The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading by Charity Tahmaseb, Darcy Vance

stared at the floor, and said, “See ya in class.”
    He left before I could say good-bye. When the library’s double doors shut behind him and Rick, Moni nearly ran back to the table. “How much do you think they heard?”
    “Like it matters?” I said. “I’m always saying stupid stuff around Jack.” Maybe the cheerleading uniform was a Get Out of Smart Free card.
    “It doesn’t matter. I think he’s into you.”
    “No way.”
    “Way. How many times has he shown up where you are in the last few days? Come on, instead of breakfast in the cafeteria, he’s at the library, before school? When’s the last time Jack Paulson even stepped foot in here?”
    “Oh? So that explains why Rick couldn’t find his way back out?”
    A blush washed over Moni’s face. “C’mon, Bee, Rick’s so totally cute. Do you think there’s any—”
    “He’s got a reputation as a player,” I warned her. But it was more than that, really. Something told me he enjoyed having a reputation. And that bothered me.
    “I know.” Moni sighed. “But does it matter?”
    Maybe. Maybe not. I liked giving people the benefit of the doubt. If only this bet between him and Jack didn’t seem so much like a joke. Geek girls or not, I didn’t want either one of us to figure into the punch line.
    If the librarian hadn’t coughed one more time, I might not have noticed the odd look she gave me when I checked out the book on basketball. And later, if Todd hadn’t glared, I might not have noticed that I followed him from honors history into the wrong classroom. My mind was on Jack—and that bet. Only when I rushed into Independent Reading late, and Jack aimed his eyes my way, did I come back to the present.
    Like Jane Austen might say in Pride and Prejudice —such fine eyes. No one with eyes like Jack’s could do anything deliberately cruel.
     
     
    “Your tallest five,” Coach Miller said to Sheila.
    Moni and I stood with the rest of the cheerleading squad just outside the gym doors. It was the Friday of the first basketball game. Royalty was the pep rally’s theme, and the Student Council had decked the gym in school colors.
    “It looks ridiculous for a tall boy to be escorted by a short girl.” Coach Miller sent the smaller girls a disapproving look. “I’d like to maintain a sense of dignity.”
    Dignity? Of course. That must be the rationale behind the paper crowns and the oh-so-dignified shiny, plastic, purple robes. Kings of the Court, get it? Moni poked me in the ribs, and we both tried not to snicker.
    Inside the gym, each class packed its own set of bleachers, freshmen at the end by the doors, with seniors near the front. I heard the band play the opening notes to Pink’s “Get the Party Started.” The cheerleading squad was supposed to be dancing to that. Instead we fluffed our pom-poms in the lobby while Coach Miller and Sheila negotiated.
    “All right. We can work with it.” When Sheila pinched the bridge of her nose, then tipped her head toward the gym, I caught the disappointment in her eyes. We’d all worked hard on that dance routine. The only reason we were any good was Sheila’s unrelenting faith that we could be. That, and the fear she’d go ninja on us if we screwed up.
    “Let’s see.” Sheila bit a perfectly painted nail and looked us over. “Bethany, Kaleigh, Cassidy, Elaine, and Brianna. Line up by height, girls.”
    Kaleigh bolted to the front of the line, even though I was taller. And we both knew it. I fell in behind her anyway.
    “Actually, Kaleigh,” Sheila said, “Bethany’s got at least an inch on you.”
    “But look.” Kaleigh waved a hand between her head and mine, showcasing her teased ponytail, and I could’ve sworn Sheila swallowed a smile.
    “Hairstyles don’t count, sweetie,” said Sheila.
    I traded places with Kaleigh, who “accidentally” pushed me from behind. I stumbled forward into the gym and finally grasped the reason behind Kaleigh’s attitude: There stood Jack