

It's warm here. Sticky. We get to the hotel, which is less than a mile from Disney World, where the competition is taking place. We have a team meeting, then we go to the beach to relax. I scoop up some sand to put in a bottle for my collection. At practice the next day, the girls are nervous, but I tell them to have confidence.

We went to Nationals last year, but only came in third place. This time we have to win it all. “We've done everything possible,” I say at our final meeting just before we compete for the Universal Cheerleaders Association National High School Cheerleading Championships. “We've put in the time at practice. We've trained our bodies and perfected our moves as much as we can. It's all a mental game now. You girls got this. I believe in you.”

Coach Davis doesn't even have to talk. She simply steps back and watches us prepare. We begin our stretching routine as the other teams compete at the center of the auditorium. The girls are so focused on the moment that no one's talking anymore. I keep my mind off everything except for my stunts and my girls.

After a few minutes of stretching, Coach tells us we're next up to perform our routine. We all get up and check each other's ponytails and shoelaces as the emcee announces Chatsworth High over the speaker system.

I yell at the girls, trying to pump them up. I briefly worry about Kayla, who's kept to herself a bit on the entire trip. But when I catch her eye, she nods, determined, and I know she won't let us down.

“You're all champions. So act like it!”

The girls follow me onto the performance mats. Hundreds of people are watching us standing under the spotlights. We bow, tuck our chins toward our chests, waiting for the music. When the beats blast through the speakers, I count out our start.

We start off strong with our tumbling, hitting all our backflips and full twists. Our stunt sequence begins, and the bases pop us flyers up into perfect scorpions. Each group sticks their marks right on the beat. We fly through the rest of the routine—tumbling, cheering, stunting—with barely any mistakes. After the music ends, I can't believe how well the girls have done. The entire audience gives us a standing ovation.

I know, even before they announce it over the loudspeakers at the end of the event, that we've won.

27

The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don't have any.

—ALICE WALKER

I'M SO HAPPY
I can't even describe the feeling. There's something about winning at a high level that leaves you both mentally exhausted and in euphoria somewhere over the cloud banks hovering on the edge of a sunset's pink glow.

When I finally get home, I fall into my parents' arms as they welcome me at the door. “We're so proud of you, Jas!” I realize how lucky I am to have them. They know how hard I've worked.

In the hallway is the biggest bouquet of flowers I've ever seen. It's from Royce, of course. I'm beaming as I read his card.

This national championship couldn't have come at a better time for everyone. Even Lola Cherry is sweet and cheerful the next time she visits. And I can tell that Danny and Isko are proud of their cheerleader big sister.

It feels like my old confidence is finally returning. It's different this time though. Before all of these problems happened, I thought I was perfect. I think I secretly thought I deserved more than anyone else, because I worked so hard. Now the confidence comes from knowing that I can get through anything with a little persistence and a lot of love from family and friends.

When I arrive at school on Monday, I start to realize how big my support group has gotten. We're celebrating our championship with a rally in the gym, where we're going to perform the winning routine. The entire school is in attendance. Chatsworth High has never won a national cheerleading championship, so everyone is really proud. Even the kids who look down on cheerleaders and think we're just bimbos in short skirts. The band plays our school fight song. Everyone cheers for us.

Our cheer squad should have its own cheerleaders. Ha. I lead the girls to the middle of the floor to get ready for our performance. It's so loud I can barely hear what Coach Davis is saying to us. When I take my position, I look up and see all of the school administrators, sports teams, and directors looking down at us. As Coach cues up the routine music, I yell out to the team.

“Kayla leads,” I shout. “She's captain on this one!”

Kayla nods at me. She's got her game face on. She's focused and ready. Kayla signals for us to begin. We put all our heads down, waiting for the music to start.

That's when I see Royce standing at the corner of the gym. He'd texted me the night before saying he would try to be there and my heart does that tumble-over thing it does when he's around. Even though it's been only a couple of days since we've seen each other, it feels like forever. He's wearing the tie that I gave him for Christmas. He sees me see him and gives a little wave. I can't wave back so I wink at him. Our song suddenly blasts out of the speakers. The entire gym goes crazy.

We start our routine. Everyone hits each mark, just like at Nationals, but you can tell we're having more fun with the moves. We're smiling big and doing little extra shimmies and adjustments to make the crowd happy. We're finally home.

When the performance ends, the leadership crew has us gather around our trophy to have pictures taken while the DJ plays music for the students as they're waiting. I stay still long enough for the photographer to get one picture, then I run through the dancing and singing students, searching for Royce. I try to spot him by looking for the flag on his tie, but I don't see him anywhere. He's already gone. I know he said he had to get to a tutoring session, but I wish we'd been able to say hi to each other. I'm glad he was here, but I wish he'd stayed.

* * *

My family decides to hold a celebration at our house after school the next Friday.

At the door, I show our guests where to kick off their shoes. Even though she would never say anything to a guest, Mom would kill me if I let people walk on the carpet with their shoes on. Last night I had to spend the whole evening with her, making sure the house was completely clean for the party. We trimmed the indoor bamboo plants and scrubbed the outside of the pots, dusted all of Dad's elephant statue collection that has spread all over the house, and steam-vacuumed the carpets.

Chatting and laughing, Deandra, Anabel, Lexie, and Kayla place their shoes in pairs along the entryway. Since I know how much food Mom can cook when she invites a few of her lady friends over, I'm not as awed as everyone else when my teammates show up to the literal mountains of pancit, barbecue pork, lumpia, rice, and roasted vegetables. Even though there are a ton of us, Mom has made enough that I'm certain I'll be begging guests to take some food home.

“Where are your brothers?” Mom asks me as she pulls a pan out of the oven. The girls are all gathered around the kitchen table talking to each other. “They're supposed to be helping me.”

As soon as she pulls out one pan, I replace it with another. “Probably walking home,” I say.

“Yeah, well, they're walking really slow,” she says. “Funny how long it takes when you know you have to do some work when you get home. You were the same way.”

“I've always done my chores,” I protest.

Scooping food from the pan onto a plate, Mom shakes her head. “When your brothers show up, tell them they can't play any video games.”

“They're not going to like that,” I say, wondering where Royce is.

He's late for the party, and he's never late. That's one thing he learned from his mother. We've been texting each other, and I spoke to him on the phone a couple of times, but I haven't seen him in days. Not properly. It's starting to worry me, even though we haven't fought or anything. He apologized a bunch of times about Mason's behavior at Lo's party, but I told him it was all right, and he seemed to believe me. I guess I should tell him how I really feel about Mason, but I don't want to cause conflict. Besides, I don't want to think about his jackass brother right now. This is my party.

Dad's roped a couple of the girls into playing dominoes. He looks over and starts digging in. “
Neneng?
Why don't you go clean your room? You must have some chores to do.”

“This is how you congratulate me?” I ask. “By putting me to work?”

“Exactly. Hard work makes a cheerleader strong,” Dad says, turning back to the game. “Girls, this is where I dominate your futures.”

Some of the other girls are already digging in to the food. Deandra seems to have the metabolism of the entire team and goes back for thirds. We don't know how she keeps that small muscular frame so trim. She must be working harder than the rest of us. Or maybe all the clowning around she does burns more calories than I think.

Lexie must be thinking the same thing, because she says, “Did you not eat anything for the last month before Nationals?”

Deandra just smiles and talks with her mouth full. “You can't let good food like this go to waste.” She turns to me. “My mother's cooking is terrible. If I had this food around every day, I'd be five times my size.”

Royce finally shows up. I practically run into his arms but he just gives me a quick peck on the cheek when he walks into the kitchen. “Hey, babe,” he says distractedly. “Am I late?”

“A little,” I say. “Where've you been?”

He doesn't answer and seems tense, like he doesn't want to be here. He's never like this. Does he not want to hang out with the cheerleaders? He knows Kayla, of course, but not any of the other girls. He takes a piece of lumpia from the tray. It's his favorite. “I was with Mason,” he finally says.

“Everything all right?” I ask. Like I said, I'm not a big fan of Mason, but I try to be cool about it. If one of my brothers was having trouble, I would expect the same from Royce.

“Yeah, yeah, you know, Mason,” he says, waving off my words. “So what's going on here? Food and girls? How can a guy want anything more?”

“Whatever,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him. I get jealous so easily. And I'm thrilled to see him. “I need something to drink. Want something?”

“I'm good,” he says, and finally grins at me. “You're not wearing your cheer uniform.”

“Oh, you liked that, did you?” I put my hands on my hips and pretend to scold him.

He shrugs his shoulders boyishly, and my heart flips in my chest. He sits on a kitchen stool and I lean forward against his back, my arms around his neck, resting my chin on his head. It's the most public we've been with our affection around my family, but I think they can handle it.

As soon as I slip away to get my drink, Kayla walks right up to him. As I pour some tea at the drink table, I listen to them talk to each other.

“Hey, Kayla,” he says, stretching out his hand to shake hers. “Nice to see you again.”

What a dork. What kind of high school guy shakes hands with a girl he's met before? A politician's son. That's who. It's probably automatic for him at this point.

“You too,” she says. “Glad you could make it. How's your...”

“Good,” he interrupts. “We're all good. You know?”

“Yeah. I better go check on the dominoes game. Jasmine's dad usually needs to be watched so he won't cheat,” Kayla says. “See you.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I'm sure I'll see you at some point.”

What does
that
mean? Why is he going to see her? When? I walk back to Royce, thinking how odd it was that Kayla approached him. Maybe she was just trying to make him feel welcome, but I get the sense that something's going on.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “We were just saying hi.”

I don't know why, but I start feeling a twinge of jealousy in my stomach as I watch Kayla beeline to the opposite end of the room.

I wonder how things are with her and Dylan. I half expected him to be here, even though this isn't his kind of crowd. Still...she seemed weird around Royce. Or was she flirting? I can't tell. My mind is racing. I glance at Royce, my jealousy now a raging green-eyed monster.

Come on, Jas. Stop. Be serious. Your best friend isn't trying to steal your boyfriend.

“Let me introduce you to a few of the girls,” I say, and lead him to where my teammates are clustered. “Royce, this is Anabel, Natalia, and Deandra. They're on the team with me.”

“Hey, everyone, congratulations on everything... Nice to meet you,” he says. He makes small talk with everyone, but then pulls me away.

“What's up?”

He grimaces, looks at his watch. “I'm sorry, Jas, I really have to go.”

“You're
leaving
?”

“Yeah.” He shuffles his feet.

“But you just got here.”

“I know, but my dad...”

I feel everyone trying to look elsewhere, to give us our privacy, but I'm embarrassed nonetheless. I was so proud to introduce him to everyone, but he's not himself, I can tell. He's anxious and won't look me in the eye.

“We've barely seen each other since the week before I left for Nationals. You know, if you leave now, Lola Cherry will be mad she didn't see you. She's not even here yet. Did you even say hello to my parents? Can't you stay a
little
longer?”

He gently removes my hand from his arm. “I really need to go,” he says. “Sorry. I wanted to make sure I came at least for a few minutes. I'll make it up to you. Promise.”

He gives me half a kiss, apologizes again. “I'm really sorry.”

“Fine, go.” I pout. “Call you later?”

“Yes, later,” he says and apologizes again.

I want to ask him what he's doing with his dad this time, but I don't want to seem possessive. I don't want to be one of those stereotypical clingy girls. He must have his reasons for leaving so quickly. I need to trust him.

Deandra comes up to me as soon as he walks away. “Where's he going? I was going to give him some of my lumpia. I think I'm finally starting to get full.”

“He has to go do something with his dad,” I say.

“Really? He's probably pretty busy. I heard his dad's a congressman or something.”

“He is,” I say, a little annoyed that the only thing people know about Royce is his father's name. I take Deandra's plate from her. “Here, give me those. I'm hungry.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” she says. “They're really great. Your mom's such an awesome cook.”

Just then, I hear Mom yell. “Danny!” It isn't her usual voice. She sounds frantic. Pained. I turn to look, and I gasp. There's my brother, dripping blood from his nose and mouth. His eyes are swollen nearly shut. Isko is helping him walk, nearly falling over from the extra weight. Some of the girls on the cheer squad instantly run over to hold him up.

“What happened?” Mom yells. “Angelo! Get over here, right now!” she says, calling for Dad.

“Eric and his friends jumped him after calling us FOBs,” Isko says. “They told us to go back to our stupid island. I tried to fight back, but Danny told me to run away.”

“What's an FOB?” Deandra asks.

“Fresh off the boat,” I say.
Go back to your stupid island?
Eric learned that from Mason at Lo's party. I'm seeing white, I'm so angry.

Dad carries Danny over to a couch while Mom grabs packs of ice. He winces from a pain in his side where he must have also been punched in the ribs. One of the girls has already brought wet cloths to wipe away the blood. He looks awful. This wasn't just a little school-yard fight. They really, really beat him up. They wanted him to hurt.

I'm so angry, I want to go out and give those boys a lesson even though I'm at least five years older and a good thirty pounds heavier than them.

“Who's Eric?” Dad demands, holding Danny.

I already know.

Isko talks for his brother again. “You know, Lorraine? She used to be friends with Jasmine. It was her brother Eric who threw the first punch,” he says, and looks around the room. He spots Kayla leaning against a wall and nods toward her. “But it was
her
brother, Brian, who started it.”