Alex Gaskarth Must Die

For the rest of our hour-long lunch period, Lauren fills us in on all the stuff she and Alex have been doing. Hooking up in janitor’s closets (‘Sorry about that, by the way. We thought we’d locked it.’), impromptu lunches at Starbucks (‘He drinks a vanilla latte with whipped cream on the top, and goes for pumpkin when it’s in.’), and band practices (‘They already have an EP out, you know. It’s called The Three Words to Remember in Dealing with the End. His voice is a little eh, but I guess he’s still growing into it or whatever.’). It would feel like a typical gossip session between girlfriends about a new boyfriend, except for the fact that we’re technically on the lookout for some kind of chink in Gaskarth’s armor.

I’m not going to lie, he does seem to be a sweet boyfriend and an alright enough person. I’d probably be his friend if it weren’t for the whole Alex-Gaskarth-must-die thing, and the fact that he takes every chance possible to annoy me.

‘He actually seems kind of nice,’ Zoe says, voicing my thoughts entirely.

‘Yeah,’ Brittany agrees. ‘The problem is-’

‘That what he’s doing for me is exactly what he’s done for every other girl before me,’ Lauren finishes a little glumly.

‘Right,’ Brittany continues, plowing on relentlessly. She jabs the air with her finger. ‘We need to get him emotionally, not just physically. You need to get under his skin. Make him fall in love with you.’

‘And then rip it out from under him, I know, I know,’ Lauren says. She hesitates for a second. ‘How are you supposed to make someone fall in love with you, though? It’s not like there’s a rule book for it.’

We shrug and shake our heads together. I don’t know about the others, but I’ve never been in love. I’m not even sure if I believe in it, for that matter. All I have is the countless romantic movies that have flooded Hollywood, and I doubt Lauren and Alex’s ‘love’ is going to be anything like The Titanic. ‘Just...be a nice girlfriend,’ I suggest vaguely.

‘Have, like, emotional conversations,’ Zoe says. We exchange a bewildered, slightly panicky look and shrug minutely at each other.

‘Just keep going,’ Brittany says. ‘Do whatever you’re doing right now. When we meet up we can talk about it. We’ll just work it out as we go along.’

‘Okay,’ Lauren says doubtfully, but Brittany’s already moving on. She’s produced a black duffel out of nowhere and is pulling out- Oh, no.

‘No, no, no,’ Zoe’s already protesting. ‘I don’t even know what goes on in a cheerleading team, I can’t do this.’

‘Yes, you can,’ Brittany insists. ‘And you will.’ She pulls out two cheerleading uniforms with the school colours, red, black, and white emblazoned across the front, and tosses them to Zoe and I. I catch it and hold it up in front of me, scowling a little at the shortness of the skirt.

‘Is this a- a skort?’ Zoe asks, her voice tinged with amusement. Lauren barks out a laugh and sure enough, there is a kind of fabric attached to the bottom of the skirt.

‘Pfft- No,’ Brittany says. ‘They’re a little bigger than panties, just so, you know-’

‘You won’t be flashing your thongs at the crowd?’ Lauren asks. Brittany blushes but laughs with us.

‘It’s to preserve modesty,’ she responds with some modicum of dignity.

‘Of course,’ I laugh. ‘Are we supposed to wear this every day?’ I ask skeptically.

‘We’d freeze to death in the winter,’ Lauren agrees.

‘Only on Mondays and Wednesdays, but on Thursdays we all wear dresses and we colour-coordinate them,’ Brittany says seriously. I shoot a are-you-kidding-me? glance at Zoe and turn back to Brittany, all my doubt in the cheerleading ‘sport’ reaffirmed. ‘Once it gets cold, wear whatever you like, but with our cheerleading jackets on top.’ She throws a pair of jackets at us to punctuate it.

‘What about the actual cheerleading?’ I ask.

‘You’re athletic enough, you should be alright,’ Brittany says to me. I can’t help but be a little flattered by the comment; my early-morning runs aren’t there for nothing. She turns towards Zoe. ‘Don’t know about you though; can you do a cartwheel?’

‘Uh-’ Zoe stands up and takes a couple steps and then breaks into a run, finally jumping into the air, doing a full somersault and sticking the landing. She brushes herself off and walks back to us nonchalantly.

‘That was-’ Lauren gapes at her, blinking a little too much.

‘Wow,’ I say appreciatively with a smile. She grins back impishly, her blue eyes shining happily.

‘It’s adequate,’ Brittany says.

‘Adequate? I doubt any of your double-D teammates can do that without their boobs knocking off some innocent bystander’s face,’ I say incredulously.

Brittany breaks into a smile. ‘Okay, you are amazing. Top of the pyramid though, so you better not be scared of heights,’ she warns.

- - -

‘Seriously, where’d that crazy backflip-somersault thing come from?’ I ask after lunch is done and we’re walking to music theory with Brittany. I pull my new cheerleader skirt down awkwardly and try not to glare at all the guys who have suddenly taken an interest in me. After the dress code rules of the cheerleader squad were drilled into us by Brittany, she and the rest of the team made us change into them. The tank top is okay, if a tiny bit too cropped, but it’s the swishy skirt I have a problem with.

Zoe laughs and waves a hand modestly, her own cheerleader uniform fitting perfectly and not even trying to flip up. ‘Years of forced gymnastics lessons when I was a kid. I have a whole drawer of medals at home.’ She grimaces.

‘Lucky,’ Brittany says. ‘I had to beg my mom for gymnastics lessons when I was a kid.’

‘I had to beg my mom not to put me in gymnastics lessons when I was a kid,’ I groan. ‘She still put me in anyway, but I broke my arm like the second week in so I got out of it.’

‘Ouch,’ Zoe winces.

‘I’ve never broken a bone before,’ Brittany muses. ‘Seems painful.’ Zoe and I laugh at the understatement.

‘Well, yeah. But it’s, like, battle wounds,’ I say reverently.

‘And, for like the week after you first get your cast, everyone’s your best friend and wants to sign it,’ Zoe laughs.

‘The only bad thing is you can’t do anything,’ I say. ‘Like, it’s cool not doing any school work for the first day, but then it starts to pile up and when you heal, you have to make up all of it.’

‘Crutches are even worse,’ Zoe adds. ‘It’s so awkward when you’re outside and you can’t freaking move.’ Just as I’m murmuring an assent, two other members of the cheerleading team walk up to us perkily. It’s funny, I’d expected all the cheerleaders to be needlessly bitchy but they’re actually nice, in a slightly vapid kind of way.

‘Hey, guys!’ Jenny Packman greets, beaming at us.

‘Um, hey,’ I reply.

‘Hi!’ Zoe says, much more cheerily.

‘So, anyway, we’re throwing a party for you guys,’ Jenny continues.

Julia Enzerink nods in agreement. ‘Since you guys are like, new to the cheerleading squad and everything.’

‘Kind of like a coming out party,’ Jenny continues. ‘We’ll introduce you to everyone. It’ll be so fun!’

‘When?’ Brittany asks. ‘And where?’

‘Oh, uh, we were thinking Saturday at my place,’ Julia says. ‘My brother can break into the bar for us and my parent’s are out of town.’

‘Sounds good,’ Brittany says. ‘You guys in?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Zoe shrugs.

‘Alright,’ I agree. Truthfully, I’ve never even been to one of those high school house parties you always see in the movies- invisible until all of a week ago, remember. And I am curious. Just a bit.

‘Starts at 8, ends whenever,’ Julia says quickly with a glance at the time on her phone. ‘I’ve gotta go, but spread the word!’ she calls out to us as she walks away.

- - -

In music theory, we get a free day to ‘compose’ a piece. For most of the students this means scribbling random quarter notes in random spaces and claiming the arrangement to be ‘artistic’ when Mr Quick plays it for us on the piano and our eardrums all simultaneously die a little bit.

Zoe’s actually taking it seriously. She’s sitting on the ground with her legs crossed, tapping her nose as she looks down at the blank music sheet with a furrow in her brow, occasionally miming playing the piano and mouthing ‘Ah!’ when she hits a mini epiphany. Brittany and I’s are already lying by the wayside; she’s just scribbled in random notes while I’ve switched off between Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star every other bar.

We’ve claimed a spot in the back of the music classroom and propped our bags next to us in a kind of makeshift wall. Brittany claims this wards off the gossipers who would just love to know what’s going on with us; I think it’s kind of bitchy, but really, the only other people in this class are potheads and some randomers who just wanted a free period so there’s not much to worry about.

Brittany’s ‘busy’ constructing a mass text message informing everyone (‘Well, mostly everyone. We don’t want any freaky criminals.’) about the party on Saturday, so I’m just fiddling around with my new iPod nano.

‘Hey, isn’t that the new iPod?’ Zoe asks, looking up from her paper.

‘Yeah,’ I reply, holding it up and beaming happily at her. I’d begged and pleaded my parents for it and they’d let me camp outside the store when it came out. Robin had come with me, of course, and she’d gotten one as well; hers in white, mine in black.

‘Lucky,’ Zoe says. ‘They look so cool.’

‘They are so cool,’ I say enthusiastically. ‘This is my baby.’

‘Have you named it yet?’ Brittany says, deadpan, looking up from her phone but her fingers still flying across the keyboard. She glances down quickly to check for any typos and satisfied, looks back up at me.

‘I was thinking John McCartney, but then I thought Ringo and Paul might feel left out, so I’m just going for Travis Lennon now,’ I reply seriously. I’ve never really been one for naming my belongings, except for my camera (Liz), but my iPod kind of feels like one of those things. It’s big, and I can tell it’ll be with me for a while, so I may as well name it. Robin had just rolled her eyes when I introduced her to Travis Lennon, but she’s not one to talk as she’s named her glasses John Smith.

‘I get the Lennon and Ringo, but where’s the Travis come from?’ Brittany asks.

‘Travis Barker,’ Zoe and I respond simultaneously.

Brittany blinks at us. ‘And he is?’ she prompts, when we don’t say anything more.

‘Travis Barker, the best drummer in the history of drummers,’ Zoe begins reverently.

‘One-third of the heavenly thing known as Blink-182-’

‘-A band that has now broken up-’

‘Purveyor of the honourable rabbit, and-’

‘Okay, okay, I get the point,’ Brittany laughs, waving us off. ‘He is your God and you worship him, and so on, and so on. I always wondered why you guys always had rabbits on you.’

‘The rabbit is a way of life!’ Zoe and I shriek together, brandishing our rabbit pins at Brittany as she falls back laughing.

‘We wouldn’t expect a mere mortal to understand,’ Zoe scoffs with a smile.

‘I cower in your presence, O Wise Ones,’ Brittany jokes through a laugh. ‘Now, shut up, I have a French test next period and you-’ she points at me ‘-need to help me study.’ Zoe goes back to her music with a small smile on her face as Brittany hefts out her French textbook with about a million pink Post-It note sticking out at odd angles.

‘Avec plaisir,’ I say doubtfully, but she just rolls her eyes and flips the page open to a sample conversation.

‘Bonjour, Mademoiselle, comment vas-tu?’

- - -

From Brittany L. to Rebecca H. (CC) at 1:14PM
WHAT: Welcoming party for Rebecca and Zoe, newest members of the cheerleading team!
WHERE: Julia’s house, text her for the address if you don’t already know it.
WHEN: Saturday 17th at 8 to whenever
WHO: You and any hot friends.
NOT: BYOB- Matt and his friends are finally putting their bartending skills to good use. (but if there’s any weird things you like mixed in - tyler, looking at you and your italian soda - bring that, we’re only gonna have the classics.)
THERE WILL BE: A heated pool, a hot tub, and several guest bedrooms. ;)