ALL OF THE GIRLS TRYING OUT FOR THE SQUAD ARE sitting on the football field bleachers in their short shorts and camis. Nadia is in the first row with a couple of her friends. I smile at her, and Nadia gives me a small smile back. I’m relieved she’s not still upset about my back handspring comment.
Rennie’s standing with Coach Christy in front of the girls, while Ashlin and I sit on the sidelines. We’ve got our uniforms on, like models. Rennie, too. Sleeveless shells with a J sewn on the chest, pleated skirts with bloomers underneath, and the ankle socks with the tiny colored balls on the heels. I have to admit, it feels kind of good to be wearing my uniform again.
When Coach Christy runs back to the gym office to photocopy permission slips, Rennie springs into action. Surveying the bleachers, she says in a low voice, “Okay, here’s the real deal. If you want to be a Jar Island varsity cheerleader, you have to look and act the part full-time. You’re not just representing yourself; you’re representing me. This is my squad. I have standards.” She pauses for effect. “Fingers crossed, we’re getting new uniforms this season, and they’re gonna be crop tops. That means I don’t want to see one French fry on anyone’s plate at lunch. I’m serious. Also, Dori.” Dori looks up, startled. “You need to retire that jacket. It makes you look like a soccer mom.”
I gasp, and Ashlin giggles behind her hand.
The girls whisper to each other nervously. Rennie looks over her shoulder to make sure Coach Christy isn’t on her way back outside, and she snaps, “Did I say I was finished?”
Everyone hushes up.
“There can’t be any weak links whatsoever. That means if your friend is slacking, you let her know. Like, just as a for instance, Melanie, you need to commit these three words to memory stat: ‘cleanse,’ ‘tone,’ ‘moisturize.’” Melanie’s eyes fill up with tears, but she quickly nods.
I honestly can’t believe what I’m hearing. I mean, okay, Melanie has bad skin, but does Rennie need to blow up her spot in front of everyone? I look over at Ashlin, hoping for solidarity, but she shrugs and whispers, “Forget the three steps. Send the girl to a dermatologist.”
Rennie points a finger at Nadia. “I want everyone to check out Nadia’s legs. That’s the level of tan you need to have. If you don’t, go see Becky at Mystic Beach on Sandtrap Street. She’ll hook you up.”
My sister flushes with pride and lowers her head humbly.
“And I’m not just talking to the freshmen.” I see Rennie scan the sophomores and juniors, who are here too. I know exactly who she’s looking for. Teresa Cruz. “Don’t get too comfortable just because you’re an upperclassman. Every girl has to earn her spot here. I will not hesitate to cut any dead weight for the good of the squad.”
I see Coach Christy come out the metal doors, so I clear my throat and motion for Rennie to wrap it up.
Finally she smiles. “Last chance, girls. If you don’t think you can hang, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
No one makes a move.
In the locker room it’s just Rennie and me changing out of our uniforms. Ashlin and Coach Christy have the other girls running around the track.
I’m pulling my sweater over my head as I say, “So we’re going straight to Alex’s now, right? He was pretty upset today at lunch.”
“Over what?”
“Over the fact that we left the party.” At the mention of the party, Rennie’s face goes blank. “I told him we’d come over after practice to take down the decorations and straighten up the pool house.”
“Will Reeve be there?”
Sourly I say, “I hope not.” I bend down and take off my sneakers.
“You know how today at lunch Reeve was going on and on about who his cheerleader should be?” When I don’t reply, she keeps talking. “I think that was his slick way of asking me. I mean, it makes total sense, right? Captain for captain.”
I pull my hair into a ponytail. “But wasn’t he hooking up with Teresa Cruz a bunch this summer?”
Rennie laughs dryly. “Um, they hooked up, like, twice. Besides, have you seen her thighs? She can barely cross her legs, much less do splits. You really think Reeve would want her repping his number out there?”
“I don’t know.” I tighten my ponytail.
“You don’t know?”
“I think Teresa’s pretty.” Rennie gives me a look like I’m crazy, but I ignore it. “So you’re coming with me, right?”
Rennie rolls her eyes. “Lindy has a maid. He doesn’t need us.”
“You’re not supposed to say ‘maid’—”
“Please, no lectures on rich people terminology!” she snaps, putting her cami back on.
My heart is thumping in my chest as I take off my socks and put on my espadrilles. Rennie won’t even look at me as she packs up the rest of her things. “Ren, I know you’re still upset about what happened with Kat this morning—”
I don’t even get to finish. Rennie levels me with a death stare and says, “I couldn’t care less about that freak.” then she walks out of the locker room, without saying good-bye.
By the time I get to the parking lot, her Jeep is long gone. I end up tracking down Ashlin for a ride to Alex’s.
Ash drops me off outside Alex’s house. I let out a big sigh of relief because Mrs. Lind’s car isn’t in the driveway. I was hoping she wouldn’t be home, because what if she’s mad at me too?
Unbuckling my seat belt, I say, “Thanks for the ride, Ash.”
“No prob, Lils. I’m just sorry I can’t help you clean up.” She makes a sad face and says, “I promised my mom I would go with her to get her hair cut. Last time they totally made her look like an old lady.”
“It’s fine,” I say. I haven’t told her about Rennie’s and my fight. That’s between the two of us.
I hop out of the car, and wave as Ashlin drives off. Instead of going to the front door, I head straight for the backyard. Alex is skimming the top of the pool with a net, trying to fish a red Solo cup out of the water.
“Hey,” I say.
He looks up, startled. “Where’s Rennie?”
Ordinarily I would offer up an excuse for her, but today I just shrug.
I start gathering up the tiki torches and the beach ball paper lantern lights we strung around the yard. There’s no way I can carry everything back to my house. If Alex wants this stuff out of here, he’s going to have to drive me home. He still seems pretty mad at me, though. “Did you get to try one of my cupcakes?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Alex is sitting on a lounge chair, messing with his phone.
“Was it good?”
“It was all right,” he says.
“Did you get one with a Swedish Fish inside? I did that in a few of them.”
He finally makes eye contact. “I ate three, and I think one had a fish.”
He’s warming up to me again, thank God. I offer him a small smile. “Cool. Um, I’m a little thirsty. Can I have a soda?”
He jerks his head toward the pool house. “You know where they are.”
Ouch. Okay. So maybe I will have to walk all this stuff home.
The pool house is basically Alex’s apartment, complete with a living room, a kitchen, and a huge master bedroom. He has it set up like a bachelor pad, James Bond style. Black leather sectional sofa, big-screen TV mounted on the wall, an actual Coke machine by the bar. And he has a snack pantry that his mom keeps stocked with cookies and chips and anything you could ever want.
His bedroom door is open, and I see one of our plastic palm trees deflated and handing over the back of his desk chair. His room is usually clean, but today it’s messy, for Alex. The bed’s not made and there are clothes on the floor.
I go to pick up the palm tree, and I stop. There is a small heap of clothes by his bed. A green tank top is on top of the pile. I bend down and pick it up.
My sister’s. The one she wore the night of the party, part of her minnow costume. I know because I have the same one, same brand, only one size bigger. There’s a crusty pink stain over the front, strawberry daiquiri. I smell it. Rum.
I walk back outside holding the tank. Alex’s eyes widen when he sees it. “Why do you have Nadia’s tank top?” I ask him.
“Oh . . . someone spilled something on her. I gave her one of my shirts to wear home,” he says.
Suddenly I find it hard to breathe. “Was Nadia drinking?” I told her not to. I forbid her. “She didn’t do anything stupid, did she?”
“Like what? Like go off with a random guy?” He shakes his head. “No, she didn’t do anything like that.”
I can feel the blood drain from my face. Is he talking about Nadia . . . or me?
Alex walks away and starts loading the decorations into the back of his SUV. I pick up as many of the tiki torches as I can carry and follow him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.
