Cheerleading Can Be Murder (Horror High #1) (6 page)

Chapter Thirteen

The next day at school, I avoided Amanda like the plague. In fact, I pretty much avoided everyone. At lunchtime, I skipped eating and hid out in the girls’ bathroom. I knew I’d regret not eating later, as my stomach was already growling angrily. You’d think I’d be worried about the psycho-breather, but he/she was the least of my concerns when I was dealing with a real psycho, like Brittani Barlow.
How could she do that to Teresa? Why was my best friend giving me the cold shoulder? And why was my new friend making out with my ex behind my back?

I didn’t want to see anyone right now.

I couldn’t avoid Amanda any longer by the time our Phys Ed class rolled around. By some miracle, she and I were chosen for different sides in a basketball scrimmage. I avoided all eye contact, trying to sit the bench as much as possible. I couldn’t wait for the school day to be over.

To make matters worse, I had to see Brittani in Study Hall next. She immediately came over and tried to chat with me, but I stuck out my hand crisply, stopping her mid-sentence. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Brittani, I will—”

It was her turn to cut me off. “You’ll do
what
, Dakota? Go tell my mom, the
principal
?” she let out a loud, creepy cackle.
What was wrong with her?

“I’ll tell the police,” I answered seriously. That seemed to shut her up. “You could have broken her neck,” I hissed.

“Well, I didn’t. She got hurt just bad enough to keep her from trying out for the team,” Brittani said crudely, biting her lower lip. Then she added, “Don’t pretend like you actually liked Teresa. She got what she deserved…”

Somewhere deep inside her, I hoped she felt at least a glimmer of guilt. If not, I was starting to seriously worry about her sanity. I stuck my nose in a paperback and shut out the world again.

When the final bell rang, I made my way down to the gym. Coach Davis was waiting for us. “Listen, girls. I don’t want what happened yesterday to ever happen again. Make sure you’re using proper dismounting techniques when coming down from a stunt,” she warned all of us.

But she was looking straight at me as she said it.

We all nodded our heads in agreement. I felt all hope of making the squad drain out of me. “Now, I want everyone to line up across from each other. We’re going to learn the individual routine.”

Chapter Fourteen

Even though it was raining, Coach Davis made us run outside on the track before releasing us from practice. I assumed that Amanda would still need a ride home, and I felt a little awkward approaching her, considering the fact that I’d done so well at avoiding her all day. No matter how angry I was at her for kissing Ronnie, I wasn’t cruel enough to make her walk six miles home in the rain.
Maybe I should just forgive her. Maybe I’m just being silly
, I scolded myself.

That thought quickly dissipated as I saw her climbing in the passenger seat of Ronnie’s Trans Am. He was one of the few freshman boys who already had their license.
Probably because he was held back a grade or two
, I thought bitterly.

Amanda saw me approaching, and she smiled apologetically before pulling his passenger door closed behind her. The Trans Am’s tires squealed as they sped off together.

I turned around and ran to my mom’s Camry. I didn’t want anyone to see the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I jumped into the back, slamming my backpack down on the floorboard. I held my face in my hands, willing the tears to go away.

Moments like this, I wished I wasn’t so transparent and my mom couldn’t read my mind. “That girl’s had a hard life.” She looked back at me in the rearview mirror, her eyes soft. I guess she saw what happened.

“So, since she’s had a hard life, I just have to let her take my boyfriend?” I spat. My mom was quiet for several minutes before saying gently, “Remember, Dakota, he’s not your boyfriend.”

The words hurt, but they rang true. My mom was right. Ronnie wasn’t my boyfriend—he was Genevieve’s, and when she found out about Amanda, if she hadn’t already, she was going to make Amanda’s life a living hell.

“When you get older you’ll realize that sometimes having a friend is more important than having a boyfriend,” mom added.

“I guess you’re right,” I replied sulkily, sinking down in my seat.

Chapter Fifteen

When I walked through the doors of Harrow High, I had a little pep in my step. I’d stayed up late practicing the group and individual cheer routines. I felt confident, deciding to convert all of my negative energy into determination to succeed at tryouts. I didn’t need to waste my energy or time worrying about Ronnie, or anyone else for that matter.

Today would be our last practice before tryouts on Friday, and that was all I was focused on. I aced my Biology and Pre-Algebra exams, and even made a new friend in American History. His name was Andy McGraw, and we ended up getting stuck together for a history project on Joan of Arc after everyone else had already picked partners. He was tall and lanky, with flashy red hair and a patch of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He seemed to turn every little thing into a joke, which was fine because I needed more comedy in my life. I didn’t really see him as a prospect for dating, but considering how poorly things were going for me in the friend department, I could use an extra one of those.

When lunchtime rolled around, I didn’t even bother looking for my friends. I jumped in the lunch line, selecting random foods that looked appetizing. Skipping lunch yesterday was a terrible idea, and I decided not to do that again. I needed a high energy level for the last practice today, and eating well would help.

I gave the cashier two dollars and eighty-three cents, and I stepped into the main lunchroom, which was filled with rows and rows of lunch tables. Now that I was friendless, I knew what it felt like to have nowhere to sit.
The next time I see someone looking around for someone to sit with, I swear I’ll wave them over, because this is not a good feeling
, I decided.

Instantly, I spotted Sydney at Tasha and Genevieve’s table again. I tried to catch her eye, but she was too caught up in whatever topic they were discussing. On the other side of the room, I saw Brittani and a group of preppy girls who looked just like her. She caught me looking and waved.
Yuck.
That girl is crazy.
I didn’t see Amanda anywhere. But that was probably a good thing.

“Hey, you,” said a voice from behind me, causing me to jerk with surprise. Much to my delight, it was Andy from American History. “Do you want to sit with the cool kids?” He raised his eyebrows, flashing that little half-smile I couldn’t help but adore.

“Who are these cool kids you speak of?” I asked curiously, unable to hold back a smile myself.

“Well, it’s
one
cool kid, actually, and you’re looking at him! How lucky do you feel right now?”

Andy was such a clown, but I loved the lighthearted feeling I got from just being around him. We found a semi-abandoned spot at one end of a center lunch table. He chewed with his mouth open and told cheesy jokes, but for some reason, when I was around him I forgot about everything that was bothering me. Tryouts, my failing friendships, the pressure, the psycho-breather, Teresa’s accident…

Speaking of Teresa, she stumbled inside the lunchroom, trying to juggle the complicated task of using crutches and carrying her lunch tray simultaneously.

She looked so pitiful, and I immediately jumped up to hurry over to her side. Taking the tray from her hands, I led her over to the table with me and Andy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“I’m okay. It’s just a pain using these things,” she said, nodding down at the crutches. She leaned them against the side of the table and hopped on one foot over to her seat, plopping down on the bench.

“Is your leg broken?” I winced at her cast.

“Only in three places,” she joked, prying open a carton of juice with her teeth.

“I’m so sorry, Teresa.” I stared at the food on my tray, watching mac n’ cheese blur together as I fought back tears. I needed to eat, but my stomach was in knots again.

“I’ll let you guys talk. I need to get going to my next class,” Andy said, waving at Teresa politely and winking at me.

“See you later,” I called out after him, and I really hoped I would get to see him later.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Teresa said, catching me by surprise.

“I know. But I’m still sorry it happened. I hate that you got hurt…”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Putting her hand on my arm, she gave it a light squeeze. I set down my fork and looked at her expectantly. I was worried that I knew what was coming next…

“I know Brittani did it on purpose. I felt her let go of my foot, and then I saw the smile on her face when I hit the floor.” I couldn’t believe she actually knew and was staying so calm about it!

“We need to go to Coach Davis and tell her the truth,” I said, prepared to find the coach and do it right then, but Teresa just shook her head.

“This has been a real wake up call for me, Dakota. I mean, I’ve been pretty mean to other girls over the years, and maybe if I were in Brittani’s shoes, I would have done the same thing.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just sat there staring at her. “And now Tasha and Tally won’t talk to me, just because I’m not going to be a cheerleader anymore.” She rolled her eyes angrily. Now
that
piece of information did not surprise me.

“Just promise me you’ll beat them for me,” she pleaded, turning back to me and taking my hand in hers.

“I’ll do my best,” I promised.

Chapter Sixteen

The bell for fifth period was moments away, so I went to my locker to get my Spanish book. Andy was leaning against it, waiting for me. “I got to get to class,” I warned him, motioning for him to move aside so I could open my locker. The talk with Teresa had really bummed me out, and I was feeling guilty as hell.

“That’s okay. I have to get going too. I just wanted to see if…maybe you would like to hang out today after school?” Andy scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“I would love to, but I can’t. I have cheerleading practice after school.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

“How about after practice?” he suggested hopefully, unwilling to give up just yet.

I felt terrible for saying no again, but tonight was my last night before tryouts, and I needed to practice for the big day and get a good night’s rest. I told him that, trying not to feel guilty when I saw the disappointed look on his face.

“How about we hang out this weekend?” I suggested instead. He perked back up. I reached for his left hand and pulled it toward mine. Using an ink pen, I scribbled my number on the back of his hand in big, loopy numbers.

“Gotta go.” I slipped my backpack over my shoulder and took off down the hall.

I planted my butt into my seat just as the bell rang for Spanish. Thank God I wasn’t late; the last thing I needed to do was tick off Mr. Thompson again. I was already on his bad side.

Speaking of being late, I caught a glimpse of two people through the open bay window, running through the courtyard frantically. They were obviously late getting back to class. I’d recognize that unusual haircut and handsome bod anywhere. It was Amanda and Ronnie.

So, that explains why she wasn’t at lunch
, I realized, rolling my eyes resentfully. If Amanda did make the cheerleading squad, I could see her getting into trouble fast with Coach Davis. Students weren’t allowed to be outside or off the premises during lunch hours.

Oh well.
It’s none of my business what they do anymore
, I thought with a sigh. As much as I tried not to let it bother me, I stewed on it the whole period, clenching my teeth as I imagined them together.

Chapter Seventeen

The rest of my classes flew by, and when the final bell chimed, I made my way to the gym for day four of tryouts. Sydney was standing inside the doors, leaning up against a wall padded with gym mats.
Probably waiting for her new pal, Genevieve
. I strolled right past her, heading to the locker room to change.

“Dakota, wait!” Sydney jogged to catch up with me. I turned to face her, defensively placing my hands on my hips.

“Look, I’m sorry. And I miss you,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. I let out a deep sigh.

“I miss you too. I don’t understand why you’ve been acting this way.” I searched her face for some sort of explanation.

“I guess I was jealous about you hanging out with Amanda. And Genevieve has been doing everything in her power to keep me by her side. She said that if I want to make the team I need to stick by her, and do all of my practicing with her,” she revealed, her face reddening in embarrassment. “I’m a nervous wreck about tryouts tomorrow, and I really need my best friend back.”

“I need you too.” I reached out and gave her a hug.

We stood there for several moments, enjoying our embrace.
Thank God I finally have my friend back
, I thought cheerily. However, our sweet little moment was interrupted by the sound of Coach Davis’s whistle.

“Line up for suicides, girls!”

We all groaned in unison.

We headed over to the left-hand side of the court. Genevieve was staring at Sydney, giving her the evil eye for talking to me.
What a crazy bitch!
I thought, shaking my head and staring down at my feet, ready to get this running over with.

As we waited for another whistle to signal our start, Amanda came running into the gym. “Sorry I’m late!” She dropped her bag on the sidelines. She scurried over to where we were standing, joining us on the line.

“Since you were late, your teammates can thank you by doing an extra fifty push-ups, on top of the hundred they already have to do.” There were more groans all around, and Amanda looked mortified.

“Coach?” Genevieve stepped forward, raising her hand like she was in class.

“Yes, Genevieve?” There was a note of irritation in Coach’s voice.

“On behalf of everyone here, I just want to let you know that Amanda left the school premises with a boy today during our lunch hour. I don’t mean to be a tattle tale, but I don’t want someone who breaks school rules on
my
team. I thought you had a right to know,” she said, stepping back in line. She looked from side to side, smiling at the girls standing next to her. She couldn’t wipe that smug look off her face even if she tried.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly. I braced myself for Coach’s reaction to this piece of information. Even though I was ticked off at Amanda for hanging out with Ronnie, I didn’t really want to see her get in trouble or kicked out of tryouts. I stole a glance at her face. Amanda’s face was crimson, and she was staring at her feet shamefully.

Coach Davis’s eyes traveled up and down the line of girls before she opened her mouth to speak. “Like you said, Genevieve, this
is
a team. And although I understand not wanting one of your possible fellow squad members to break the rules, I also suspect that your team members don’t want to cheer with someone who tries to get her own teammates in trouble.” That shut Genevieve up real quick.

Hooray for Coach Davis! I enjoyed seeing someone stand up to Genevieve. I had to stifle a laugh.
It serves her right,
I thought, wearing my own smug smile. I was starting to like Coach Davis more and more.