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Samantha and I took seats up at the front. We made it there long before Rachel and Aubrie because they were walking with some of the guys. The dating goddess was always in high form after a game.

I noticed Coach Davison talking to Mrs. Jones a little ways away from the bus, and neither looked happy. Then Bryce and Derek, two linebackers, rattled up the steps. Bryce shook his head at us. "You guys are busted. Someone ratted you out."

"What?" I asked.

"Someone told the coach you've got beer in your duffel bags," Derek said.

Samantha wrinkled her nose like it was a ridiculous thing to say, which it was. "We don't have beer in our duffel bags."

I didn't chime in to agree because I noticed Mrs. Jones and Coach Davison stop Rachel and Aubrie as they walked by. Coach Davison took their duffel bags from them.

"Look," I nudged Samantha and pointed to the scene out the window. "Someone is about to feel foolish."

That's when Coach Davison pulled a beer can from Rachel's bag. Both Aubrie and Rachel's mouths dropped open. So did mine. And then my heart pounded in my chest. I turned and grabbed my own duffel bag from underneath my seat. As I did, I noticed Coach Davison open Aubrie's bag and pull a can from it too. He gripped the can while Aubrie shook her head vigorously. She put her hand against her chest, protesting.

Coach Davison gave her a grim look and headed toward the bus.

I fumbled with the zipper on my duffel bag. The cold made my fingers clumsy. After long moments the zipper finally came open. There along with my make-up kit and granola bars lay a can of beer. "How did this get in here?" I breathed out.

Samantha had her own duffel bag open on her lap, and she glanced down at a beer can with horror. "We've been set up," she whispered. "We've got to get rid of these."

"Where?" I asked. The bus didn't have any hiding places, and I couldn't have pried open one of the windows if I'd wanted to. I glanced at it anyway. The coach and Mrs. Jones were almost to the bus steps.

Samantha grabbed the can from my duffel bag. I had no idea where she planned on hiding it. Before I could ask her, she put my can next to her own, zipped her bag shut, then shoved it back underneath her seat.

I stared at her. "What are you doing? They'll find them in your bag."

She took my bag, zipped it, and slid it underneath my seat. "Yeah, but they won't find anything in yours."

It still didn't make sense. She leaned toward me. "This has to be Rick's fault. If we're not students in good standing, we can't sing for High School Idol. This way at least you'll still be able to audition."

I didn't have time to answer. Coach Davison was beside me, his gaze boring into mine. "Do you girls mind handing me your duffel bags?"

I glanced at Samantha and gulped. I felt my face flushing in frustration and anger. We pulled our bags out and handed them to Coach Davison. First he opened mine. He rummaged around the contents, then set it aside without comment. Then he opened Samantha's.

He immediately pulled out one of the cans of beer and held it up for Samantha to see. His jaw clenched tight. "Would you like to tell me what you're doing with this? You know the rules about alcohol at games. It's an automatic two-week suspension from school."

Samantha blinked up at him. I knew she was trying to look surprised but her words came out frightened. "I didn't put that there. Someone is trying to get us in trouble."

"Us?" he asked. "Who else has beer with them?"

She didn't answer. If we admitted that we saw what happened with Rachel and Aubrie, then they'd know we had time to rearrange the contents of our bags.

Coach Davison nodded at Samantha's silence. "I'd like you to step off the bus for a minute. We need to call your parents."

Samantha stood and pushed past me without another word.

The ride home was horrible. Aubrie was near tears, Rachel was so steamed you could have boiled rice on her lap, and Samantha sat with a look of broken trust on her face. I don't know which reaction made me feel worse.

Even though I knew this was Rick's fault, part of me felt guilty about it anyway. They were in trouble. I wasn't. And they wouldn't have been in trouble if they hadn't been helping me in the first place.

Rachel told me every word Mrs. Jones and Coach Davison had said to them. Mrs. Jones had tried to stick up for the squad. "The duffel bags were by my seat, but I wasn't watching them that closely," she had told Coach Davison before he'd called everyone's parents. "It's possible that someone sneaked the cans into the duffel bags. The girls might be telling the truth."

"Might" was not a strong enough alibi to keep him from calling parents.

While he did, Mrs. Jones told Rachel, Aubrie, and Samantha, "We'll talk to the principal on Monday. I'll explain and hopefully she'll lift your suspension."

"Hopefully" was not all that comforting and Monday would be too late.

We discussed the situation in hushed voices on the bus ride home. "You could just sing with me anyway," I said. "We've already got the paperwork signed that says we're students in good standing. The judges won't know what happened tonight."

"You don't think Rick is going to tell them?" Rachel said. "If you win, he'll have you disqualified faster than you can say, 'sore loser.' "

"And what if the principal doesn't lift our suspension?" Aubrie asked. "They have evidence against us; it's just our word that we didn't do it."

"Mrs. Jones will help us. She believes we're innocent." Samantha cast a glance in our advisor's direction. "I think."

Rachel lowered her voice even further. "Mrs. Jones should have been watching our stuff better and none of this would have happened."

True, but I couldn't muster much anger at her. "She couldn't have known that Rick would do this." It hurt to say the words more than I thought it would. After all, I'd known Rick was my enemy. He'd never made a secret of it. So why had I thought that lately his complaints against me were more hype than hatred? Dating Tanner hadn't made me immune to this sort of attack.

"We can't let him get away with this," Rachel said.

Aubrie shook her head. "We have no way to prove it was him."

Rachel's eyes narrowed, calculating. "Is there any way to let the air out of his tires right before he has to leave for the auditions?"

"We need to concentrate on winning first. Then we'll worry about Rick." Samantha turned in her seat, surveying me. "You'll have to sing a different song. What's another one that you know the words to?"

Offhand I couldn't think of any. Besides, I hadn't practiced any other songs with Mr. Metzerol. I didn't know where to breathe and how to hold onto the notes or anything else. I'd only barely been able to get the notes of this song in the vicinity of my forehead. How could I start all over again and have something ready by tomorrow?

"I don't know what would work best with my voice. Plus if I'm nervous, I won't be able to remember any of the words of a new song anyway. And what about dance moves?" The more I thought about it, the harder it seemed. It was a huge, insurmountable mountain. I couldn't do this alone.

Still, all the way back home we tossed out song titles. I even tried to sing a few of them to see if they were in my voice range. Nothing sounded good. Nothing.