Prom Queen of Disaster (14 page)

Kaleb walked out of the bathroom when I bumped into him.

“Nice, nightie,” he said, walking off into the room we had so generously offered him. He stopped and took a second look.

“When are you going home?” I asked, clinging to keep hold of my clothes.

“Zoey!” my mom shouted. I turned to see her standing in the hall with an armful of clothes. “Kaleb is a guest. That’s not like you.”

After I was dressed and thoroughly refreshed, I walked back to my room to see my mom making my bed. She patted a seat next to her.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “I thought you were happy to have Kaleb here, he’s a school friend and a
family
friend.”

“He is,” I said. “I just don’t get why he’s not with his brothers.”

“I’ve been trying to get to the bottom of that,” she said. “Nobody is ever there when I go to visit. But while he’s here, please make him feel welcome.”

I hummed and nodded, trying not to show her as I picked the nail polish. “It’s an adjustment,” I said. “Having another person here.”

“I know that side of you, Zoey,” she said. “When Madison was born, you hated it, if she was in your way, you’d push her, but you soon came to love and accept her.”

I didn’t want to do either with Kaleb, love or accept. It felt like he was infiltrating our family. He’d probably poison us with carbon monoxide,
the silent killer
; I knew too well he wasn’t scared of poisoning.

“Anyway, we’d best get you two to school,” she said. “You’ve got a big day ahead.”

“Thanks, mom.”

My dad was still sleeping when I left. He was set to fly out to Europe in the evening, and that meant getting as much sleep as humanly possible. I was used to it, since I was young, he’d disappear for days, my mom would say he’s gone into the sky, and at the time, we’d been in Bible classes, my only thought, he was Jesus. Safe to say, I’m not the daughter of the son of God, as I’d once told my pre-school teacher.

My mom handed me three boxes of snacks and quiche.

“Thanks,” I said, juggling the boxes. One-armed Kaleb was
helpless
.

“Have fun!” she said.

“I will.”

“Text me when you when you leave.”

Everything about the new cheer outfits were perfect. They weren’t tailored, but they fit snuggly and they looked good. With each cheer captain as the year before, Char was able to choose the style, without going from the school colors.

Char stood opposite a mirror, stroking creases from her outfit. She turned and bounced to see how the skirt sat on her butt She slapped it. “That’s right.”

“Make it rain!” I laughed.

“Need to make sure it feels right.”

“Perf.” Ava hung hers on the clothes hanger. “I’m in love.”

“Guys,” Libby burst into the changing room. “The bus is here. It’s absolutely huge.”

“I’ll be 5 minutes.” Char held fingers up. “Need to get changed. Make sure everyone has their shit on the bus. I want to arrive with enough time to check out the venue.”

It was an impossible task. Char loved impossible tasks. The journey itself was planned to take six hours, and only if we didn’t make any pit stops for bathroom breaks or food, which we were bound to do.

“Is there a bathroom on the bus?” I asked.

Char nodded. “Specifically asked for one.”

One less thing to worry about it. I was glad it wasn’t my time of the month, but Damaris was. Out of
courtesy
to each other, we had an app called SYNC’D, it allowed us to post when we were on our periods, that way we knew if someone is being a little bitchy there was a reason, and also be prepared to throw Midol their way. As it was, it worked, and we were stronger for it, at least the girls among us were, except for Char, she was irregular and always a bitch.

Ava pulled me aside. “Did something happen between you and Kaleb?”

“No, why?” I asked, adjusting the straps on my gym bag.

“He said he didn’t feel comfortable.”

“Getting used to having a guy in the house is strange,” I said.

Ava laughed. “Is it the bathroom thing? I hate that.”

It wasn’t the toilet thing. I hadn’t noticed that. It was the unwanted kiss, knowing he wasn’t innocent or as nice as everyone else made him out to be. Now, nobody would believe me if I said anything, all because I didn’t say anything after it happened. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Like, why can’t they just put the seat down.”

The bus was huge, and it didn’t smell like old people or cat urine, both of which I’d experienced before. I carried my smaller bag onto the bus with food my mom had packed.

Dylan grabbed me by the waist, pretending to gnaw on the side of my neck. “Cannot wait to see you in that outfit,” he said. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Well.” I kissed him. “I might have a picture.”

We took seats at the back of the coach. I
needed
the window seat, mainly because six-hour journeys made me motion sick. There were six seats on the back, with the row in front having five seats; three on one side, two on the other.

By the time Char was ready, everyone was already on the coach waiting. Mr. June stood by the door, waving her in. “C’mon Charlotte,” he called out. “We’re waiting on you now.”

“So you should be,” she said. “I’m the god damn captain.”

He chuckled, stroking the back of his neck as he followed Char. “Let’s wrap this up!” he said. He grabbed the microphone from the driver and tapped on it a few times. “So, we have some rules and an itinerary to follow on this trip.”

Char reached the back of the coach. “Did you see my Instagram?” she said, sitting between Benny and Ava on the back seats. “That’s why I’m late, the outfit is on point, and it needed to be documented.”

Ava grabbed her phone to search for the image, while Char shoved her phone in my face. “Look,” she said. “You’d betta double tap.” She laughed, although I knew she was serious.

Mr. June continued through his list of rules. He made us aware we would be stopping only the once and that would be for dinner in 3 hours, probably at a fast food diner, which Char would definitely object to.

“Hey, Mr. Serious,” Char said, shoving her phone into Kaleb’s face. “Do you even follow me?”

Kaleb didn’t say a word to me. He laughed at Char. “Wondering if I remembered to bring the pain meds,” he said. “I think Ava’s already followed you for me. Don’t worry.”

Ava nodded. “I did.”

I turned to Dylan and punched his arm. “Have
you
followed her?”

He laughed. “I probably have now.”

“So, what games are on there?” I asked, reaching for his iPad.

“It’s no Angry Cats or Flappy Chicken,” he said. “But that game with boxes, and you have to match three. It’s so hard.”

“Oh god, that game!” I said. “You know I’m gonna beat your high score.” It was easy enough.

Before the coach could begin moving, the engine cut out and the door opened. Mr. June waved more people on. I noticed Mr. Brooks, one of my art teachers climb on board, followed by Mrs. Jennings, my English teacher.

Mr. June took to the microphone once again. “We also have a few more students joining us today on our trip today to Los Angeles.” From behind, Mila, Heather, and Brittany climbed on board the coach.

Char stood and stomped a foot. “Mr. June! I thought this was for the competition, not some Greyhound.”

Mr. June shrugged the comments off with a chuckle. “I’ll go through roll call, then we’re off.”

Before I could occupy myself with the iPad, Char pulled our attention to her. She pointed to the front of the coach. “Did anyone else know about this?” she asked. “If they think of coming to the competition, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Libby and Hannah sat the row in front of us. They popped their heads over the seats, one on either row, each with their
new
boyfriends. “They probably invited themselves,” Hannah said. “We need someone on the student body.”

“Uh, Han,” Char rolled her eyes. “We tried that already, after they
infect
the newbies, they don’t want to hang with us. We need to get them first.”

“What if you ask one of them to come on the squad, next semester,” Libby said.

“If Sara leaves,” Char said as Sara turned at the mention of her name. “Just discussing what would happen if you left.”

Sara knelt on her seat. “It’s not set in stone,” she said. “Jeez.”

“Girls,” Mr. June called. “Take your seats. We need a headcount, and the driver’s not going anywhere until you’re all accounted for.”

The first hour was loud; with plenty of energy to waste on singing music Char forced the driver to play. Mostly female pop ballads and for 2015, an awful lot of Destiny’s Child.

Question
, played over the stereo. Char jumped out of her seat with an entire choreographed sequence with hand shapes and slow drops.

The second hour was quieter, people had turned to their phones and headsets for music. Char, still sang aloud to the music playing, thankfully only heard by people who’d forgot to bring headphones with them. By now I’d beat Dylan’s score twice. He’d tried to take the iPad from me to play, but I was on a roll, so I slapped his hands away and let him continue to wrap his arms around me.

As the end of the third hour approached, Char took to the microphone. It wasn’t the first time she had during the coach journey, but it was the first time she’d made everyone listen.

“So, cheer squad and those accompanying us, if you don’t fall within this category, please be advised your opinions will not matter,” she said. “Do you want to go for food now? It’s now 6:30 PM or we could wait another hour?”

Undiscerning mumbles sounded through the coach.

“Don’t mind,” one of the girls to the front said.

“We need a decision,” Char said.

I’d already eaten most of the quiche my mom had packed, and the rest I’d given to Kaleb.

“You hungry?” Dylan asked.

“I want fries and a shake,” I said. “But Char would kill me.”

“She won’t kill me though,” he said, unraveling his arm from around my body. “Yeah. I could go for food.”

“Right,” Char said with smile. “I CBA with cramps because I ate too late. That’s it settled. What food?”

Quickly deciding with a firm push from Mr. June, although we’d have to eat somewhere without fast food in the title. We finally pulled to a stop in a small town between San Rafael and Los Angeles, I didn’t see any signs, but there was an oversized parking lot used by truck drivers, and it was fairly close to the restaurant we’d decided on

A server at the door greeted us. “Welcome to The Glanville Family Restaurant, how many people are in your party today?” More bodies piled through the door. She nodded her head, taking a mental note. “I’ll grab you a few tables,” she chuckled to herself. “I’ll be right back.”

The restaurant wasn’t empty, which was a pleasant surprise for a place dealing mainly with travelling business people and truck drivers.

We took seats and placed our orders, I was conscious about what Char would say to fries and a shake, that’s all I wanted. She looked at me, expecting a response.

“It sounds good,” Char said.

“I hope so.” I clenched Dylan’s hand. “What did you order?”

“Caprese salad,” she said. “My mom told me about going no-carb, flatten the stomach. So I’m giving it a try.”

“You don’t need it,” I laughed, looking at her thin spaghetti arms. “You look perfect.”

“Oh, I know.”

It was nothing new. When I joined the cheer squad, my mom told me not to get involved with drugs or let the girls tell me I was less than beautiful. That was the day my mom knew I was becoming a woman, or at least more mature.

“What even is a caprese salad?” Dylan whispered.

I shrugged. “Salad?” I wasn’t far wrong, there was cheese and herbs. It came with stale croutons, untouched on the side of her plate.

My strawberry shake and fries made its way over. I dipped the fries in the shake before I ate them, much to Dylan’s disgust. He shuddered beside me, slicing into the steak he’d ordered.

Whatever we didn’t finish was put into go containers. As per the strict schedule, we had minutes to eat before we were back on the road. It was already 7:15 PM.

Once back on the coach, I leant against Dylan, I was now wearing his oversized hoodie. I tried to stop myself from sleeping on him, but the drumming sound of the engine and the warmth of his body welcomed me.

I woke to Dylan’s face in mine, repeating my name.

“Yeah?” I said, frowning in the bright lighting.

“We’re here,” he said. “We need to check in, then you can go back to sleep.”

The coach wasn’t sticking around for the weekend, so we needed to take everything off. We were in a large parking lot with several other coaches parked up beside each other. I climbed off the coach to see Char trying to get a look at whether or not they were competition.

“Checking in is separate,” Mr. June said. “The cheer squad, I’ll have your room keys, everyone else who choose to come on this trip, you’ll need to check yourself in. Don’t get yourselves into any trouble, and we’ll have a nice weekend. Okay?”

A chorus of oddly timed
okay
s broke out.

“And those wishing to watch the competition tomorrow, I have extra entry bands,” he finished, leading the way to the hotel.

We made our way to the electric doors of the hotel, leading through to the reception desk. The pristine white tiles were too bright. I hauled my bag on a shoulder and shaded my eyes.

Mr. June collected several room keys before handing them out. It was three to a room. I was sharing with Char and Ava. The only rule was no boys in the girls’ rooms, and no girls in the boy’s room. Mrs. Jennings made notes of who was sharing rooms.

Before we could make our way to the rooms, they gathered us in the lobby. Everyone who wasn’t in the cheer squad was able to leave, but they tried to stress that we still weren’t able to go into different rooms.

“Tomorrow, I want everyone to be here at 8 AM, I want everyone to have been showered. Please wear your uniform, or something to practice in for the first couple of hours, we will be going to the convention center around 8:30 AM, to get a feel for the routine space,” Mr. June said. “It’s only a few blocks, so we’ll be going on foot, sorry to disappoint.”

I could feel myself sighing, louder than I’d thought. Char nudged me and laughed. “What about breakfast?” I asked.

“Breakfast will be served at the convention center,” Mr. June said, taking a nod. “It’s a healthy breakfast buffet, I wouldn’t advise of the vending machines, we want everyone to be at peak performance.” If there was something he knew, it was giving a talk about nothing. My face yawned into a seizure of half-smiling and half-yawning. “Now, off to your rooms.”

Char hooked her arm around me. “Let’s get to our room then,” she said, nudging Ava with her foot.

“Ow, you—” Ava turned, frowning. “Oh my god.” She took a deep breath and pulled her gym bag up on an arm.

“We don’t want to injure a flyer,” I said, “and nobody really wants to be pushing Ava around in a wheelchair.”

Ava gasped. “If my calves weren’t half as strong, I would be in a wheelchair.”