Cheerleaders: The New Evil (6 page)

The cheerleader coach let out a low cry as she
moved close enough to see the screwdriver lodged in Rochelle's neck.

The two workers appeared beside Ms. Closter. “It flew out of my hand!” one of them cried in a trembling voice, “I don't know what happened. I was holding it tight. But it just
flew
out!”

“Corky! Kimmy! Go!” Ms. Closter screamed, pointing frantically to her office. “Call for an ambulance! Hurry! Go!”

“She's losing a lot of blood,” one of the workmen muttered.

Corky turned away from Rochelle and, breathing hard, forced herself to run toward the office.

As she turned, she had caught a glimpse of the strange expression on Ivy's face. It lingered in Gorky's mind as she ran.

Not a smile, she thought.

No. Not a smile. Ivy wasn't smiling—
was
she?

♦ ♦ ♦

The paramedics arrived quickly. They stopped the bleeding and hurried Rochelle away on a stretcher. She had lost a lot of blood, but she was breathing.

Corky watched as two police officers questioned the workers. The two men had their heads lowered. One of them was gesturing with his hands, demonstrating how the screwdriver had tumbled.

Two more officers had climbed to the top of the bleachers and were examining the metal frame. A young officer stood at the door, talking to Mr. Hernandez, the principal.

Corky wiped tears off her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She and Kimmy had answered the officers' questions. Now they stood huddled silently beside Ivy and Lauren in front of Ms. Closter's office.

“I—I just can't
believe
it!” Kimmy wailed. “A few minutes ago Rochelle was cheering and shouting and jumping. And then . . .” A choked sob ended her sentence.

“She'll be okay. I'm sure she will,” Corky murmured.

Corky lowered her eyes to the floor. She didn't want to start crying again. After she had called for the ambulance, Corky burst into tears. It was a while before she could stop crying.

She knew she wasn't crying for Rochelle. She barely knew Rochelle. Corky was crying for her sister Bobbi.

She couldn't help thinking about her sister now. Bobbi had been a cheerleader too. But Bobbi hadn't been lucky like Rochelle. Bobbi had died in this same gym. In the locker room. In the shower.

Bobbi had been trapped in the shower room. Somehow, the doors had shut and she'd been locked inside. Then scalding hot water shot out of the showers. Unable to escape, Bobbi had suffocated in the boiling steam.

Murdered. Murdered by the evil.

And now another cheerleader had been wounded in a weird accident. More horror.

Was it an accident?

Corky glanced over at Ms. Closter. The police officers continued to question her. “I—I have to call
Rochelle's parents now,” Ms. Closter was telling them. “I have to tell them where they're taking Rochelle.”

Kimmy had wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Corky saw that she was trying to stop herself from trembling. Ivy and Lauren whispered together, leaning against the wall, their eyes red, their faces pale.

“You girls can go home!” Ms. Closter called. She waved a hand at the door. “I'll call you later to check on you.”

Corky took a deep breath, hoisted her backpack, and made her way out into the hall. She and Kimmy stopped outside the door. They exchanged sorrowful glances, but neither of them spoke.

Ivy and Lauren followed, their expressions dazed and glum. Lauren struggled with the sleeve of her jacket. Ivy helped her into it.

Then Ivy turned to Kimmy and Corky. “Uh—this sounds really stupid after—after what happened,” she murmured reluctantly. She avoided Corky's eyes. “But do you think you could tell us . . .” She hesitated.

Corky didn't understand what Ivy was trying to ask, “Tell you what?” she demanded. Her voice came out tight and shrill.

“Well . . .” Ivy glanced at Lauren. “Could you tell us which of us won? Who's going to be the new cheerleader?”

Kimmy's mouth dropped open. She let out a gasp.

Ivy blushed. “I—I mean, what happened to Rochelle—it's j-just
horrible!”
she stammered. “I
guess I'm still dazed. I still don't believe it happened. But I think it would make me feel better to know—I mean, to know who won.”

Lauren nodded in silent agreement.

Corky gaped at them, trying to understand. How could they
care
about cheerleading after a girl had nearly been killed? How could they be so
cold?
Corky asked herself.

Or were they just struggling desperately to return their lives to normal? Trying to think normal thoughts, to force the horror from their minds?

Corky glanced at Kimmy. Kimmy nodded.

“Well, I guess Ivy is the new squad member,” Corky told them. Her words came out in a whisper.

“What? What did you say?” Lauren demanded.

“It's Ivy,” Corky repeated, forcing her voice a little louder. “The new cheerleader is Ivy.”

A smile crossed Ivy's pink lips.

Lauren's chin quivered and her nostrils flared angrily. “This isn't fair, Corky!” she cried. “Really. This isn't fair!”

“Come on, Lauren—” Corky started to say.

“Don't tell me to come on!” Lauren fumed, scowling at Corky. “I know why you didn't choose me. I know why. It's because of Alex and me!”

“F
irst Hannah, then Rochelle,” Debra murmured, frowning. She tucked her toothpick-thin legs under her on the couch.

“Don't start,” Corky pleaded. She was slumped sideways on the armchair across from Debra. She raised one foot to stare at a hole in the toe of her white sock.

“Did you feel an evil presence?” Debra demanded, ignoring Gorky's demand.

“It was an accident,” Corky insisted. “An unbelievable, tragic accident. I—I just feel so bad for Rochelle. She'll probably miss weeks of school.”

They sat in Corky's living room. Golden afternoon
sunlight streamed into the front window. Outside, the snow had begun to melt.

“You don't think the evil is back?” Debra persisted. Her sky blue eyes locked on Gorky's.

Corky shook her head. “It's too frightening to think about. Please—let's try not to talk about yesterday. Talk about something else.”

“I wonder how long they'll keep the gym closed,” Debra said, toying with the fringe on one of the pillows. “How are we supposed to practice for the tournament?”

“It's probably just closed for today,” Corky replied. She took a long drink from the can of diet Coke she held in one hand. “The police have to do whatever they do.”

“They have counselors at school,” Debra added. “For kids who want to talk about the accident. You know. Talk about how they feel.” She dropped the pillow onto her lap. “Think you should go? You seem really stressed out.”

Corky sighed. “I don't need to talk to a counselor,” she replied, squeezing the soda can. “I need to talk to Alex. I can't believe Lauren said that to me! I can't believe that Alex—”

“Lauren was just trying to say the meanest thing she could think of,” Debra suggested. She ran a hand back through her short blond hair. “She was upset that Ivy won. So she said the first thing that came into her head.”

“Think so?” Corky lowered the soda to her lap, her expression thoughtful. “I don't know, Debra. Lauren
and Ivy have been friends for a long time. I don't think Lauren would be angry with Ivy—”

“She's angry with
you—
not Ivy,” Debra replied.

The phone rang. Corky jumped to her feet, nearly spilling the soda. “Maybe that's Alex. I've called his house twelve times. I left twelve messages for him to call!”

She hurried to the kitchen phone and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” she asked breathlessly.

“Hi. It's me!”

“Alex—where've you been?” Corky cried, not meaning to sound so frantic.

“Uh—I had some stuff to do. How are you doing, Corky? Are you okay? I heard what happened after school yesterday. To Rochelle.”

“I—I guess I'm okay,” Corky replied uncertainly. She took a deep breath. “Listen, Alex, there's something I've got to ask you. I'm just going to be blunt and come right to the point, okay?”

He hesitated. “Yeah. Sure. What's the problem?”

“What's with you and Lauren?” Corky blurted out.

“Huh? Lauren?” She couldn't tell if Alex was genuinely confused by the question, or if he was stalling for time.

“Yeah. You and Lauren,” she insisted. “Lauren told me that you and she—”

“Whoa!” Alex interrupted. “If she said that we went out or anything, it's a lie.”

“You didn't go out with Lauren?” Corky demanded. “What did you do—stay
in
with her?”

Alex let out an uncomfortable laugh. “No. No way,
Corky. I helped her one night last week with her government project. That's all. Maybe she got the wrong idea.”

“Maybe—” Corky replied. “Listen, Alex, do you want to come over tonight? We could study together. Maybe you could help me with
my
government project.”

“Sorry,” he answered reluctantly. “I can't. I—uh—just can't tonight, Corky.”

Couldn't he think of an excuse? Corky wondered. Even a
lame
excuse would be better than no excuse at all.

They talked for only a few more seconds, then said good bye. After hanging up, Corky lingered in the kitchen. He isn't telling the truth, she thought sadly. There's definitely something going on.

When she returned to the living room, she was startled to find Naomi there. Still in her red and blue ski jacket, Naomi had dropped down into Corky's chair and was talking heatedly to Debra.

“If we can't practice, we can't do the fire baton routine,” Naomi was saying. “It's going to take a lot of work—especially with a new girl on the squad.”

Both girls raised their eyes to Corky as she entered the living room. “Naomi, I didn't hear you come in,” Corky said.

“How are you? Okay?” Naomi asked. “Kimmy said that you and Debra were here, so I—”

“Want a diet Coke or something?” Corky offered. “Take off your jacket.”

Naomi unzipped the jacket but didn't pull it off. The pale late-afternoon sun through the window made her fiery-red hair glow. “Did you hear about Lauren?” she asked.

Corky lowered herself onto the arm of the couch. “Huh? What about her?”

“She went to Ms. Closter and begged to be an alternate,” Naomi replied.

“An alternate? We've never had an alternate before.”

Naomi nodded. “I know. But she got Ms. Closter to agree to it. Lauren will be like the seventh member of the squad. She told Ms. Closter she'd come to every practice and learn all the routines. Just in case—”

“Just in case
what?”
Corky demanded.

“In case something bad happens to one of us,” Naomi replied softly. “Then Lauren would be ready to take her place.”

“What else could happen?” Debra declared, rolling her eyes.

“Lauren said it was Ivy's idea,” Naomi revealed.

Corky shook her head. “Well, fine,” she said. “If being an alternate will make Lauren happy—fine. But Debra is right. The worst has already happened. Nothing else is going to happen to us. Right?”

“Right,” Debra and Naomi replied in unison.

A tisket, a tasket,

We want a BASKET!

A tisket, a tasket—

“Ow!” Heather cried. “Stop!”

The other cheerleaders landed heavily, still cheering.

Heather hobbled away from the line, holding her left calf. “Ow!
Man!”
she moaned.

“Heather—what's wrong?” Ms. Closter hurried up to her.

“Just a leg cramp,” Heather groaned, bending to rub the calf. “There. It's better.” She shook her head. “What a sharp pain!”

“Should I step in for her?” Lauren called from the sidelines.

“It won't be necessary,” Ms. Closter replied. “I think you know this routine well enough. I want to drag out the confetti cannons and see if we can get them to work.”

Corky glanced up at the gym clock. Eight-twenty. Thursday night. The cheerleaders seldom had night practices. But Ms. Closter had called this one since they'd had a couple of days off. And since the pep rally for the tournament was scheduled for the following day, the last day of school before winter vacation.

Corky smiled as Heather flashed her a thumbs-up sign and returned to the other girls. The practice had started slowly.

I think everyone is uncomfortable being back in the gym, Corky told herself. Every time we glance up at the bleachers, we're reminded of what happened to Rochelle.

But once they'd warmed up with a long aerobics routine followed by some double cartwheels and
several cheers, the girls seemed to be in the right spirit.