“Wasn’t it?” Brenda said through gritted teeth. “I hope everyone enjoyed their free popcorn. In their ears.”
“No one seems terribly disturbed,” I said, glancing at the people in the rows below us. One woman with curly red hair still had some kernels on top of her head. “They’ve got kids. They understand.”
“They don’t have this kid,” she muttered, keeping an eye on him as he started pulling on Will’s arm.
“He’s fine,” I told her. “He’s exuberant.”
“I should’ve named him Exuberant.”
I chuckled. Derek was all boy, and then some. He was a cross between a tornado and a hurricane. Despite his destructive tendencies, he could also be incredibly sweet and kind. And he was probably one of the cutest preschoolers I’d ever seen.
“When does Maddie’s team perform?” I asked.
She checked the brochure in her hand. “They’re next to last. It’s going to be...interesting.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
She leaned back against the concrete wall behind us. “Well, her coach is...interesting.”
I chuckled. “That’s one word for her.”
Brenda looked at me. “You met her? When I put you on pick up duty?”
“Oh, we met, yes,” I said. Brenda held out her bag of popcorn and I took a handful. “I made the mistake of wearing a Moose River sweatshirt when I came the first time.”
Brenda’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t like that.”
“She made that very clear.”
“Well, I feel like she’s a good coach, in that she can teach dance and strength and tumbling,” Brenda said. Mary reached into the popcorn bag and pulled out one piece. She stuck it in Brenda’s mouth. “Thanks, sweetie,” she told her, planting a kiss on top of her head. She turned back to me. “But when it comes to choreography for the entire team?” She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “She has some kind of ‘out there’ ideas.”
“Out there?”
How could anything in cheerleading be considered ‘out there?’ They chanted and shook pom poms and formed pyramids.
“Let’s just say they’ll probably have the most unique routine you’ll see today,” she said. She leaned closer to me. “If Maddie actually cared about cheerleading, then we’d probably look for another team. But she doesn’t. She’s just looking to improve her skills to carry over to ballet. This is close, this is cheap and it is entertaining in it’s own way.”
“I think I’m actually excited to watch now.”
“The good news is Maddie is realistic about their chances,” she said. Mary shoved another piece in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. “The bad news is that it will still probably not be good.”
I shifted on the bleacher. “I thought they had a shot at winning since Amanda Pendleton is missing.”
“Technically, yes, their chances are better,” Brenda said, an amused expression settling on her face. “But...well, I’ll just let you watch.”
“You’re a tease.”
She leaned across me. “Derek! Stop kicking him!”
I glanced over at him. He was methodically kicking Will in the shin, over and over, like a hammer on a nail. Will just laughed as Derek froze and leaned back in his seat.
“Do it again and…and…” Brenda stopped, trying to think of a punishment.
“And I won’t play Minecraft with you the next time I come over,” Will provided.
Derek’s face fell and his foot stilled. Brenda gave Will a grateful look.
“You’re like The Derek Whisperer,” she told him. “I might need you to come live with me for the next thirteen years.”
Will paled a little at the suggestion but still managed a smile in response.
Grace nudged me. “I want candy,” she whispered loudly.
“I don’t have any.”
“The concession stand does. I see people with M&Ms and Skittles. And Milky Ways. And hot dogs.”
“Did you bring money?” I asked.
She frowned. “No.”
“I did,” Sophie announced.
I turned around. She pulled a five-dollar bill out of her jeans pocket. “Can I go get something?” she asked.
“Sure,” I told her.
“Hey,” Grace said. “Will you buy me something? I’ll pay you back.”
Will’s eagle eyes zeroed in on Sophie’s money. He stood up. “Me, too. I’ll even pay you a penny interest.”
They scampered down the benches, negotiating interest rates and what Sophie was willing to accept in exchange for fronting them money.”
“Hey,” I said to Brenda. I glanced at the benches again. “You’re missing someone. Please don’t tell me Johnny is still lost in another corn maze.”
She giggled. “Pretty sure those are off-limits for all eternity now. No, Drew and Melissa had a birthday party to go to. He practically begged to take him, even though it’s at Chuck E. Cheese. Anything to get out of coming to this.”
Drew was Brenda’s oldest son, who was about as different from Derek as night and day, and Melissa was the same age as Grace, and one of her best friends – and also the complete opposite of Derek.
The music abruptly turned off and the lights flickered off and then back on. An emcee came out to the center of the arena, microphone in hand, and welcomed us all to the competition. She ran down the list of teams competing, introduced the judges and reminded us about good sportsmanship and cheering positively. The kids came back from the concession stand, each one clutching a piece of candy. They sat down just as the emcee finished speaking.
The first team came out, a hurricane of green and white outfits, bouncing around the gym like pinballs as a heavy bass thrummed through the walls of the arena. They launched right into their routine, screaming and dancing and tumbling. They punched the air and exploded with happiness when they finished their routine. A group of fans launched out of their seats, hooting and hollering. They were dressed in the same green and white, some with their faces painted with matching stripes.
Nothing says commitment like adults painting their faces.
“Were they good?” I asked Brenda. “They looked good to me.”
Brenda nodded. She had a board book in her hand and Mary was yanking on one of the paper lift-the-flaps. “They were pretty good, but they made some mistakes. Wait until Moose River Fusion comes out. You’ll see the difference, even without Amanda.”
Two groups later, Moose River charged out into the gym, clad in their red and black uniforms, making all of these weird hand gestures and air punches and jumps. But Brenda was right. When the music started, they were clearly better than everyone else. They jumped higher, they cheered louder and their tumbling passes were incredible. They looked more like Olympic gymnasts than kids from my town. There were no bobbles, no missteps, no trips. They were like a well-oiled machine.
“And I’m not kidding you when I tell you that Amanda Pendleton made them even better,” Brenda yelled into my ear when the crowd exploded with applause at their finish.
I couldn’t imagine what more she could bring to an already phenomenal team, but I took her word for it.
We watched six more teams go before Maddie and the Cheerlicious Cheetahs came sprinting out to the middle of the venue. At first, they seemed just like the other groups. Full of energy, big smiles, snazzy uniforms, jumping around like they had ants in their pants. But they seemed more nervous and their smiles tended to flicker as they looked for Greta Mathisen, who was perched down in the front row, sitting ramrod straight, her hands balled into fists on her thighs.
The lights dimmed and the music began. I recognized it immediately. Michael Jackson’s Thriller. They began their routine and that was when I realized what Brenda meant by...interesting.
It was a weird song choice. It didn’t have the same upbeat rhythms and cadences of the songs we’d already heard, and I didn’t think it really lended itself to creating lots of energy in the arena, energy for the cheerleaders to feed off of.