The Cheerleaders(64)

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Sleep eluded Jen that night. She drifted off after midnight, only to wake a few hours later in a cold sweat. Jen touched her throat; for a moment she thought she was in the locker room, and Carly Amato had her hands around her neck, squeezing—

Jen tried to swallow. Her head was cottony and it felt like there were razor blades in her throat. She stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom she shared with her sister. One word broke through the haze in her head: sick.

She couldn’t be sick. Not today.

Jen blinked against the lights above the vanity mirror and opened her mouth wide. The back of her throat looked like raw meat.

The pep rally was after first period, only a few hours from now. Jen was a base; without her, Allie would have to rearrange the pyramid. An image fought through the pounding in her head. Allie, storming out of the locker room. Carly Amato sprawled on the floor, blood leaking from her mouth. There was the ghost of pain at Jen’s jaw from where one of them had rammed her with an elbow.

Jen fumbled through the contents of the vanity cabinet until she found a box of cold medicine. She popped a horse-sized pill out of the foil. Her body struggled against swallowing it.

Her mother was shaking her awake. Jen rolled over, the back of her neck and pillow slick with sweat. She didn’t remember coming back to her bed or falling asleep.

“You’re burning up,” her mother said. Jen opened her mouth to speak; her throat was gummy.

“The pep rally,” she forced out.

“Sweetheart, you’re not cheering today. I’m calling Dr. Ramdeen.”

Jen felt the fight leave her body. She drifted into a hazy sleep, groaning when her mother flipped the light on, gently coaxing her to get up.

She wore her pajamas to the doctor. Dr. Ramdeen’s hands were cool around Jen’s throat as she massaged her swollen lymph nodes.

Dr. Ramdeen stripped her gloves off and deposited them into the waste bin. “I’ll send the cultures to the lab, but it looks like strep.”

“How long,” Jen croaked, “until it goes away?”

“Homecoming is tomorrow,” her mother said from the chair in the corner of the room. “She’s on the cheerleading squad.”

Dr. Ramdeen squeezed Jen’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, love. You’re contagious, and in no shape to fly.”

I’m a base, Jen wanted to say. I can perform. I don’t need to shout the cheers—

As if sensing mutiny, Jen’s mother stood. “How long until the antibiotics are ready?”

“I’ll send the prescription in right now.” Dr. Ramdeen gave Jen’s shoulder another squeeze. She paused, seeing the devastation in Jen’s eyes. “There will be other homecomings.”

The sting of tears followed Jen to the car. After she’d buckled herself in, her mother reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind Jen’s ear. “Honey. It’s just a football game.”

“And the pep rally and the dance.”

She could sense her mother’s patience eroding. “Jennifer. You’re very sick, and contagious. Do you want to give Susan and Juliana strep?”

The sleepover at Susan’s house. Jen had forgotten; the Berrys were in Vermont for a wedding, and Jen and Jules were staying with Susan tonight after float building.

Now Juliana would be staying alone with Susan tonight. Jen should have felt sick at the thought of her friends hanging out without her. What would they say?

Instead, Jen felt a bubble of relief.

The pep rally would be over by now. Jen’s phone had blown up with texts while she was in Dr. Ramdeen’s office. Several of them were from Juliana.





Jen tapped out a reply:





There was the threat of tears again. Jen was so sick of crying, of fighting with her friends, of dancing around all of Juliana’s lies.





The little ellipsis that signaled Jules was typing appeared and disappeared. Jen thought she wouldn’t respond at all, until:





Seconds after she fired the message off, Jen started typing again, blinking away the spots of anger in her eyes. The dam had finally broken.





Adrenaline pumped through Jen’s veins. When she saw that Juliana was typing, it felt like an ice cube sliding down into her gut. She expected Jules to shoot something equally nasty back. Maybe an accusation that Jen was stalking her and Carly.

She never saw Juliana’s response coming.





The car blipped. Jen jolted; her mother climbed into the driver’s seat, holding a paper bag from the pharmacy. Jen flipped her phone over and rested it on her lap.

Even after she settled in at home, swallowing the antibiotic with a glass of Powerade, at her mother’s insistence, Jen didn’t text Juliana back. She had no intention of staying up until Juliana got home from float building. If Jules really wanted to talk, she could come to her.

Jen opened up her conversation with Juliana and sent her a text telling her as much. It was barely noon now; Jules would see the message and stop by after school.

She’ll come, Jen thought as she drifted off. I know she will.



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Jen awoke with a start. The sky outside was indigo streaked with gold. She fumbled around her sheets for her phone. It was almost eight o’clock.