Fly Away Page 4

  Arielle was hunched over her laptop, typing.

  “Oh, hey, Marnie,” she said without turning around.

  “One sec, okay?”

  She typed a couple more lines, then swiveled around in her chair so that her body was blocking the screen. I sat across from her on the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Fine,” she said. “I had the most horrible headache earlier.”

  “You blew off practice because of a headache?”

  She frowned. “I wasn’t feeling well, Marnie. What’s the big deal?”

  “Oh, only that Shona is trying to get me kicked off the team.”

  “What?” she asked. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I said. “She’s right. I stink.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I do. I can’t even do a split throw without falling on my face.”

  Arielle sighed. “Marnie,” she said, “no matter what Shona says, Coach Saylor is not going to replace you. Think about it. Who would she replace you with?”

  “Oh,” I said, “so it’s not that I’m good, it’s just that there’s no one else?”

  Arielle didn’t take the bait. She just stared at me until a ping from her laptop caught her attention. She turned around quickly and shut the lid.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  She hesitated. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Of course!” I said.

  “Have you ever heard of Trey Benedict?” I shook my head.

  “He’s an artist,” Arielle said. “A really good one. He’s had shows in some of the best galleries in New York. And he’s looking at my work.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  I did my best to smile. “What do you mean, ‘looking at’? Like, critiquing?”

  Arielle nodded. “I sent him that portfolio you reviewed for me.”

  “And? What did he say?” I could tell the answer by the look on her face.

  “He liked it,” she said.

  I smiled, for real this time. “Of course he did, Ari. Your paintings are amazing.”

  She got out of her chair and hugged me. “Thanks. I’m so excited, Marnie!”

  It was nice to be hugged. I needed it. I made room for her beside me on the bed. “So,” I asked, “what does this mean, exactly?”

  “Um…,” she began, and then she shrugged. “Well…nothing right now, I guess.” She was silent for a moment. “It’s good to be recognized by someone who’s objective, don’t you think? Someone who doesn’t know me.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “I’m sorry if I don’t sound very excited. It’s been a rough few days.”

  She nodded. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t at practice today. I had no idea Shona would go this far. I’ll call Coach about it, okay?”

  “No!” I exclaimed. “Don’t. I’ll deal with it myself.”

  Arielle nodded her approval. “That’s the best way. And don’t let it get to you so much, okay? It’s not like you to be so rattled.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not just the cheerleading thing though. There’s something else.”

  She listened while I told her about Liam dumping me at the side of the road.

  “At night, in the middle of winter?”

  I nodded.

  “What a jerk!” she said. “Stay away from him, Marnie.”

  “But we’ve been together two years,” I said. “How could he turn his back on all that?”

  “Marnie! Are you crazy? He left you by the side of the road.”

  I was starting to regret having told her anything. I knew what Liam had done was terrible, but it was out of character for him. Liam was a good person. Even Arielle used to like him, and she was very picky about guys. Did she really think I could shrug off two years of dating like it was a failed experiment? Sometimes Arielle could be incredibly cold. “He’s depressed, Ari. He’s just not himself.”

  She frowned. “We’re in high school, Marnie. Liam’s in his last year, like me. There’s university coming up. And then this brutal job market. Plus parents who still think they can tell us exactly what to do with our lives. Who isn’t a little bit crazy right now? But it doesn’t give him an excuse to treat you like garbage just because you have your act together.”

  She was right. She was so right. Like always.

  “So you don’t think he needs help?” I asked. “You don’t think I should tell someone?”

  “Liam’s problems are none of your concern anymore.”

  “It just seems so cold,” I said, “to just write someone off like that and walk away. I guess he wanted that scholarship really badly. He was probably afraid to talk about it in case it didn’t happen. And now, who is he going to talk to about it? We were best friends. I can’t stop caring about him just like that!”

  She gave me a look I didn’t like. The way my mother looks at me when she thinks she has all the answers. “Forget about it. You have your own life to worry about, Marnie.”

  chapter ten

  True to her word, Arielle didn’t say anything to Coach Saylor about Shona and me.

  But at our Saturday practice, she made me assistant captain.

  “Any objections?” she asked, looking around at the other girls.

  After a long moment, Ashleigh pointed out that we’d never had an assistant captain before.

  Arielle shrugged. “The Great Lakes entry form has a space for the name of an assistant captain. I guess it’s in case I can’t be reached or something. Makes sense.”

  It was my turn to look around at the group. Which girls had Shona turned against me? Which ones were on my side? I couldn’t tell.

  Casually, as if it were an afterthought, Arielle added, “We don’t need to vote on this or anything, do we? Marnie’s a veteran on this team. We all know how much she’s done for us. She never misses a practice, she helps all of us with our tumbling, she choreographed most of the ‘Midsummer’ routine—”

  “Go, Marnie,” said Priya. Lucy and a couple of the others nodded in support.

  “Hear, hear,” said Jada.

  “Congratulations, Marnie!” said Keri, the group-three flyer.

  One by one, the girls made their way over to hug me or give me a high five. Arielle caught my eye, and I smiled, grateful for her support. I had a lot to learn if I was ever going to be the kind of leader she was, but I’d always have her example to follow.

  My promotion boosted my confidence. After the warm-up, we practiced the opening section of our “Midsummer” routine, the one we had planned for the first day of competition at Great Lakes. There’s a turning arabesque just ten seconds in. It was a stunt that I remembered Emma being nervous about, because it came up before you had a chance to shake off the run-on jitters. Not only did I have to do an arabesque—a one-leg, no-hands lift—but I had to hold it steady while the spotters pivoted a quick half-turn.

  I waited at my corner, heart pounding, while Coach Saylor hit Play on the CD player. “Sweetness” by Jimmy Eat World started up. “If you’re listening…” Since our group had the farthest to run, Priya and Lucy charged across the mats, with Amy Jo and me close behind them. I lined up squarely, and, right on cue, the bases straightened their arms. Amy Jo bounced me up onto the platform Priya and Lucy had made with their hands. Stomach muscles tight, I extended my left leg and squared my shoulders. I locked my gaze on my own image in the mirror. Be strong, Marnie, I prayed. No wobbling. The bases pivoted, and I held my own. When they stopped, I was staring straight at the space between Shona’s shoulder blades. And I was as steady as she was.

  “Sing it back…” The girls lowered me to the ground.

  I felt so pumped after that. I aced nearly every other stunt we did. I put the image of Emma’s fall right out of my mind. I forgot about the ground below me. I forgot about Shona and her stupid plot to get rid of me. I balanced on the bases’ palms and shoulders as if posing in thin air was the most natural thing to do.

  It felt great.

  I
walked out of the club on such a high that I walked right by Liam’s car without noticing it. He had to start the engine and follow me down the sidewalk.

  “Hey!” he called, leaning out the window.

  I turned around, surprised, and then, remembering Arielle’s advice, I turned away and kept on walking.

  “Hop in,” he called out.

  “No, thanks,” I said.

  Arielle hurried up until she was even with me, and the two of us walked resolutely toward her car. Liam sat in the idling car for a moment, then drove slowly away.

  chapter eleven

  Two weeks later, I was sitting next to Arielle on the bus to Toronto.

  We’d left Stratford just after nine. Registration for the competition didn’t start until four, but since it was February, Coach Saylor hadn’t wanted to take any chances with the driving conditions.

  I looked out the window. Black fields stretched out for miles, splotched in places with melting patches of snow. The reeds that stuck out here and there looked like they’d been dead forever. There were no signs of spring.

  The scene on the bus, by contrast, was like Spring Break in Florida. The girls bounced, chattering, from seat to seat. Knapsacks were opened, and snacks were passed around. Hip-hop music blared from somebody’s stereo. The situation was approaching mayhem, but Coach Saylor was up at the front, hooked into her iPod. Arielle made no attempt to calm the girls down either; in fact, she had a huge smile on her face.

  I was glad to see her so happy. She had seemed distant lately. She wasn’t nearly as psyched about competition season this year as she had been in the past. I’d wondered if it was because of the pressure to win provincials. In the past, when she was under pressure, Arielle got more involved, not less. This year she seemed to be pulling back from cheerleading a little bit. It was reassuring to see her as excited as the others on this trip.

  A camera flash blinded me. When I could see again, Keri was leaning over the seat, checking out my picture in her cell phone.

  “Wow, Marnie, not so flattering!” she laughed. I looked and saw that my eyes were closed, and my mouth was hanging open.

  “Erase it!” I said.

  “Sure thing,” she said, frantically punching keys while trying to keep the phone out of reach of my grabbing hands. “But it’s already on Facebook.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

  Arielle shook her head. “She’s bluffing.”

  “I am not!” Keri said.

  “Keri,” said Lucy, “don’t forget. You and I are sharing a room. Just hope you don’t drool or anything in your sleep…” Lucy mimed snapping a picture.

  Keri laughed and turned around in her seat. I reached across Arielle toward Lucy’s bag of chips.

  “Uh-uh!” Lucy said. “No chips for you. I have to lift you over my head, remember?”

  I grabbed some chips anyway. I don’t gain weight no matter what I eat. Too much nervous energy.

  But today it was the good, excited kind of nervousness. My performance had improved steadily over the previous two weeks, and I was feeling better about myself. I’d taken Arielle’s advice, and I’d practiced the entire routines—not just the stunt parts—all the way through, over and over. Arielle told me that knowing the routine so well you could do it in your sleep was the best thing you could do for your nerves. Then, even if you were really freaking out, your body could perform on autopilot.

  The Great Lakes Championship required two routines. First there was a three-minute qualifier, which we would perform on Friday afternoon. Then there was a longer freestyle event on Saturday. The short routine was “Midsummer.” The long routine was “Groovy.” I knew both routines solid. Whether I could execute them perfectly was another matter. But I could stick all the stunts in practice at least 90 percent of the time, which was the best you could ask for. Level-five stunts are tough. Once in a while they fall apart. But if you don’t attempt the tough stunts, you can’t get the top scores. You need to take the risks if you want the glory.

  We made great time and arrived in Toronto two hours too early to check in to our hotel. Coach Saylor rounded us up in the lobby for a head count.

  “All here,” she said. “Good. We have until three. What do you girls want to do?”

  We ended up going shopping at the Eaton Centre. We split up into groups of three or four, with instructions to meet up at three o’clock at a coffee place we’d spotted. Arielle, Lucy, Ashleigh and I were the first ones at the meeting spot. We bought fancy hot chocolates and then stood looking around for a big enough table.

  There was one near the front, but a trio of guys had backed their chairs into one side of it so that they could look out the window. Arielle moved toward them.

  “May I?” she asked.

  The closest guy was the hottest. He had dark blond hair, straight white teeth and a tan that suggested he’d recently been away somewhere warm. He smiled and moved his chair, making a sweeping gesture toward the table, like he was the host of the place.

  Arielle smiled, but sat down with her back to him. The rest of us joined her, talking in hushed tones.

  “Uh, good seats,” said Ashleigh. “Nice view.”

  Lucy and I giggled.

  A few minutes into our conversation, another of the cute guys, this one with slicked-back wavy hair, leaned toward us. “You girls on a field trip?”

  “What makes you think that?” asked Ashleigh.

  “Too young to be out of high school… too classy to be dropouts.”

  Lucy and I giggled again.

  “We’re on a road trip,” explained Ashleigh. “Cheerleading competition. What about you?”

  “Basketball tournament,” said Nice Teeth. “We’re from Ottawa. Carleton University. You?”

  We explained that we were from Stratford, which, of course, they’d barely heard of. But we discovered, to everyone’s surprise, we were all staying at the same hotel.

  “Well,” said Wavy Hair, “I’ll take that as a sign.”

  “A sign of what?” squeaked Lucy.

  “A sign that you girls were destined to come to our game tonight. To cheer us on. And then join us afterward for the victory celebration.”

  “Who says you’ll win?” shot back Arielle, without turning around in her chair to face him.

  “Oh, we’ll win,” said Nice Teeth.

  Back at the hotel, Arielle and I got dressed for dinner. “So,” I said, “are we going to that basketball game later? Ashleigh looked it up on Google Maps. It’s close. Probably three bucks each by cab.”

  Arielle smoothed an already-perfect eyebrow. “We won’t get back from dinner until eight.”

  I shrugged. “We’d be, like, twenty minutes late for the game. It would be fine.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “There’s some stuff I need to do tonight on my laptop. Email and stuff. But you can go without me, Mar. I know Lucy and Ashleigh want to go.”

  I was disappointed. How many chances would I get to hang out with hot university guys? Arielle was going to university next year. Maybe that was why it was no big deal to her. But I had a whole year to wait. And these weren’t only university guys, they were basketball players. It was bad enough that I didn’t have Liam to hang around with anymore. But Arielle? She and I used to have so much fun…

  I ended up going with Lucy, Ashleigh and six other girls from our team. By the time I got back to the room at midnight— Coach’s curfew—Arielle was already asleep.

  When I woke up in the morning, she was gone.

  chapter twelve

  There were a dozen reasonable explanations for Arielle’s empty bed, but it didn’t matter. I panicked. The moment I realized she was gone, a bad feeling washed over me. I banged on the door next to ours, and Ashleigh answered. “She probably just went for a jog,” she mumbled.

  “In downtown Toronto? I don’t think so.”

  Sharon appeared behind Ashleigh in the doorway, wearing pajamas in a monkey- and-banana pattern. “What’s wr
ong?” she asked.

  “Arielle’s not in the room, and Marnie’s all freaked out,” said Ashleigh.

  “Wasn’t she with you two last night?” Sharon asked. “Maybe she snuck out in the middle of the night with one of those ball players!”

  Ashleigh rolled her eyes at me. Sharon loved a scandal. Even if she had to make one up.

  I shook my head. “Arielle wasn’t even with us at the basketball game last night. Don’t make this worse, Sharon, just for your own entertainment.”

  Sharon made a face at me like I’d hurt her feelings. As if her feelings even mattered at a time like this.

  I had to alert Coach Saylor. I ducked back into my room and dressed as fast as I could. By the time I came out, a small crowd of cheerleaders in pajamas stood in the hall outside my door.

  “What’s going on?” asked Jada.

  “Ari’s gone.” I fought my way through the pack, striding quickly toward room 208, which Coach was sharing with one of the chaperones.

  “What do you mean, gone?” Jada said.

  “Gone, as in not here,” I snapped.

  “Did she take all her stuff?”

  Amy Jo’s question stopped me in my tracks. I thought back to the room I’d just left. There’d been a blue skirt hanging in the closet and a bottle of contact lens solution on the counter.

  “No,” I answered, suddenly relieved.

  “Her stuff’s still there.”

  When I talked to Coach Saylor, she pointed out that it was eight in the morning. Arielle wasn’t even late for breakfast yet. “She should have said where she was going,” Coach acknowledged, “but I’ve known Arielle a long time. Sometimes she needs space. Head back to your rooms and get dressed. Meet me in the restaurant at eight thirty. I’m sure Arielle will be back soon.”

  The girls straggled away, leaving me feeling a bit sheepish. But I couldn’t shake the bad feeling, no matter what anyone said.

  Arielle did not come back for breakfast. And, she was not back in time for our ten-thirty bus to the conference center.

  And, even worse, Arielle hadn’t left behind all of her stuff. She’d left a suitcase, the skirt and the lens cleaner, but her makeup bag was gone and so were her laptop, her purse, her boots and her coat. All the important stuff.