The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading Read Online Free Page A

it was because so many people thought I shouldn’t—or couldn’t. As if being able to diagram a sentence—or in Moni’s case, solve quadratic equations in her head—made us incapable of doing a herkie.
    Those were all good reasons, but not the ones Sheila, or Mrs. Hanson, or the bored Ms. Bailey wanted to hear. I shifted my weight, and the sole of my sneaker squeaked against the floor.
    “School spirit?” I said. The acoustics in the Little Theater made my words rebound on me like an accusation.
    Mrs. Hanson arched an unbelieving eyebrow. Sheila beamed. Ms. Bailey doodled on the notepad in front of her.
    “Very well,” Mrs. Hanson said. “You girls are through.”
    We dashed up the aisle, out the door, and into the hall. I took hold of Moni’s shoulders and stared into her too-bright eyes. “We are never, ever , doing that again.”
     
     
    Amazingly, after all that, I still had time to slip into the newspaper office and catch part of the weekly staff meeting. But one look at Moni told me she wouldn’t be satisfied until she read the tryout results in black and white. Or purple and gold—Coach Sheila probably wrote exclusively in the school colors.
    The same went for everyone else, or so it seemed. Even though Thanksgiving break had officially started at last bell, twenty girls loitered in the lobby. Sure, a few pretended to study the trophies in the cases, but most of them made no pretense at all. They just sat outside the Little Theater, eyes narrowed, expressions grim.
    “How long does it take to copy last year’s roster?” I asked.
    “At least the view is good while we wait,” Moni said, and nodded her head toward the open gym doors. The varsity basketball team was practicing there—a worthy diversion, in most everyone’s opinion—or at least the opinion of the girls peering inside. Were they any different from Todd or Brian going brain-dead over cheerleaders?
    “So I’m missing newspaper to watch a bunch of jocks?” I said.
    “Hot jocks,” Moni corrected.
    “Conceded. Still—”
    Moni held up a hand and continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “Did you see Jack Paulson today? I think he’s grown five more inches since September.”
    Jack had played on the varsity team since our freshman year. Now that he was a junior, he stood a head above even the tallest senior. Did I see Jack Paulson? What kind of question was that? Of course I saw Jack Paulson . Everyone saw Jack Paulson. He was…well, Jack Paulson .
    The door to the Little Theater opened a crack. A hand with perfectly lacquered nails emerged and taped a sheet of paper to the wall.
    Most of the girls sprang forward. It must have been mass hysteria or something, but my feet carried me toward the list. I stopped before I got too far, though, vowing not to give it any more attention than it deserved.
    Kaleigh came up behind Moni and me. “You guys heard, right?”
    “Heard what?” I asked. Moni ducked her head.
    “There are three slots up for grabs,” Kaleigh said.
    “Twelve,” I corrected her.
    Kaleigh tipped her head to one side and squinted. “Twelve?”
    “Technically, all positions on the cheer squad last for just one season. ‘Veteran cheerleaders are encouraged to reapply but cannot be guaranteed a spot on the team.’ It says so right here.”
    I offered the info sheet to Kaleigh for inspection. She waved it off, rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to Moni. “Dina, Traci, and Chantal can’t cheer this season. Traci and Chantal are banned, and Dina…” She trailed off.
    And Dina …Until that moment I’d almost forgotten about the party last August, the keg of beer, and the accident that sent shock waves through the school. Dina was still in physical therapy and being homeschooled. Now Traci and Chantal couldn’t cheer?
    Of course they couldn’t—Prairie Stone High School had a zero tolerance policy. I hadn’t put two and two together before now, but apparently Kaleigh—and Moni—had.
    “So,” Kaleigh