Wedding Belles by Sarah Webb Page B

if Annabelle was slagging off
my
hometown.
    Miss Mallard claps her hands together. “Girls, girls, let’s stop the chattering and start warming up. Mindy will be here any minute. And do me proud, girls. Remember to punch out those movements. And nice tight swirlies.”
    We’re busy warming up when a tall, dark-haired girl who looks just like Nora-May walks into the gym. I’d recognize her from the YouTube clips even if she wasn’t wearing a Boston Twirlers red-and-white tracksuit.
    Mindy waves over at Nora-May, who smiles and waves back.
    “Hey, everyone,” Mindy says. “I guess you’re the All Saints, right?”
    Miss Mallard steps forward and puts out her hand. “Correct. And I’m Miss Mallard, the girls’ coach. We’re so delighted you could make it to our practice, Mindy. Nora-May’s been telling me all about your squad, and some of the girls saw you in action at the Saint Patrick’s Day parade.”
    “Delighted to be here,” Mindy says with a grin. “Thanks for having me along. It’s good to finally meet my cousin’s squad. She’s told me all about you guys. I’m psyched to see what you can do.” I wonder if Nora-May’s told her cousin that what happened to her ankle wasn’t exactly an accident. I’d say she has from the way Mindy’s checking each of us out. She’s clearly trying to work out which one of us is Annabelle. I’m proved right when Miss Mallard introduces us and Mindy’s eyes linger on Annabelle.
    “That girl can’t be your cousin,” Annabelle hisses at Nora-May while Mindy is asking Miss Mallard some questions about our training routine. “She’s white.”
    “My dad’s Chinese–American, but my mom’s Irish–American. And so is
her
brother, Mindy’s dad. Is my ethnic background a problem for you?” Nora-May snaps. “Because this is an international school, and it has a strict policy on things like that.”
    Annabelle scowls. “No! Of course not. I was just saying — ”
    “Girls, please stop the whispering,” Miss Mallard interrupts. “Mindy’s here to give us some help.” She claps her hands together. “Let’s show her what we’ve got. We’ll start with a couple of cheers, girls, and then a Full-up Liberty. We’d be very grateful for any pointers, Mindy.”
    “Sure thing,” Mindy says easily.
    After lining up, we break into a round of “Hey, hey, Saint John’s fans, yell it out and rock the stands” followed by “Don’t Mess with the Best.”
    “That was awesome, girls,” Mindy says, when we’ve finished our cheers. “Nice work. But remember to keep those motions nice and sharp. And, girl in the middle, with the curly blond hair — Annabelle, yes?”
    Annabelle stands up straighter and smiles. She’s obviously been expecting the praise. “Yes. Annabelle Hamilton. Head cheerleader.”
    “With Mills,” I point out, but Annabelle just ignores me.
    “Right, Annabelle,” Mindy says, “you gotta watch those elbows. They’re dropping. Keep ’em nice and high. Big toothy smile, though. Must have cost ya.”
    Annabelle beams at the comment on her smile. “Thanks.” She has annoyingly perfect teeth. I don’t think Mindy meant it as a compliment.
    “OK, let’s see your Full-up Liberty,” Mindy continues. “Impress me, girls.”
    Miss Mallard nods. “OK, All Saints, get into position for a Full-up Liberty, please. And Annabelle, do try to focus this time. We don’t want any more accidents.”
    “That wasn’t my fault, miss,” Annabelle says. “Nora-May’s too heavy to be flier. Mills is too. I think you should pick someone lighter — like me, for example.”
    “What do you think, Mindy?” Miss Mallard asks her. “Is weight an important factor?”
    Mindy shrugs. “Sure, but it’s mainly about balance. Maybe each of the girls should try out the different roles and see which one suits them best. Not everyone’s cut out for flier.”
    “I definitely am,” Annabelle says. “I’m the most experienced cheerleader