From Butt to Booty by Amber Kizer Page B

love to say I’ll never wash this hand, but all I want is a shower, so I’d be totally lying. He jogs away toward other heaps of girls, pulling them to their feet as well.
    “Has Mack even broken a sweat?” Clarice leans in.
    “He glows like a good mist, I guess.” I squint, trying to find one rivulet on his brow. Just one drop of perspiration.
    Maggie rolls her eyes.
    “Now for some fun, people.” Mack wheels out an ancient television screen. “This is an unorthodox practice, but Manchester United is rumored to use it for mental acuity, balance and body control. The Chinese have used it for centuries to focus and calm the mind.”
    “Math puzzles?” I ask quietly, hoping no one hears.
    “Tai chi.” Mack smiles at all of us like we know what that is.
    Maggie leans over. “No running.” She twitches her lips like she’d like to smile but doesn’t have the energy.
    I smile at her and at Mack. Okay, I can do no running for a while.
    “We’ll start easy, learn the movements, then speed it up as practices continue.” Mack and the five horsemen take places aroundthe gym so they can see us and the TV. “Don’t feel like you have to perfect the movement immediately. Just go with the motion.”
    “That sounds bad,” I say to Clarice as we spread out.
    We do lots of inhaling and exhaling. I like the breathing thing; I wasn’t sure that was a high priority around here.
    “People, pay attention: this is embracing the moon!” Mack shouts. A few of the girls giggle.
    Lucas is perfectly and completely engrossed in the screen. I’ve never seen such concentration on a manly-boy before.
    “Part the wild horse’s mane, people!” Mack shouts.
    I try, I really do, but I’m just not horse-mane-parting talented. In fact, I think I’m more like braiding horse’s tail. I’m tempted to find a pen to put eyes on my hands so I can do a puppet show while we breathe and flail.
    “I suck,” Clarice says.
    “So not,” I say. She’s even lunging in the right place. I could hate her.
    “Back to embracing the moon.” Mack doesn’t have to yell anymore. Most of the girls are just swaying to an unknown pop tune. It’s like VH1 in slo-mo.
    I so am not kidding: I almost think I’ll jinx myself if I say this out loud, but I don’t suck as bad as some.
    “It’s kinda fun, isn’t it?” I ask Maggie when Mack calls us to a stop.
    “The running?” She collapses on the ground.
    “No, the dancing.” I heave a sigh next to her.
    “Dancing?”
    “The moony horsey thing.”
    “The tai chi.” Clarice gulps from a water bottle.
    “Are we done yet?” Maggie asks.
    “We’re supposed to stretch while Mack and the other coaches cut ten people from tryouts.”
    “What are we supposed to stretch?” I ask, watching the contortionists contort around me.
    “Beats me.” Maggie doesn’t move off the ground.
    I start counting spit wads on the ceiling while Clarice does some flailing of her own.
    I raise an eyebrow at her.
    “What? My mom does yoga all the time,” she says.
    “Oh.”
    “Thanks to all of you for coming out for the soccer team. However, we only have a few places, and based on injuries today, we’ll be cutting ten of you. If your name is not crossed off this list, please show up tomorrow as scheduled for round two.”
    “I can’t move,” Maggie mumbles.
    “Clarice, go see if we’re done, please?” I ask Miss Perky Yoga Girl.
    Clarice wanders over to the crowd.
    A couple of girls actually look like they’re going to cry.
    Clarice pushes in and reads down the list, then comes back over with a glum expression on her face.
    I applaud. “Good acting. That way no one will know we want to be cut.”
    “We’re not.”
    “We’re not what?” Maggie sits up, groaning.
    “Cut.”
    “There must be a mistake!” I cry out. Way too loudly because Lucas comes over to us.
    “You guys don’t want to stiffen up. You’d better stretch it out or tomorrow you’ll hurt like hell.”
    “Tomorrow?” Maggie