still hadn’t picked his head up off the chair.
“Pops?”
“What?”
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m still trying to recuperate from my near heart attack.”
“Oh. Well, take your time.”
Riley, Marme, and I continued dinner over small talk until Pops finally regained his composure.
“I’m with you three,” he announced. “Less is more, at least in this particular situation. If you feel like you’ve got a handle on everything this winter, you can always go then. Or better yet, you can just wait till next fall like all your other friends. There’s nothing wrong with being a normal kid.”
“You’re assuming she was ever normal,” Riley teased.
“I was normal.”
“When?” he asked.
I stopped to think about it, and it took awhile because I had to go back quite a ways. “Preschool. I think I was pretty normal in preschool.”
“If you can call eating crayons normal.”
“It only happened once, Riley. They were the smelly kind, and I thought they were food.”
“So it wasn’t your sanity that was in question back then, it was your IQ?”
I threw a flour tortilla at him. “Enough out of you, or we won’t be taking any walks this evening.”
“You win.”
“Well, that didn’t take much,” Pops quipped.
Riley shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? The girl’s got skills.”
Pops scowled. “I don’t wanna know that.”
I rolled my eyes at him and took another bite of enchilada.
“Okay, then I’ll just say she holds all the power,” Riley said.
“They all do, son, and the sooner you figure that out, the better off you’re gonna be.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He picked up the flour tortilla and threw it back at me. “Oh yeah, did Attie tell you what tomorrow is?”
“No,” Marme said. “What’s tomorrow?”
I rolled my eyes again.
“What?” she asked.
“The team votes for captain.”
Marme practically jumped out of her chair in excitement. “Are you gonna win, Attie? I bet you are; I bet you’re gonna win!”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, she is,” Riley announced. “The girls are already talking about it. Just think, Attie’s gonna go from zero to hero in less than a week.”
“Hero?”
“You’re gonna be the captain of the cheerleading squad. In our school, that’s a big deal.”
Suddenly sick to my stomach, I dropped my fork onto my plate.
“I take it you aren’t excited?” Pops asked.
“What part of you thinks Tiffany Franks isn’t going to make my life a living hell if I win?”
“No part,” Pops said as he gave my leg a pat. “Prepare yourselves. I see a bumpy road ahead.”
chapter 10
My stomach felt like a light bulb lighting up the night sky as thousands of beetles flittered around the brightness. The nauseated feeling in the pit of my abdomen was understandable yet upsetting at the same time. Had it been any other circumstance, I would’ve been happy and excited to hear the announcement that was about to take place; but knowing the possible repercussions should things go my way, I was actually left hoping that I didn’t hear my name.
“And this year’s captain, with eleven out of eighteen votes, is … ” As Coach Tyler opened the envelope, I almost became physically ill. “Attie.”
I immediately shut my eyes and listened to the team scream and begin clapping. I didn’t want to see Tiffany’s face—hers or her fellow juicers.
“Juicers” was a term invented by Kent. It was used to identify anyone who followed Tiffany, Rick, or Wes. In other words, they were drinking the Tiffany Kool-Aid. When we discussed Tiffany or any of her groupies, we referred to them as “juicers.” Although it wasn’t the most loving term of endearment, it seemed to fit them perfectly.
I pulled out my notebook and wrote: I don’t deserve this.
“Congratulations, Attie,” Coach Tyler said, interrupting my writing. “Is there anything that you’d like to say?”
I squirmed a bit in my seat as I chewed on the
“Pops?”
“What?”
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m still trying to recuperate from my near heart attack.”
“Oh. Well, take your time.”
Riley, Marme, and I continued dinner over small talk until Pops finally regained his composure.
“I’m with you three,” he announced. “Less is more, at least in this particular situation. If you feel like you’ve got a handle on everything this winter, you can always go then. Or better yet, you can just wait till next fall like all your other friends. There’s nothing wrong with being a normal kid.”
“You’re assuming she was ever normal,” Riley teased.
“I was normal.”
“When?” he asked.
I stopped to think about it, and it took awhile because I had to go back quite a ways. “Preschool. I think I was pretty normal in preschool.”
“If you can call eating crayons normal.”
“It only happened once, Riley. They were the smelly kind, and I thought they were food.”
“So it wasn’t your sanity that was in question back then, it was your IQ?”
I threw a flour tortilla at him. “Enough out of you, or we won’t be taking any walks this evening.”
“You win.”
“Well, that didn’t take much,” Pops quipped.
Riley shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? The girl’s got skills.”
Pops scowled. “I don’t wanna know that.”
I rolled my eyes at him and took another bite of enchilada.
“Okay, then I’ll just say she holds all the power,” Riley said.
“They all do, son, and the sooner you figure that out, the better off you’re gonna be.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He picked up the flour tortilla and threw it back at me. “Oh yeah, did Attie tell you what tomorrow is?”
“No,” Marme said. “What’s tomorrow?”
I rolled my eyes again.
“What?” she asked.
“The team votes for captain.”
Marme practically jumped out of her chair in excitement. “Are you gonna win, Attie? I bet you are; I bet you’re gonna win!”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, she is,” Riley announced. “The girls are already talking about it. Just think, Attie’s gonna go from zero to hero in less than a week.”
“Hero?”
“You’re gonna be the captain of the cheerleading squad. In our school, that’s a big deal.”
Suddenly sick to my stomach, I dropped my fork onto my plate.
“I take it you aren’t excited?” Pops asked.
“What part of you thinks Tiffany Franks isn’t going to make my life a living hell if I win?”
“No part,” Pops said as he gave my leg a pat. “Prepare yourselves. I see a bumpy road ahead.”
chapter 10
My stomach felt like a light bulb lighting up the night sky as thousands of beetles flittered around the brightness. The nauseated feeling in the pit of my abdomen was understandable yet upsetting at the same time. Had it been any other circumstance, I would’ve been happy and excited to hear the announcement that was about to take place; but knowing the possible repercussions should things go my way, I was actually left hoping that I didn’t hear my name.
“And this year’s captain, with eleven out of eighteen votes, is … ” As Coach Tyler opened the envelope, I almost became physically ill. “Attie.”
I immediately shut my eyes and listened to the team scream and begin clapping. I didn’t want to see Tiffany’s face—hers or her fellow juicers.
“Juicers” was a term invented by Kent. It was used to identify anyone who followed Tiffany, Rick, or Wes. In other words, they were drinking the Tiffany Kool-Aid. When we discussed Tiffany or any of her groupies, we referred to them as “juicers.” Although it wasn’t the most loving term of endearment, it seemed to fit them perfectly.
I pulled out my notebook and wrote: I don’t deserve this.
“Congratulations, Attie,” Coach Tyler said, interrupting my writing. “Is there anything that you’d like to say?”
I squirmed a bit in my seat as I chewed on the
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