Kelly McClymer-Must Love Black (20 page)

“Ouch,” interjected Sarah, a strong girl who could hold and throw like a guy and had about as much sensitivity to girl-speak. “Is that your way of saying, ‘Don’t let the door hit you in the butt on your way out’?”

Maddie frowned at her. But after I had torn up my uniform and had to zap it back together to hand in to Coach, I had accepted that fate had spoken. I wasn’t going to be the youngest head cheerleader of the Beverly Hills High School squad. It was a size-zero comfort that Chezzie was a senior, so she wouldn’t be taking everything from me—just the work, the fun, and the glory. “Chezzie, I wish you all the votes you deserve, girl. And I look forward to seeing you in the finals.”

She looked surprised. They all did. “You mean you’d be a cheerleader on another school’s squad?”

Truth time? The thought hadn’t even occurred to me until it came out to pop Chezzie’s gloat balloon. Finals? Against BHHS? “Duh? Why not? If I have to go to Salem, why not teach them to act Beverly Hills? Besides”—I held up the Splitflex—“I have this to keep my splits in perfect form. It would be a shame to waste it.”

From the looks on their faces, you’d think I’d said I was going to go on
Oprah
and tell all their secrets on national TV. As if anyone really wanted to know.

“Thanks for giving us such a great send-off, girls,” my dad said, tapping his watch. “But we have a schedule to keep.”

“Right.” I climbed into the SUV and strapped in. I waved until I was out of sight, trying not to think about how I would face a new school without Maddie to help me pick out my clothes and pluck the stray eyebrows I sometimes forgot. And . . . never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to Salem. And maybe I would meet them at the tournament. But I wish I hadn’t said so. Because my comment had changed something. I could see it in the way Chezzie’s top front teeth had peeked out of her smile like they did when she thought she had juicy news to tell.

And I could feel it inside me. Would I be a traitor if I cheered against them? It wasn’t my fault I had to go to a new school. And I intended to be kewl, no matter what it
took—even if it did come down to beating Beverly Hills in the cheerleading finals.

“First stop, Grand Canyon!” Dad announced. Oh, goody. I put in my earphones and turned up the music, the oh-so-appropriate “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” by Green Day. Prepare for a bumpy ride, I thought. Life is so not fair.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelly McClymer’s passion has been writing ever since her sixth-grade essay on how not to bake bread earned her an A-plus. After cleaning up the doughy mess, she gave up bread making for good and turned to writing and teaching as creative outlets. Kelly is the author of numerous adult romances, as well as
The Salem Witch Tryouts
,
Competition’s a Witch
,
She’s a Witch Girl
, and
Getting to Third Date
. She lives in Maine with her husband and three children. Visit her online at
kellymcclymer.com
.