A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love (18 page)

“Well, it’s not my responsibility to keep Holmes’ engagement together,” Tara said blithely. “But it is my responsibility to run this squad.”

As you are constantly reminding us,
I thought.

“And I’m going to talk to her,” Tara added.

“Great,” Daniel said sarcastically.

Yeah. Really great.

“All done!” Jaimee announced. “We just have to let it dry. What do you guys think?”

We all pushed up out of our chairs for a better look as Felice whistled, impressed. “It’s awesome, James,” she said.

“Totally. It
is
the best banner ever,” I said.

“Yeah, it was all me,” Steven said, stretching his arms above his head. Jaimee smacked him on the chest and he coughed. “Ow! Damn, girl. Violence is not the answer,” he said, rubbing at his ribs.

“Sorry,” Jaimee said sweetly. “It was a reflect.”

“I think you mean
reflex,
” Felice corrected. Then instantly slapped her own hand over her mouth.

Everyone held their breath. Felice was constantly correcting Jaimee on her misspoken words and Jaimee
hated
it. Lately Felice had been better about it, biting her tongue most of the time, but apparently this one had slipped out. I braced myself for Jaimee’s oncoming breakdown.

“You’re probably right,” Jaimee said with a shrug. “I think I’ll go check on the girls upstairs.”

She grinned with pride as she pushed herself up off the floor. Felice sighed in relief. Apparently Jaimee was in too good a mood over her artistry to let little things get to her. I watched her bound up the stairs, her blonde ponytail bouncing. When Jaimee was psyched up, her attitude was infectious, and now everyone at the table was smiling instead of throwing death-ray glares at the flirtatious five.

At least one good thing had come out of tonight.

 
An hour later, we were just getting cleaned up when the doorbell rang, singing a soothing tune that echoed throughout the house. Terrell jumped up from the sofa, leaving behind a distinct imprint of his butt cheeks. That’s what happens when you sit in the same exact position for four hours.

“That’s the pizza and wings!” he announced.

Tara dropped what she was doing. “You ordered pizza and wings? The two tons of food we had wasn’t enough for you?”

“Chicken feed,” Terrell threw over his shoulder.

“I don’t do crudités,” Joe added.

“Well, whatever,” Tara said, shoving scraps of paper into a garbage bag so violently, I had a feeling she was imagining shoving them down Terrell’s throat. “The squad isn’t paying for it.”

Terrell fished his wallet out of his back pocket. “I didn’t ask you to,” he said. “God, Timothy. Who knew you were such a hard-ass?”

I did!
I thought. As did, most likely, the rest of the team, all of whom spontaneously averted their eyes from Tara.

Terrell took the stairs two at a time and came back down a couple minutes later with two pies and a white paper bag rolled up on top of them. He obliviously placed the pies down on a table that Felice and Kimberly were trying to clean, and picked up the bag of wings.

“Yo, Healy! Think fast!” he shouted.

We all watched as the bag tumbled end over end through the air toward Daniel. He dropped the markers he had been gathering in his arms and his eyes widened. He reached for the bag, but it was over his head and out of his grasp. My breath caught in my throat as the bag opened up over our heads and splattered to the floor—right in the center of Jaimee’s banner. Wings and barbecue sauce exploded everywhere, covering the crab and dolphin and shedding droplets all over Steven’s carefully filled-in letters.

Total banner carnage.

“Nooooooo!” Jaimee wailed, dropping to her knees next to the mess.

She tried to pick a couple of wings up off the paper, but they left behind huge orangey-brown smears. Her work was completely ruined. For a long moment no one said a word. And then the guys, all of them, cracked up laughing.

“Daniel!” I blurted, smacking his arm with the back of my hand.

“What? I’m sorry!” he cried, putting his hand over his mouth. His eyes, however, were full of mirth.

“Jaimee? Are you all right?” Felice asked.

Jaimee slowly raised her head. Her face was covered with pink blotches. She took one look at Terrell, who was doubled over, then burst into tears and ran up the stairs. Her exit only made the guys laugh harder. It’s really unbelievable what guys can find funny. Did they not notice that every female in the room was glaring at them?

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” I shouted.

“Uh-oh. Tantrum!” Terrell said, loving every minute of it.

“No. No tantrums. I don’t
do
tantrums,” I said, glaring pointedly at Joe. “I just want to know how, exactly, you people manage to walk around without a shred of a conscience. She worked her butt off on that banner all night long and you just ruined it and then laughed in her face about it. How would you feel if that was you?”

The guys slowly stopped laughing, but they didn’t look chagrined. They just looked pissed off. At me.

“Wait. Sorry. I forgot,” I said. “You don’t
have
feelings.”

I looked at Daniel as I said this. I don’t know why—maybe because I was more disappointed in him than anyone—and his jaw clenched as he stared back at me. I wanted him to say he was sorry. To say
anything.
But he didn’t. Finally I turned and stormed off after Jaimee. I had to get out of there before
I
burst into tears.

 
I came back down to the rec room a little while later, having calmed Jaimee down enough that she was no longer blowing her nose, but not enough to coax her out of her room. I could hear hushed voices whispering down below as I descended and I held my breath, preparing myself for whatever confrontation might ensue. Terrell? Daniel? Who was going to get on my case first? Hardly mattered. I knew that I was right and I would argue my point until the cows came home.

If we had any cows.

But when I arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I noticed something was missing. The guys. The pizza and the wings were gone as well. Apparently they had taken their food and fled. Nice to know they still had an appetite. Heathens.

Tara and a bunch of the other girls were folding up the last of the tables while Chandra and Kimberly stacked tins of baked goods. Sage, Lindsey and Karianna were all huddled up in the center of the room, whispering.

“Hey,” I said quietly.

“You!” Sage whirled on me, crossing her arms over her chest. “What is
wrong
with you?”

Okay. That was one person I was not expecting to volley with. Not that I wasn’t used to it.

“What do you mean?” I asked, completely clueless.

“They left!” she exclaimed. “Why did you have to be such a bitch to them?”

“Excuse me! I think she said exactly what needed to be said!” Chandra protested, stepping up next to me.

“You would,” Lindsey said, looking Chandra up and down.

“Oh! What was that? Some kind of brunette commentary?” I asked.

“If the mousy brown rat’s nest fits,” Lindsey said snootily.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Felice said, a little line appearing between her brows.

“Whatever, the point is, the guys are pissed at us now,” Karianna said. Like it was the end of the world.

“So what?” Tara asked shrilly. “I’m pissed at
them.
We should
all
be pissed at them. They came in here, they didn’t lift a finger to help us all night, and then they defecated all over Jaimee’s hard work. Does that even matter at all to you people?”

“Or are you so dumbstruck with lo-o-ove that you failed to notice one of your teammates running out of here in tears?” Phoebe added.

“How
is
Jaimee?” Autumn asked.

“She’s upset,” I told her matter-of-factly. “Really upset.”

“As she should be,” Tara put in.

“Hey! Terrell made a mistake. One mistake,” Sage said. “And Annisa treated him and all the other guys like they were serial killers. They’re our teammates too.”

“Serial killers?” I said. “Hello, hyperbole!”

“Oh, you are so pretentious. Newsflash! Mrs. O’Donaghue isn’t here to be impressed with you right now,” Sage said. “When are you going to get over yourself already?”

My jaw dropped open. For once, I was rendered totally speechless.

“Okay, you guys?” Autumn interjected. “The vibe in here is getting kind of murky. Why don’t we all take a deep breath and—”

“Stick a sock in it, hippie chick,” Karianna said with a sneer.

Autumn looked stricken. “There’s no need for name-calling.”

“Come on, you guys. We can’t let
them
divide
us
,” I said.

“Listen to the way she says ‘them,’ ” Lindsey said, placing one hand on her ever-jutted-out hip. “Like they’re the enemy or something.”

“Well, they are if they’re going to be responsible for us attacking each other,” Tara said. “Especially after how far we’ve come.”

That made everyone pause for a second. This whole year had been about bickering and infighting and having to repair the squad after we tore ourselves to shreds. Once we got through nationals, we had all sort of calmed down and I, for one, had thought all that was over. And maybe it would have been, if Coach Holmes had never brought guys onto the squad.

For once, Tara Timothy and I were on the same side of an argument. Apparently good ol’ Hades had finally frozen over.

“Whatever. I’m gonna go call Terrell and make sure he’s all right,” Sage said.

“Like Terrell Truluck is ever anything but all right,” Tara said sarcastically.

Sage grabbed her leather backpack and headed for the stairs. Unbelievable. She wasn’t even dating the guy. I was dating Daniel and just then I was still too irritated to care much if he was all right. I mean, he had left without even saying good-bye to me. What was that about?

“And I’m gonna call Joe,” Lindsey added.

“Not if I do first,” Karianna said, lunging for her purse. They both jockeyed for the stairs, bickering their way up and out as they frantically dialed on their cell phones.

“Well. That was tons of fun,” Chandra said once they were gone.

“Witches,” Autumn added.

“Autumn!” I said, surprised. So much for no name-calling.

She shrugged. “Well, I feel better now.”

Yeah. We were in trouble. Big-time.

11

All day Sunday I kept waiting for the phone to ring or the doorbell to bong. I figured Daniel owed me an apology. Maybe even more than one. And I was resolved to wait patiently for that apology and to hear him out whenever he decided to grovel. I even imagined my benevolent speech of forgiveness. Which would end with a nice strong closer, like, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

Not sure I would ever actually say that, but it was fun to imagine.

But the longer Sunday dragged on, the more my forgiving spirit waned. I got through my late breakfast without a peep. Did my homework and nothing. Sat around watching DVDs for four hours and zilch. What was going on here? Daniel called me every single day, unless I called him first. So even if he didn’t know I was irritated, he would have called me anyway. Which meant he
did
know I was irritated and was purposely
not
calling me. Was
he
mad at
me
for some reason? That would just be so wrong. I mean, what did
I
do?