This choice: Warn Caleb of what's up. • Go Back...Chapter #70Of Tryouts and Tribulations by: Seuzz   You do your best to comfort Cindy, whose dream has been to follow her sister, Lucy, in becoming captain of the Westside cheerleader squad. It'll be worth forgoing that dream, you assure her, if it means getting Chelsea off the squad. Cindy smiles (though wanly) and kisses you (but chastely).
That's very nice. But all that time you're thinking, Gotta warn Caleb, gotta warn Caleb.
It's a little before nine o'clock before you can tear yourself away, though. You've already got your phone out as you pull into the first shopping center you pass on your way home. "Hello-oh!" Caleb chirps when you pick up.
You waste no time filling him in what you learned from Cindy. Some of it he will already know: That Chelsea intended to call for a vote of confidence in herself tomorrow morning, one which she was sure she could survive. But, you inform him, Kendra has arranged to double-cross Chelsea by giving her vote (and the vote of another cheerleader) to Cindy, which would give the rebels enough votes to oust her. "So," you conclude, "I know you said you weren't going to do anything to Cindy. But I just want to make sure that you know that you can't call that vote tomorrow. 'Cos you'll lose it."
Caleb is silent for a long moment. "Jesus," he says at last, in a low, angry voice. "Oh, God, I knew—! Chelsea knew that Kendra was a snake, but—! Oh, fuck!"
"So what are you gonna do?" You feel the small hairs rising on your back.
"I don't know," Caleb mumbles. (It sounds like he's chewing his fingernails.) "Fuck! I mean, I'd still be keeping the tits and the pussy, even if I'm not head cheerleader. You know? But fuck, I was really looking forward to swanning it around at school tomorrow, the way Chelsea does, rocking that whole 'I'm the head cheerleader and you're a sorry sack of shit' thing she does. Oh, God damn it!"
"Yeah, we weren't counting on all this drama when we picked who we wanted to be, were we?"
"Who's this 'we', dickface? I don't know what kind of drama you think you gotta worry about—"
"Uh, the tryouts tomorrow?"
"Fuck you. You got nothing to worry about there."
You gasp. "Even if I don't, there's still—"
"I don't wanna hear it, Will, I've got, like, eight hours to fix this mess with Kendra and Cindy."
"What's to fix? Just don't have that vote tomorrow!"
"It's not that easy," he retorts. "Look, thanks for the heads' up, I owe you bigly, but I gotta figure out what I'm gonna do about it. Shit, and this comes right when I was having fun posting photoshops of Kelsey eating dog food on x2z. I'll catch up to you later." He hangs up before you can reply.
Later, though, does not encompass tonight, and you go to bed without hearing back from him.
* * * * *
There's no message from him the next morning, either, but you've got other stuff to distract you. You arrive at school so early you even beat Patterson there. "You spend the night here?" he asks when he does arrive.
"Just wanted to get here early, see if you need any help." In the back of your head you're thinking, Don't be such a suck up, don't be such a suck up!
"Just don't embarrass yourself this morning," he says as he unlocks a side door into the gym. (Having a key of his own—another perk to being team captain.) "And that's for your sake, not mine." You glower at his back as you follow him in.
Everyone else shows up early too, so that team members and team hopefuls alike are dressed out and warming up a good ten minutes before practice is officially supposed to start. There's no chatter, no laughing, and certainly no smiling. There's a tension in the air, as of a bowstring being drawn very tight. You feel everyone watching everyone else out of the corners of their eyes, and naturally you contribute a few sidelong glances of your own.
Mostly, of course, you're interested in the Durras brothers, coming from Eastman. Frank is the taller of the two, and he moves with a power and confidence that puts you in mind of a locomotive. His eyes glint watchfully from under dark bangs as he sweeps the gym with a keen glance. His brother, Joe, looks a lot more cheerful and approachable, with a wide, bright and easy grin and shaggy blonde hair that hangs over his ears and tangles up in his brows.
You're not sure what to think of them, but Seth's instincts tell you to be careful.
But they're not the only guys who are joining practice for the tryouts. Paul Fitzgerald and Michael Metlock are there too, which doesn't surprise you, as they were on the JV squad but didn't make the cut for the varsity squad. Adam Dortch's is more of a surprise. He too played on the JV squad, but only through your sophomore year before dropping off it—and dropping most of his old friends—without explanation over the subsequent summer. So you have to wonder why he's trying to get back on.
The biggest surprise, though, has to be Will Prescott, who is stretching out by himself at no little distance from everyone else. Every one of the new applicants made it by impressing Steve in a set of qualifying trails. You can scarcely believe that Gordon did well enough with your old body that he made it this far, but the evidence is that he did.
The tension—which only increases as the minutes pass—is finally broken when Coach Brooks comes striding out of the PE offices with Patterson at his elbow. Seth hasn't seen much of the coach this season, and you're struck by how roly-poly he is. The elastic of his purple shorts is cutting deep into his gut, and his jowls are even jowlier. He is also very hairy (except on top, where his egg-like pate is very shiny) with caterpillar-like eyebrows and hairy knees.
His instructions are short and to the point: The competitors will be divided into two groups and work out on the two separate basketball courts, demonstrating their skills and stamina in a series of drills. "We'll wrap it all up with a little game," he concludes. "It's supposed to be fun, isn't it?" But his face shows no trace of amusement as he says it.
You're part of the group that's sent to the court on the other side of the mezzanine, and you're disappointed to see that the "new guys" will be staying behind. So is Jeremy, and he gives you a quick deer-in-the-headlights look as you turn to jog off after Patterson. With you, you notice, are the team members you'd bet on surviving the ordeal: Shuler and Sax and Nichols; Dylan Lloyd and Jonas Martin; Darren Green and Luke Bennett.
You're not given long to wonder about it, though, for Patterson almost instantly sets everyone to a hard jog around the perimeter of the court.
The mystery deepens forty minutes later when Patterson (after switching off supervisory duties with Coach Brooks) returns to send five of your guys onto the other court while bringing over four replacements. Jeremy is one of them, and during a quiet moment you ask him how things went on the other side. He shakes his head. "Fuck," he mutters in a very low voice. "Those Eastman guys are spooky good. An Dortch is like he's still in practice, too." He darts you a quick, worried look.
"What about—?" You jerk your head at Fitzgerald and Metlock, who accompanied Jeremy over, and who are looking very grim as they execute a gladiatorial-like one-on-one duel under Patterson's intense gaze. They look like they're trying, but their moves are clumsy.
"Pf, I'm better'n them," Jeremy mutters back. "If I get cut it won't be for one of them."
"You're not gonna get cut, man," you assure him, then button your lip as you catch Patterson glaring at you, so you don't get a chance to ask how Prescott did. A minute later, Patterson pulls Fitzgerald and Medlock out and puts Jeremy and Scott Frazier in. You're pleased to see that Jeremy more than holds his own. But you don't like the look on Steve's face as they fight it out.
* * * * *
"Keep your phones turned on this afternoon and tonight," Coach Brooks tells the assembled players when it's all over. "We won't try to keep you in suspense. Okay, shower and change, boys. No one wants your stink in a classroom."
The mood is very subdued at the lockers afterward, with none of the usual taunting horseplay. You accompany Jeremy out; at the door you're surprised when Shuler stops you and offers a friendly fist bump. Jeremy's brow is creased with worry when you turn back to him again. "Nothing," he says when you ask what's wrong. "I should feel good."
"Sure you should. You made it, I'm sure."
"No," he replies tonelessly. "I should feel good because it's over. I can't change the outcome now." You wince internally.
First period is a study hall for you, which Seth usually takes in the PE classroom under the gym mezzanine, so you return there after changing books at your locker. This gives you a chance to stare and grin at Cindy as she and her friends come out of the changing room for cheerleader practice. She returns you a confident smile of her own.
But that smile has vanished twenty minutes later when she charges into the classroom and flings herself into the chair across the table from you. You can only stare as her face twists up to fight back tears. She struggles for a moment, then runs from the room.
You're halfway out of your seat when a green-faced Yumi Saito comes in. "Oh, you're here," she says. "You better go after her."
"What happened?" you ask with a heart that's plunging downward like a falling elevator.
"Shit happened, that's what. Half the squad just got cut." She looks dazed as she says it.
"What?"
"It was like an ambush. Chelsea even waited for us to spring it. And she left it to Coach Tesla to drop the axe." You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author