Coach Walker lifted the phone off the desktop and pushed the screen into Devra’s face. “Did you send these threatening messages to Gretchen?”
Devra squinted at them, moving her lips silently as she read the messages. She raised her eyes to Coach Walker. “No way. I didn’t send those.”
The coach held the phone in front of Devra, held it steadily in front of Devra’s face. “Look at the top of the screen, Devra,” she said in a whisper. “That’s your phone number at the top.”
“I swear I didn’t send those messages,” Devra said, her face bright pink. “Someone took my phone. My phone has been missing.”
Gretchen felt a chill run down her back. What a good liar she is. Look at that innocent, wide-eyed expression on her face. If she didn’t send the texts, why is she blushing?
“After the tryout,” Devra said. “The phone wasn’t in my backpack. I think someone stole it.”
“Someone on the squad?” Coach Walker demanded.
Devra shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know my phone was gone. Ask Courtney. She’ll tell you I’m telling the truth. She helped me look for the phone, but we never found it.”
Devra turned her gaze on Gretchen and her features tightened in anger. “You can’t accuse me. I didn’t do it. Do you think I’m crazy? Do you really think I’d send you a death threat? That’s sick.”
Gretchen opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“You’re sick,” Devra said. “Did you send those texts to yourself? Did you send them to make me look bad? To get me in trouble and out of your way?” Devra was red-faced, screaming now. “It won’t work, sicko. Because I didn’t send them. I didn’t! I didn’t!”
Gretchen glared back at her without speaking.
She’s lying. It’s obvious. She’s totally lying.
16.
The next day, Stacy met Coach Walker at her office in the gym. “I think this is going to be a very short meeting,” Stacy said. “We both know which girl is the better cheerleader. It isn’t a real puzzler, is it?”
Stacy was surprised by the grim expression on the coach’s face. “I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, Stacy,” she said, avoiding Stacy’s gaze. “If it was just up to you and me…” Her voice trailed off.
Stacy turned when she heard footsteps thudding across the gym floor. She saw Sid striding quickly toward them. Sid gave her a quick wave as he poked his head into the office. “Is there practice today, Coach Walker? Should I get out any equipment?”
“I made the announcement yesterday, Sid. No practice today.” Coach Walker couldn’t hide her impatience. “Stacy and I are meeting about the tryout and who will make the squad.”
Sid grinned. “Do I get a vote?”
Coach Walker made a shooing motion with one hand. “Go away.”
“I can take a hint,” Sid said.
Stacy grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. “See you later?”
“Sure.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and jogged out of the gym.
“Where were we?” Walker said. She checked her watch. “We have to go to Mr. Hernandez’ office.”
Stacy blinked. “Excuse me? He’s meeting with us? About the tryout?”
Coach Walker nodded. “He instructed me not to make a decision about the cheerleader position until he had a chance to speak to me.” She hesitated. “Actually, he didn’t want you at the meeting. He said it wasn’t anything for a student to hear.”
Stacy blinked. “Really?”
“But I reminded him that you are the captain of the squad,” Walker said, “and you have a vote. I insisted that you be there. He finally said okay, if you promise to keep it all confidential.”
“Wow.” Stacy didn’t know what else to say.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you all this,” Walker said. “But I think it’s important for the captain of the squad to know what’s what.”
Stacy swept her hand back through her hair. “This is totally weird.”
“I know,” Walker said. She clicked off her desk lamp and stood up. “Come on. Hernandez gets cranky if you keep him waiting.”
* * *
Principal Hernandez was a big man with a big rectangular head, topped with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. He wore thick black-framed glasses that made his gray eyes appear to bulge like frog eyes. A short goatee, more gray than black, framed his square chin.
Hernandez had been a football lineman in college, and he kept in shape, his gray suits tight, almost unable to contain his bulging shoulders. He looked like a hulking giant of a man, and with his bulging eyes, his expression always appeared menacing, sour. But Shadyside High students knew him to be gentle and soft-spoken. No one ever saw him raise his voice or shout in anger.
He greeted Stacy and Coach Walker at the door, a coffee mug in one hand. “Come in.” His expression was solemn as he led them through the front reception area to his office in back.
Hernandez pushed the door closed and motioned for them to take the leather guest chairs that faced his desk, cluttered with papers and files. “How are you, Stacy?” he asked, dropping heavily into his desk chair. “I saw your parents at the Fall Carnival at Shadyside General last week.”
Stacy spread her hands over the soft leather arms of the chair. “Yes. My mom is on the board of the hospital,” she said.
“We had a nice talk, mostly about you,” Hernandez said, shoving a stack of files to the edge of the desk.
“That’s nice,” Stacy said awkwardly.
All through the conversation, Hernandez hadn’t smiled. His eyes went from Stacy to Coach Walker. He tilted back in his chair and raised a hand to scratch the top of his head.
“I’m afraid you may not like what I have to say,” he told the coach
“About the cheerleading tryouts?” Coach Walker asked, shifting her weight in the chair.
Hernandez nodded.
“Is there a problem?” the coach asked.
Hernandez nodded again. He remained silent for a long moment. He appeared to be thinking of how to begin.
“I just got off the phone with Daniel Dalby,” he said finally. “Devra’s father.” He paused, watching for Stacy or the coach to react.
But they both sat still, their faces expressionless.
Hernandez cleared his throat and leaned forward, his arms crossed on the desktop. “Perhaps you’re not aware of this, but Daniel Dalby is the biggest contributor to the school’s development fund every year. The Dalby family donates more than a third of our budget.”
“Whew.” Coach Walker blew out a whoosh of air. “Very generous.”
“Very generous and very needed by us,” Hernandez said. Behind his glasses, his eyes were wary. As if he expected trouble.
“Mr. Dalby has been on the phone with me more than once in the past week,” he continued. “He wanted to tell me how important being on the cheerleader squad is to Devra’s college plans.”
Hernandez cleared his throat again. “Seems Devra is desperate to go to Princeton and thinks extra-curricular points from cheerleading will help sway the university to accept her.”
“But Mr. Hernandez—” Coach Walker started to protest.
He raised a hand to silence her.
“I know you held a tryout last week between Devra and the new girl, Gretchen Page. Can you tell me your feelings about the tryout?”
“Gretchen was a lot better,” Stacy said, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“I think Stacy and I agree that Gretchen is a far better performer and a much more skilled athlete than Devra,” Coach Walker said.
Hernandez frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He lowered his eyes to the desk, as if avoiding their stares. “Because I’m afraid I have to step in here. I promised Daniel Dalby that Devra will be chosen for the squad.”
Stacy gasped. Coach Walker’s mouth tightened in anger. “That isn’t right,” she said. “Gretchen is a hard worker and a talented cheerleader.”
“She’s rea
lly awesome,” Stacy chimed in. “Gretchen could take us to the state finals. She really could.”
Again, Hernandez raised his hand. “I’m really sorry. But I don’t care if she’s an Olympic gymnast. We have to give the spot to Devra. I hope you’ll understand. The school cannot afford to lose one-third of our development money. We just can’t.”
Stacy’s mouth hung open. She suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe. This was so unfair … so wrong.
Coach Walker pulled herself more erect. She appeared to stiffen in her chair, her jaw clenched. She tugged at one ear. “Am I really hearing this correctly?” she said finally, her voice just above a whisper. “We’re going to give this spot to Devra because her family is rich?”
“I hope you won’t make a fuss about this, Violet,” Hernandez said. “Don’t think I feel good about it. Because I don’t. But I have to do what’s right for the school. Sometimes reality means you have to make a hard decision. And my decision stands.”
He gazed from the coach to Stacy. “You’ve promised not to discuss this with anyone, am I right?”
Stacy nodded. “Yes.”
Walker opened her mouth to say something—but stopped. Her eyes were on the office doorway. Stacy and Hernandez followed her gaze.
And saw the door open a little more than a crack—and Gretchen Page standing with her face poking through the opening.
“Gretchen!” Coach Walker cried. “How long have you been standing there?
17.
“It’s so unfair,” Gretchen complained to Madison. “I just can’t believe they did it to me.”
“I can’t, either,” Madison replied, taking Gretchen’s arm. “Do you want to drown your troubles with a Cinnabon? Or with some cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory?”
They were wandering through the Division Street Mall because Madison thought it might help Gretchen if she got out of the house. Gretchen had been locked in her room, pouting and pacing the floor, muttering to herself and shaking her fists at the mirror.
“I didn’t cry,” she told Madison. “I was too angry to cry.”
“No one would blame you if you cried,” Madison said. “You were robbed, Gretchen. It was worse than robbery. It wasn’t fair in any way.”
“I-I don’t know how I’m going to get over this,” Gretchen stammered. “I-I worked so hard. It meant so much to me. I know I could take this squad to the state tournament. I just know it. And now…”
“And now, Cinnabon or cheesecake?” Madison said.
Gretchen chose cheesecake. They made their way into the restaurant. The hostess led them to a booth against the back wall and dropped enormous menus on the table.
“We don’t need menus,” Madison told her. “We just want to bury ourselves in tall mountains of cheesecake.”
“Your server will be with you in a second,” the hostess said. She poured ice water into the two glasses on the table.
Gretchen tilted the glass to her mouth and took a long drink. She brushed a strand of blonde hair off her forehead. “I promise I’m going to stop talking about this soon. Seriously.”
“Go ahead and vent,” Madison said. “What are friends for?”
“Everyone saw that I’m a better cheerleader than Devra,” Gretchen said, spinning the water glass between her hands. “Everyone knows it.”
“Well,” Madison said, “won’t she feel like a total fake performing with the other cheerleaders, knowing she had to buy the spot?”
Gretchen shrugged. “Who knows what Devra feels?”
Madison patted the back of Gretchen’s hand. “At least, you’ll practice with the squad. If someone gets hurt or can’t make a game, you’ll have your chance.”
Gretchen didn’t seem to hear Madison. Her eyes had a faraway look. “Devra was so mean … so vicious,” she said. “Those horrible texts she sent.… Putting something awful in my water bottle so I’d throw up in front of everyone. What kind of person does that to someone?”
“A bad person?” Madison said. “I’m just guessing here.”
Gretchen didn’t laugh.
“Hey, I’m trying to get you to smile,” Madison said. “What Hernandez did was horrible. But you’ll still be with the squad. And look on the bright side. Maybe now that she has the spot on the squad, Devra will stop playing all those dirty tricks on you.”
Gretchen had that faraway look again. She remained silent and still for a long moment. And then she murmured in a soft whisper: “I still have the knife.”
Madison blinked. She leaned closer to Gretchen across the table. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“I still have the knife,” Gretchen whispered. And then her eyes appeared to come back into focus. She stared uncertainly at Madison.
“What knife?” Madison demanded.
Gretchen shook her head. “Knife? Did I say something about a knife?”
“Are you okay?”
Gretchen forced a smile. “I was daydreaming. Really. I don’t know why I said that. Just crazy, that’s all. I don’t have a knife. Only in my dreams. I guess I was remembering the dreams.”
“Y-you … scared me,” Madison stammered. “Your face got all weird and—”
Gretchen sighed. “Let’s change the subject. How are you doing with your practice for the string quartet assembly?”
The two chatted through tall slices of cherry cheesecake and Rocky Road cheesecake. At times, their talk was awkward with long silences. Gretchen tried, but she just couldn’t pull herself out of her thoughts about Devra and the cheerleaders.
As Madison talked about fall term exams, Gretchen found herself thinking about Sid. Aside from her new friendship with Madison, Sid was one of the few bright spots in her new life in Shadyside.
She thought about how he wrapped her in his arms on the couch in her living room … how understanding he was … how thoughtful, and how he kissed her with such feeling … long, urgent kisses.
Gretchen didn’t blame Stacy for wanting to hold onto him. But Sid assured Gretchen he was trying to get through to Stacy, trying to convince her that he was serious about ending things.
And then it will be Sid and me.
Gretchen knew if she could just keep her thoughts on Sid, she would feel a lot better … concentrate on the positive. But it was so difficult.
And then there he was.
“Oh, wow.” Gretchen gazed to the front of the restaurant and saw the hostess leading a tall boy in a denim jacket and black straight-legged jeans to a table. The boy had his hand on the waist of a girl with long black curls down past the shoulders of her blue sleeveless top.
It took only a few seconds to recognize Sid.
Gretchen stared at the hand he had on the girl’s waist, guiding her to the table.
Madison caught Gretchen’s stare. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Sid,” Gretchen said. “And he’s with another girl.” She slid to the edge of the seat and jumped up from the booth.
“Gretchen?” Madison called. “Hey, Gretchen. Where are you going? Come back here. What are you doing?”
18.
Gretchen heard her friend shouting after her, but she didn’t turn around. Her heart pounding, the cheesecake suddenly making her stomach feel heavy as lead, she stomped through the narrow aisle toward the table. Sid was just sitting down. The girl already had her menu raised in front of her.
Too much bad news, Gretchen found herself thinking. First I’m cheated out of my cheerleader spot. Then …
She took a deep breath. She wanted to act calm, nonchalant in front of Sid and this girl. She didn’t want to act like a crazy person. After all, she and Sid didn’t really have any kind of understanding.
He had indicated in every way that he was dumping Stacy for her. Gretchen hadn’t imagined that. She wasn’t jumping to conclusions. The way he kissed her that day …
She strode up to the table and gripped the back of the empty chair with both hands. “Hey, Sid—” She felt pleased that her voice didn’t tremb
le.
The girl had big, dark blue eyes. They grew wide as she returned Gretchen’s gaze. Her hair was beautiful, Gretchen thought. Long strands of of shiny black curls that caught the light from overhead and glistened like starlight.
Sid didn’t show any surprise. “Gretchen, hi. How’s it going? Are you feeling any better about the cheerleader thing?”
“Not really,” she replied. He didn’t seem eager to introduce her to this new girl. She motioned with her eyes, thinking maybe he’d take the hint.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, setting down the tall menu. “This is my cousin Maya.”
His cousin?
They did have the same dark hair. They were both tall and thin.
“Maya lives in Martinsville,” Sid explained. “We don’t get to hang out that often.”
His cousin.
Gretchen suddenly felt a lot lighter. “Nice to meet you,” she said, forcing a smile.
Sid motioned to the empty chair. “Want to join us?”
“Oh. No. I can’t,” Gretchen said. “I’m here with Madison.” She pointed.
“Well, okay. See you,” Sid said.
“Nice to meet you,” Gretchen said to Maya. Had she already said that? She turned and made her way back to Madison.
Behind her, she heard Maya ask Sid, “Who was that?”
A baby started crying at the table beside her and drowned out Sid’s reply.
“It’s his cousin,” she told Madison, sliding back into the booth.
“Really?”
“I think so,” Gretchen said. “I don’t think he’d lie to me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself with Sid,” Madison said.
“Excuse me? What does that mean?”
“It means don’t get ahead of yourself with Sid.”
* * *
The text message came after school the next afternoon. Gretchen wondered why no one had mentioned a special meeting to her during the day.
She read the message twice to make sure she had it right:
Hey, it’s me Stacy
Important squad meeting.
Cheerleaders & alternate.
8 2night in the gym.
Don’t be late.