Cheerlebrity Confessions

Chapter 5

"Drop and give me twenty!" Coach Libby says. She tries to sound harsh, but it comes out more like a squeak. My muscles speed through the push-ups on cruise control. School cheers world's easier than All-Star. Instead of four miles,we run only one at practice. Instead of sets of fifty for conditioning, we only do a few sit-ups and push-ups. I finish the set and spring to my feet while some of the other girls struggle on.

"Great as always, Jamie," she says, smiling at me. She claps her hands, encouraging some of the stragglers to finish.

"Okay everyone! Take a minute, then we're starting stunting."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry I'm late!" A girl is running up to practice in the red Allen uniform. Everyone I know is here; most of the girls on the team were also on it last year. Who is this? As she gets closer, I see, with an unpleasant lurch in my stomach, that it's Alison Bridgetree. Of all the towns in Texas, it seems she's moved to mine.

Her brown hair is tied back in a perfect ponytail, smooth in the front and curly in the back. Her makeup makes her blue eyes look large and soft. She looks at me but doesn't say hi. It occurs to me that I only dislike her because she apparently knows Peyton before I did. That's unfair, though: how is that her fault? She's probably nice; I should be kind to her.

"Hi Alison," I say, smiling at her. "How are you?"

She gives me a brief glance. "Oh. hi."

Is it just me, or is her voice icy? Maybe she's just nervous since it's her first practice at her new school.

"Kay, everyone, let's try some extensions!" coach says. The new girls cast fearful glances at each other. It seems so formidable, to lift a girl into the air and keep her steady while she balances. But for me this is a piece of cake. I've been doing extensions since I was five years old. My bases are the same girls from last year, so I know I can trust them.

Coach takes some time to show the new girls how to load in their flyer's foot.

"It's okay if you don't get it on the first try," she says. "Actually, maybe everyone should just watch Jamie do it first. She's an expert!"

I try not to grin too much as I get into position with my bases.

"Five six sev-en eight!" coach counts, clapping the beats. I load my foot into their grip and they lift me into the air. My body is as straight as a telephone pole in the air, and I give the empty stands a smile so wide it almost hurts. Although I can't see them, I can sense the other girls staring at me in awe.

"Excellent!" she says as I comedown.

"Coach?" Alison asks. "How did you determine who's center flyer?"

I turn to stare at her. Why would she ask something like that.

"We decided that at try-outs. Jamie had the highest score, so it's her spot."

"But I moved her the day after try-outs. That's not fair."

"Maybe you can do an individual try-out after practice," coach says. I widen my eyes at her. I've been on this team for four years—not to mention that I'm easily the best. This is my year, my time to shine.

"I'm an All-Star cheerleader," Alison informs her. "I can do all the same stunts Jamie can."

"Well. Talk to me after practice," coach says. "Remember, everyone,tomorrow we're voting for team captain. So think about your choice tonight."

As I leave the field, I look reluctantly over my shoulder. Alison's talking to the coach in a low voice, probably pleading to replace me. I frown. She can't beat me; I'm one of the best fliers in this state. But still, she makes me nervous. Why is this new girl trying so hard to cause a problem?