Bevan vs. Evan Read online

  “Well,” she said brightly. “Now that we’re finally alone, I figured we could catch up. Anything new?”

  Man, she was not giving up easily.

  I shrugged, trying to be all casual. “Not really. Same stuff.”

  I could see Mom frown a little, out of the corner of my eye. “You’ve been spending a lot of time in your room lately.”

  “Oh, yeah. Just working on some sewing stuff.”

  “Anything I can see yet?”

  Ugh. The worst part about lying is when the person you’re lying to asks for evidence. And I haven’t a “stitch” (ha-ha!).

  When I got back home, I decided to distract myself from thinking about my weird night with Evan by leafing through all my fashion mags for inspiration. Which of course got me to thinking about the dance and whether or not Bevan will actually ask me. I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t. We are still, like, dating and all (we even have an actual date coming up). But if that’s the case, then I just don’t understand WHAT IS TAKING HIM SO LONG?!? Does he want to be the only one on the soccer team going alone? And why the heck am I worrying about this dress anyway if I’m gonna end up not going to the dance at all? Cuz honestly, the more I think about it, if Bevan doesn’t ask me, I’m just gonna stay home. Lanie’s right. Sitting next to Abby Lincoln on the bleachers is not a fun way to spend a Friday night.

  As I was flipping through one of my mags, I found the CUTEST sparkly dress in one of the editorials. It was strapless (which is usually not my thing), with a black sequin top and a tiered cream-colored skirt. The skirt had the coolest pattern, and it looked kind of like a tutu. And on top of that it was covered in sequins—but not the cheesy kind. It was SUPER adorable.

  I snapped a picture of the dress and sent it to Lanes. In the subject line of the e-mail I wrote, “What do u think?”

  “Ohmigod, luvs!”

  Yippee!! Okay, so I may not get this boy thing right, but at least I know a thing or two about looking supercute. Next thing I’d have to do was find a pattern. And material! Ack. Lots to do, but I am swearing here and now that I will try my hardest to not get down in the dumps over this Bevan/dance thing. As they say in cheer, P-O-S-I-T-I-V-I-T-Y is the way to be!

  Friday, February 18

  Midmorning, girls’ bathroom (freshening up from secret workout)

  Song Level:

  (Feelin’ the) Blood, Sweat, and Cheers

  This morning Lanie came sprinting down the hall while I was at my locker. Lanie doesn’t normally sprint (or do anything that might require her heart to pump fast), so I knew something was going on.

  “Ohmigod, good, you’re here!”

  I looked around me. “Yeah, where else would I be?”

  Lanie gulped a few breaths of air. “Sorry,” she said with a smile. “I meant I was hoping you’d still be by your locker.”

  “Hey, girls,” said Evan, plopping down his bag. He reclined against the locker next to me and took out his sketchbook.

  “Oh, good. Evan’s here too. So you can both hear my big news!”

  We both looked up at her expectantly. Not only does Lanie not do anything remotely athletic (unless she’s in phys ed), but she also doesn’t really get excited about things. Usually. Unless the latest issue of Poet’s Weekly comes out with her favorite author or something.

  Lanie looked at Evan and me to make sure we both had all eyes on her. “Okay,” she said. “So I should have known something was up the other day because Marc Derris was acting kind of weird to me. Like, being super nice and everything.”

  “Slow down. Marc Derris? Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Oh, sorry,” said Lanie. “He’s on the Daily Angeles with me.”

  Evan, who I could tell at this point was getting a tad uncomfortable, since this convo was obviously entering girl-talk territory, actually piped up, “I know Marc. He’s in science with me.”

  Lanie nodded. “Anyway, in our meeting last night, Mr. Samuels was deciding who should write what article, and I wasn’t getting any of the assignments. Then the last assignment came up, and it was about the Sunshine Dance. I could tell Mr. Samuels was going to give it to Ricky, because he always writes the ‘fun’ articles. So I was about to give Mr. Samuels a piece of my mind when Marc was like, ‘I think Lanie would do a great job writing that one.’ And he was looking at me funny when he said it. Kind of in an intense way. And even though ‘fun’ isn’t usually my area of expertise, I agreed. I mean, I’d have an interesting perspective, since I’m not like one of those school-dance-obsessed people.”

  “Um, we’ll have to reserve judgment on that until you finish your story,” I joked. “Okay, so you’re excited about the article, or something else?”

  Lanie shook her head in frustration. “No! I mean, yes, I am. But, I don’t know, I kind of got the feeling Marc was hinting at something more than just the article. Like maybe he kind of likes me.”

  I caught Evan glancing at me when Lanie said the word “like.”

  “You want me to talk to him? Mano a mano?” teased Evan.

  “Do and I’ll get you back in your sleep!” Lanie hissed.

  “Okay, okay,” Evan said, backing away with his hands up in surrender. “I was just messing around. Girl it up to your hearts’ content, I’m outta here. See you at lunch.”

  I watched Evan as he walked away, only to see him turn at the last minute and look at me. Lanie was too excited to notice.

  We started walking to our classes. “That’s great, Lanes, but do you like this guy? I’ve never heard you mention him before.”

  The corners of Lanie’s lips curled up into a smile. “I didn’t like him before, but it was so weird. After he spoke up for me, and then looked at me that way, I saw him . . . I don’t know. It was just different.”

  I nodded. I totally knew what she was talking about.

  “So maybe he’ll ask you to the dance?”

  Lanie got this dazed, dreamy look on her face. Then it was like a switch had turned off, and that dreamy look was gone. “Yeah, well, who knows? It doesn’t really matter. Whatever.”

  I could tell she was trying desperately to keep her excitement level at zero. (Maybe she can teach me how to do that?)

  I met up with Katie during the free period that we both have. We’re supposed to actually go to the library and study during free periods, but we already spoke to Principal Gershon about it. Katie had a brilliant idea to tell Principal G. that we, as captains, were planning a special surprise for our teams, and that we needed privacy to work on it. We told her we were hoping to use one of the classrooms that wasn’t being used. If Principal G. actually went to a school game or two, she’d know that this was kind of a bogus idea, but she seemed too distracted with the papers on her desk to question it. “Yes, sure, have fun,” she said, waving us out of the office. “Just make sure you make it on time to your next class.”

  Score!

  So Katie and I met up in our “secret” classroom. I was a little worried that someone might see us practicing there, and my secret would be out. I was especially worried that someone might be Hilary. Or worse, Clementine.

  “Trust me,” said Katie, tying her shoelaces tighter. “When Hilary and Clementine aren’t in class, they don’t even look at a classroom door. I practically have to text them to remind them to go to their classes.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right,” I said warily. “Speaking of Clementine, what’s her deal? Why is she so mean all the time?”

  Katie looked a little uncomfortable. “She’s not always that way.”

  “Really? Could have fooled me.”

  “When you get to know her, she can be a really good friend. She’s always there for me.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It seems like she goes out of her way to make people feel terrible, particularly me.”

  Katie took a seat on one of the desks. “There’s something you should know about Clem. She wasn’t always like this. But her mom is, like, one of those moms who is always pushing their
kids to be the best, and she says the meanest things to her.”

  “Really? I thought her life was, like, perfect.”

  Katie shook her head, and her eyes widened. “Yeah, right. Once, we had this competition, and Clem was so nervous that her mom would be disappointed in her if she messed up that she stayed up all night practicing, and when it came time to compete, she actually did mess up from being so exhausted. Her mom literally stormed out of the arena and wouldn’t talk to her for days.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, I think she just doesn’t really get that being nasty to someone isn’t okay. She sees how her mom behaves toward her—and since she knows her mom loves her, she thinks that’s normal. But she is one of my best friends. Maybe one day you’ll see.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but honestly, I’m not so sure. “So, what’s on the menu for today?” I said, changing the subject.

  Katie smiled. “Well, first we have to move some of this junk,” she said, looking at the old desks and filing cabinets that cluttered the room. It looked like this was where school furniture went to die.

  We cleared enough space for us to be able to do a couple of more contained stunts. It’s not ideal, but it’s what we have to work with. Once that was done, Katie and I did our own stretches. Katie must be the most flexible person in the whole school. She can touch her ankle to her head, keeping her leg perfectly straight. It looks awesome on the top of a pyramid.

  “What are you, Gumby?” I asked her.

  Katie giggled. “Oh, I’ve always been able to do this. I’m naturally flexible. I think that’s what made me like dance and gymnastics so much—it came kind of naturally.” She shrugged.

  Ooh, jealous. The only thing on my body that bends without any pain or training is my floppy ears. “Lucky.”

  “Okay, so I know you’re going to think this is baby stuff, but we’re gonna work on the fundamentals. Coach Whipley is insane about proper form and technique. She hates when a cheerleader knows the hardest stunts but can’t do a proper toe touch.”

  “I get it. We’re always reviewing that stuff with the Grizzlies, too.”

  “Well,” said Katie, “we’re not just going to review it. We’re going to perfect it.”

  We practiced toe touches and pikes for almost an hour. I don’t know how I’m going to manage Grizzly practice later. T.G. I have a little time to decompress until then.

  “Katie! My legs feel like JELL-O!” I said, massaging my thighs.

  Katie smiled triumphantly and took a bow. “Then my job is done,” she said. “I mean, for now.”

  “Ha-ha,” I said. “So was I really bad at this stuff and I just didn’t know it?” My cheer ego was feeling a little deflated.

  Katie patted me on the back. “Not at all. But I want you to really knock everyone’s socks off at tryouts, so I’m making you work super hard on this stuff. You’ll see. There’s a method to my madness.”

  I wiped the beads of sweat from my forehead. “Guess I know where Jacqui learned her drill sergeant style from.”

  “You got it,” she said, with a wink. She went over to her bag and pulled out a pocket mirror, examining her hair. “Ugh, I look like a wet rat,” she said, adjusting her nearly perfect braid.

  I rolled my eyes. “Puh-leez. You look like you took a light jog down the hallway. I, on the other hand, must look like I ran a marathon.”

  Katie cocked her head as she looked at me. “Here,” she said, handing me her mirror. “Try some powder.”

  Usually I’m not one to care how I look after practice, but since I’m technically not supposed to be practicing, I had to do some damage control.

  “Thanks.”

  Just then, the bell rang. “I think this was a good start, don’t you?”

  “Oh yeah. That was great, Katie. Thanks!”

  We decided to leave the room separately. I felt like we were spies or something, with all this secretive planning.

  Katie left first, and I followed about twenty seconds later. Luckily, the coast was clear. I needed to get to the girls’ room stat and fix the rest of my post-workout look. But as I was booking it to the nearest bathroom, who did I see but Mr. Disappearing Act himself: Bevan.

  He was standing in a group of his soccer friends. What a surprise! I totally could have snuck past him, but I was worried one of his friends would notice and be like, “Um, why is Maddy pretending not to see you?” I don’t care what his friends think, I just don’t want them to think it out loud. I decided to be brave and go up to him to say hi. I smoothed my hair and put a smile on my face as I approached the group. He didn’t even see me there. One of his friends gave me the “whassup” head nod, but Bevan didn’t notice. They were talking about some strategy another school’s team had used to win a game, and Bevan was leading the discussion. I stood there looking majorly awkward, waiting for Bevan to say something, but no such luck. Finally, I spoke up.

  “Hey, guys,” I said.

  Bevan looked at me in total surprise. Really?!? “Whoa, Maddy. Where’d you come from?”

  “Social studies,” I deadpanned. I know I could have been friendlier, but I wasn’t feeling like it just then.

  “Dude,” said his friend Mike. “She’s been standing here for, like, an hour.”

  Um, not so much. But whatever, I think it got the point across.

  Bevan flushed, looking clearly embarrassed. “Wow, I must have been on another planet.”

  I nodded, trying to not show that I was hurt at having been so obviously ignored. I felt like such a loser. An invisible loser.

  But then Bevan smiled at me. Not just any smile. Like he was smiling at the best thing in the world kind of smile. If he could radiate light, it would have been giving me a sunburn. That loser feeling left me as I basked in the glow. I’m SUCH a sucker. And right there in front of all his friends he was like, “So I’m gonna see you tonight, right? Bowling for beginners?”

  Mike let out a low snicker. “Bowling?”

  Bevan gave him a look that would have sent a lion scurrying away.

  “You got it,” I said. “After practice, right?” I’m kind of excited to show off my mad bowling skillz. Is that totally dorky? Oh well.

  “Great.” Bevan beamed back at me.

  I walked away feeling just a little bit better about the whole interaction, but I still have this nagging feeling. . . . Why did it take so long for him to notice me? Is he that hooked on soccer stuff that he is blind to everything else?

  In the bathroom, I took a good look in the mirror. Maybe he didn’t recognize me—I looked like a DISASTER!

  NIGHTTIME, BEDFORDSHIRE

  I didn’t even have a chance to get too excited about our bowling date tonight because right before practice, Bevan came up to me with a very apologetic look on his face. I immediately knew something was up.

  “What’s going on?” I asked him. I didn’t have a lot of time to chat. Practice would be starting any minute.

  “Um,” he said, running his hands through his wavy brown hair.

  “Yeah?” I said, trying not to laugh. Sometimes I laugh when I’m nervous. I could tell he was nervous too.

  “Man, I am so sorry to do this, Maddy, but I have to cancel on bowling tonight.”

  “Okayyyy,” I said, doing my best not to look disappointed.

  “You understand, right?” he said pleadingly. “The guys want to go as late as possible tonight. I can’t really say no, you know? But I hate to cancel on you so last minute.”

  “It’s fine, whatever. Look, I gotta get to practice,” I replied icily.

  Bevan wrinkled his brow. “I’m really sorry,” he said again.

  Whatever. It isn’t the first time he’s canceled on me for something soccer related. I know I probably should have been more understanding, since I’ve had to give up certain social things for cheer. But I always make sure to strike a balance. AND I don’t keep canceling on the same person, either. Oh, and one more thing: I ALWAYS make it up to the peop
le I cancel on.

  T.G. I had practice to lift my spirits. Today we settled on what song we are going to dance to for the routine. Everyone had their own ideas about what would work best.

  Jacqui sat everyone in a circle before we started our usual warm-up.

  “Okay, so I’m going to go around the room, and everyone will give their idea for a song. Then we’ll go over each one and raise our hands in a vote to pick the winner. Good?”

  Everyone nodded yes.

  “Madison, you start.”

  “I say ‘Firework’ by Katy Perry.”

  Jacqui smiled. I know she likes that one too.

  “Ian?”

  Ian looked at Matt. “This is a joint submission, so it has to count twice.”

  “Okay,” said Jacqui.

  “‘Bottoms Up,’” said Ian.

  “Nicki Minaj and Trey Songz, whassup?” Matt said, giving Ian a high five.

  “Guys, I don’t think Principal Gershon will allow a song about drinking at the school dance,” I said. What morons.

  “That’s our vote,” said Ian with a shrug.

  Tabitha Sue voted for Justin Bieber’s “One Less Lonely Girl.”

  “Does that feel fast enough to dance to?” Diana asked.

  Tabitha Sue put her finger on her lips, thinking. “Sure,” she said hesitantly. “We could maybe find a club version that’s faster?”

  “Well, I think we should do ‘Teenage Dream,’” said Diane indignantly.

  Ian and Matt groaned in protest.

  Jared of course chose “On Any Sunday.” Everyone rolled their eyes.

  Jacqui put her song in last. “It was a no-brainer for me. ‘Born This Way.’ I’m a huge Lady Gaga fan.” She smiled.

  “What about Coach?” asked Matt in a half-joking kind of way. “Is she putting in a song request? Hey, Coach C!” he shouted at Mom. “Want to place a vote?”

  Mom spoke up from the sidelines. “I don’t think you’ll appreciate my vote,” she shouted back, shaking her head. “Unless you like nineties rock.”