WHEN THE BELL RINGS, I TELL ASHLIN I HAVE TO STAY after and talk to Mr. Franklin about the quiz, and to go on to lunch without me. I wait until she’s down the hall before I sprint toward the gym.
The boys’ locker room is empty, but the thing I wasn’t counting on was that there’s no designated football area. I’d figured the football players’ lockers would be together, maybe even have their names taped on them. That’s how the cheerleaders do it. But there’s no way to tell whose locker is whose.
I start randomly opening the lockers without locks, but those are empty. I’d assumed the boys wouldn’t use locks, because what do they even have that needs locking up? Hair gel? My heart’s beating so fast, I’m afraid it’s going to burst. What if someone walks in and sees me? I have zero excuse for being in the boys’ locker room.
It feels different, doing this by myself. Like, a whole lot scarier.
Frantically I try a few more lockers before I give up.
I’m sitting on the bottom bleacher at cheer practice, fiddling with the laces on my sneakers and feeling down about messing up my part in the plan.
Rennie’s standing up front with her clipboard, getting ready to run down the list of who has to cheer for who for our first game on Friday night. “Most of you guys already know the drill. Everyone is assigned a football player to take care of. You decorate his locker on game day, you bake his favorite cookies, you basically just get his spirits up and his head in the game. I had QB One Joe Blackman from when I was a freshman to when he graduated because he requested me every single year. You wanna know why?”
A couple of junior girls, Teresa Cruz and Lynn McMannis, whisper something to each other and titter. I know what they’re thinking, but it isn’t true.
Rennie throws an icy glare in their direction, which silences them. “I’ll tell you why. Because I’m the best. I gave it one thousand percent every game day. I anticipated Joe Blackman’s needs without him having to ask. Sugar-free peanut butter cookies fresh-baked that morning, special cheers when he needed the boost. And honestly, I take pride in the fact that Joe’s playing division three football in college, because I know I helped get him there.” Rennie starts to pace. “Cheering’s not just about wiggling your butt and looking pretty. It’s dedication to excellence. And by the way, Paige, your toetouches were looking weak as hell at practice yesterday.”
By this point I’m zoning her out. When Rennie starts giving these “inspirational” speeches, she goes on forever and ever.
When her lecture is finally over, Rennie begins to read the list. My head snaps up when she gets to Nadia’s name. “Nadia, you have Diego Antunes,” she says.
I turn around and look at Nadia, who’s chewing on her lower lip and looking disappointed. Standing up, I say, “And just so everyone knows, a freshman getting to cheer for an upperclassman is a serious honor.” I say it so Nadia will feel better, but I don’t think it helps.
Things have been quiet on the Nadia and Alex front. I still have her on lockdown. She’s only allowed to hang out over at Janelle’s or at our house. I keep my bedroom door open at night, so I’ll hear if she tries to sneak out again. And I checked her phone yesterday morning while she was in the shower, and she didn’t have any texts or calls from Alex. Hopefully their hookup was just a onetime thing. If it wasn’t, it will be after this week.
Rennie keeps working down her list. I’m listening for Teresa’s name, because I’m sure Rennie will stick her with someone who sucks.
“Teresa, you’re with Lee Freddington.”
Yup. Lee Freddington is a sophomore, and our backup QB. He’s not going to get a minute of playing time, not with Reeve as QB One. Teresa stares Rennie down, and for a second I wonder if she might actually say something. But of course she doesn’t. No one ever does.
Rennie hands me her clipboard. “Everyone come see Lillia, and she’ll tell you your player’s info. We’re only giving this out once, so make sure you write it down someplace where you won’t lose it.” To me, she says, “I’m going to get a bottled water. Be right back.”
I look down at the list of the boys on the football team, with their birthdays, favorite cookies, home addresses, cell phone numbers—and their locker combinations, both gym and regular.
I want to kiss this piece of paper. Alex Lind, you are so dead.
On Tuesday Alex’s skin looked pink and tender. Today is Wednesday, and it’s cracking. He looks like the lizard Nadia found on our family vacation in Hawaii a few Christmases ago. I almost feel sorry for him. It’s hard to look him in the eyes, even. His eyeballs look so white against his skin. So do his lips. They’re chapped and blistering.
We’re at the lunch table. Rennie leans close to me and whispers, “Alex’s skin is making me lose my appetite.”
I take a bite of my sandwich. “It’s not that bad,” I lie.
“Then you sit across from him,” she says.
He’s so miserable, it seems like it hurts him to eat. I didn’t realize it would be that painful. I’d thought it would be purely cosmetic. Alex catches me looking at him, and I quickly glance away.
As soon as Alex gets up to get a soda, I say to Rennie and Ashlin, “Do you guys think it could be contagious?”
Ashlin looks horrified, and Rennie practically gags on her celery stick. “Oh my God. I’m switching seats,” she says. She moves her stuff two seats down, next to PJ. Ashlin moves with her.
When Alex comes back with his Coke, it’s just me and Reeve at this end of the table, and Alex definitely notices. Reeve must have too, because he says, “Dude, what the hell is up with your skin?”
Alex barely looks up. “It’s the sun,” he says. “Coach needs to calm down on the two-a-days.”
“I’ve been out there the same as you,” Reeve says, gulping down milk. “Maybe you should go to the doctor or something. Get that situation checked out.”
“My mom already made me an appointment for tomorrow,” Alex says. “It’s probably just an allergic reaction. I think our cleaning lady started using a new laundry detergent. That could be it.”
“You should put some aloe on it,” Reeve says.
I sweetly offer, “My dad has an aloe plant. I could cut you off a piece.”
“Thanks, Lillia.” Alex sighs. “First my car window gets smashed; now this. It’s been a crap week.”
“Dude, that was a blessing in disguise. Now you can get those tints you wanted for the windows.” Reeve throws his arm around Alex and says, “Hey, you know what? Maybe you shouldn’t be going to a dermatologist about your skin. Maybe you should go to a gyno. You could have caught some crazy kind of herpes from DeBrassio!” He bursts out laughing.
Alex’s head jerks up. He glances at me before growling, “Shut up, Reeve.”
“Hey, I give her credit. She’s a player just like me.”
I turn to Reeve and say, “Oh, so you’re saying you have herpes?” Reeve just laughs harder.
“Kat’s not like that,” Alex says, his eyes fierce. Then he gets up and throws his lunch into the garbage can.
“I was just kidding,” Reeve calls after him.
I watch Reeve get up and follow Alex out of the cafeteria. It’s surprising, the way Alex defended Kat. Kind of sweet, even. But then I remind myself that this fake chivalrous Alex also cheated on Kat by taking advantage of my little sister, so really, what right does he even have to defend anybody? He’s not fooling me. Not anymore.
