So I'm A Double Threat Read online

  The lunch bell rings and we’re the first in line for our healthy snack, another perk of being in ASB. We can get in line before the bell rings so we always have our lunch before other students can even make it out of their classrooms.

  The four of us sit under our tree and begin to eat quietly. I think about what Keesha said this morning. Will Amy sit with us or is she going to ditch us for Alex and the football team? I have a feeling Steph and Keesha are thinking the same thing.

  It isn’t long before Amy whips out her brand new cell and touches the screen. She smiles, her cheeks flush as she reads the text. She gathers her stuff quickly, fumbling over her food and trying to get her stuff inside her bag. I know where she is going. We all do.

  “Hey, guys, I’ll be back in a bit,” she mutters. “I’m gonna go chill with Alex for a while.”

  “Have fun." I manage to say to her with a fake smile.

  “Don’t hurry on our account,” Keesh says, sarcastically.

  Steph doesn’t say anything. She just smiles. Although, it looks about as sincere as mine.

  “Okay, bye,” Amy mumbles as she walks away.

  This is it.

  Our tight-knit, real-life Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants—well, without the pants, or the travel—is coming to an end. This is just the beginning. I can feel it. We’re not the same girls who were inseparable only just a few weeks ago. It’s all changing now—just one guy, okay one freakin’ hot guy, can do so much damage. What happened to “friends are forever, boys whatever?” Even though Amy is with the guy of my dreams, I don’t want us to…just…fall apart.

  We’re supposed to be forever.

  Chapter Nine

  I can’t believe soccer try-outs are Monday. It’s only been a little over a month since school started and the thought of running for hours after school during practice seems daunting but my fat ass can use the exercise. This Healthy Kids crap is not helping any either, I just get home from school starving, and binge with some Skinny Cow ice creams—because one is not enough—and a diet soda. My mom is going to have to do some grocery shopping. Carrots and fat-free yogurt is not going to cut it once practice starts. French fries. I’m going to need some French fries.

  Both Keesha and I are going to try out—she’ll probably make Varsity and I might be lucky enough to make the Freshmen team. I love to play sports but I’m just not naturally athletic, especially with soccer. Keesh is good though. She’s like the players in the World Cup. That freakin’ good, really. She can do all kinds of tricks and stuff. I’m lucky if I don’t trip while I’m dribbling the ball. My dad actually laughs at me. Really, he laughs at me. The few times he’s been to my games, he joked he didn’t want to tell anyone I was his daughter. Funny, but sad.

  Seriously, I’m not that bad. One time I even made a goal—it wasn’t intentional or anything, but it was still a goal. Keesha was taking a corner kick and I was standing in my spot in the goal. Before I knew it the ball hit me in the vajayjay—you know, down there—and flew in the goal. I didn’t even realize what happened until everyone started screaming and running toward me to hug and congratulate me. Who cares if I didn’t even mean for it to happen? It was still a goal, my goal.

  I wish Steph would try out with us. It’s not like you have to be MLS material to be on the Freshmen team. At least, we could be there together. She’s the only one of us who isn’t going to have something to do once soccer starts. Amy is never free now that she and Alex spend every freakin’ waking moment together. She still hangs with us, but she has also started mingling with the senior girls as well. This would’ve probably happened anyway because her older sister Jen is a senior, but since she’s with Alex, it only makes it easier for her to ditch us at lunch or after school.

  Not all the female seniors enjoy Amy’s company though. The stereotypical hot, stuck-up cheerleaders hate her with a passion, since they have this prehistoric idea the football players belong to them. The football team kind of sucks, so I would say they can have them, but this is Alex we’re talking about. I guess if I can’t have Alex, I’m secretly happy the stupid rah-rahs can’t have him either, even though Amy will probably be one of them someday anyway. Actually, I’d be much happier if he hadn’t chosen to be with one of my best friends.

  It bites how things have changed. Amy doesn’t walk home with us anymore; she goes to the library for tutoring, even though she doesn’t need it, so Alex can give her a ride home after his football practice. How ridiculous is that? Who wants to hang out in the library for two hours after school? By the time she gets home, the rest of us have already debriefed the day, eaten to our hearts content, finished our homework, checked out reruns of The Hills, and been on MySpace a kabillion times. What a waste of time for Amy. Damn, I guess Alex must be worth it. Actually, I know he’s worth it and I wish I knew how worth it he really is.

  There go my hormones again.

  You would think I’m some middle aged woman hitting her stride or something, with the heat I feel down there just thinking about Alex’s worthiness. The only thing I’ve ever done with a guy is kiss, and a little boob action. There were times when my hands, or the guys, were straying toward the nether regions but we either chickened out or got interrupted.

  Maybe I’m all hot like this because I haven’t kissed a guy since the eighth grade dance. It was a good one too. Eric is so freakin’ hot. He must’ve watched soap operas or Sex in the City to know how to move his lips and where to put his hands. He always touched the side of my cheek first, then put his hand through my hair and pulled me toward him. It always started out gentle and sweet, then ended savage-like as I could feel the tug on my hair, and my lips and tongue molded into his. It didn’t hurt or anything, it was roughly satisfying. I could live with kisses like that for the rest of my life. Let’s just say I could’ve probably used a panty liner every time Eric kissed me. And he was a good boyfriend too. Why did I break up with him again?

  Damn, maybe I forgot about Eric too soon? Hmm…I’m going to have to check him out in English on Monday. Since we have English sixth period, if things go well, I can talk to him after school too. Maybe a little hook-up will take my mind off Alex, and Amy.

  And Ben, too. What the hell is going on with him anyway?

  I must’ve been daydreaming for quite a long time, because when Amy comes into my room, I realize I missed the whole movie. I remember watching the beginning and that’s about it. I probably wouldn’t have noticed the credits rolling if Amy hadn’t shown up.

  What the heck is she doing here?

  “So what’s up, Amy?” Keesha glares at her. “Your calendar wasn’t all booked up this weekend?”

  Keesha can be rude sometimes, but Amy deserves it. I can’t remember the last weekend we were all together. Oh wait…yes I can…it was when Alex and Amy hooked up for the first time. Wow. It seems like eons ago.

  Amy just plops on my bed next to Steph. “So what are you guys doin’ tonight?” She’s acting as if nothing has changed.

  “This is it.” I throw my hands into the air. “Don’t faint or anything with all this excitement, okay.”

  I’m trying to be funny to break the ice, but I don’t think it’s working. They all just stare at me.

  “Yeah, we’re just going to hang out, watch movies, eat, that’s about it.” Steph gives her the run-down.

  “Sounds good,” Amy mutters. She then asks, hesitantly, “Mind if I stay?”

  Keesh, Steph, and I look at each other surprised, before Keesha says, “Go for it, knock yourself out.”

  We all just look at each other again, unsure what we’re going to do or say next. I take out my storage totes with nail polish, files, clippers, all the mani-pedi essentials. I begin by swabbing away the polish from my toes, smearing black paint on my skin. The others begin pillaging through the boxes too. Keesha takes out some cotton balls to use with the nail polish remover. Amy takes out some bright blue nail polish. Steph grabs a nail file before walking over to my stereo.

  Soon, al
l I hear is the familiar set of America’s Top 40 coming from my stereo. I love listening to KIIS at night. JoJo is freakin’ hilarious.

  “Girls, listen, listen…JoJo is going to do the Question of the Night,” I exclaim.

  We all stop what we’re doing and listen.

  “Tonight, we’re taking callers from people with the most embarrassing doctor’s visit. We want to hear it all. What did you do? What did your doctor do? Who was it embarrassing for? Your doctor or for you? Let’s take our first caller…we’ve got Kim here, calling in from the I.E….tell us your story,” he announces.

  “Hi JoJo…well, this one time I was in the patient room waiting for my doctor to come in. When he did, he had a big fat chub showing through his scrubs. I could actually see the shape of his friend in clear detail, I could probably pick it out in a line up,” the caller says.

  Oh my gosh. I would’ve died.

  “Damn, girl, what were you being seen for?” Jojo jokes.

  “Only a cold, but I wonder who he was examining before me.” She chuckles.

  “That’s hilarious,” Steph says, as she laughs. Amy and Keesh are laughing too, and nodding their heads.

  “That was a good one.” I continue to chuckle. We all go back to our nails, pausing every time JoJo comes on with another story.

  “Hey…have you guys ever seen JoJo?” Steph asks.

  “Oh my gosh, yes,” Amy replies, with excitement.

  “He is so freakin’ hot,” Keesh says.

  “Totally. I wonder how old he is. He looks so young. Too bad he’s not our age,” I add, raising my brow.

  “Who cares? He’s damn good to look at,” Keesh responds, with a giggle.

  “I wonder what Fat Daniel and Karli are gonna do tonight?” Steph says, as she files away.

  “Did you guys hear the one last night?” I ask.

  Amy is already laughing, and blurts out, “Yeah, it was freakin’ funny. I wanna take a field trip to UCLA now.”

  “What happened? I missed it,” Keesh questions.

  “It was a Hump Night.” The girls are staring at me with anticipation. “They went to UCLA and Fat Daniel pulled down his pants to fake hump a statue of a naked lady. What’s even funnier is the statue is…upside down.” I pause because I’m giggling so much. “Picture it. Hmm…I’m thinking it probably looked like a number…possibly a sixty nine…haha.”

  “So is your mom still stalking Ryan or what?” Amy asks.

  “Pretty much. This morning she was giving me the low down on all the celebrity gossip…because you know, Ryan says,” I say, mocking my mother. Since Seacrest took over the morning show, my mom has become infatuated with listening. She begins every morning with “Ryan says….” She definitely has a major crush on him. She goes throughout her day talking about Ryan and Ellen, and what they had to say as if they’re her real friends. My dad says it’s like an affair—an on-air affair. I doubt my dad has to worry about Ryan whisking Mom away any time soon.

  “Yeah, well the only thing my mom loves more than Seacrest right now is New Kids on the Block,” Keesh says, rolling her eyes.

  “No kidding, my mom’s been going crazy since they came back. I can’t believe our moms camped out like little girls just to get their autographs,” I add.

  “I know, that was nuts. How long did they wait? Like over 24 hours, right? Your mom invited my mom and she was devastated she couldn’t go. You would’ve thought the world was ending with the way she went on. Then your mom came back with a picture with what’s his name…” Steph pauses to think.

  “Danny.” I fill in the story.

  “Yeah, him. She wanted to cry ‘cause she didn’t get a pic with the one with the blue eyes. It’s crazy,” Steph snickers, shaking her head. “You know they already have tickets to every concert in the area already?”

  Keesh and I nod. Our mothers are lunatics. I don’t think I’d ever go insane over a boy band like they are.

  “Wanna know what’s even crazier? My mom created this virtual city on the guy’s website called Dannytown or something. She says all the Danny girls go there and they have official addresses in this make believe town. They’re nuts. They even made t-shirts for crying out loud.” I can’t believe I just admitted that about my own mother.

  “Yeah, I think all the women call their fanaticism Obsessive Compulsive New Kids Disorder.” Steph tries to sound clinical and then bursts out with the giggles. We all pause, look at each other, and bust up laughing.

  Amy finally says, “Okay, your moms are psycho. My mom actually downloaded them on her iPod…but I don’t think she has this disorder or whatever.” She chuckles. “They have some pretty good beats though. I like dancing to it.”

  Amy’s right, they do have some smooth dancing songs. And if it makes my mom happy, then I guess it’s all good. It’s just a little weird though. And maybe just a tad bit embarrassing.

  Though I have to say, “You know what though? When I’m my mom’s age, I wouldn’t mind my man having a slammin’ body like Danny’s.”

  The girls all nod in agreement.

  Keesh raises her eyebrows and says, “I know right.” She walks over to my radio and turns the volume up a notch. I’m on my feet before the first verse of old school White Lines begins. Enough with all the crazy talk about our moms, we need to let off some steam.

  It’s not long before we’re all up dancing, doing booty bumps, calling each other out.

  This is so fun.

  My girls are all together.

  No bullshit.

  No guys.

  No bitchiness.

  Just us.

  Together, like old times.

  Chapter Ten

  Drill after drill, lap after lap, stretching, sprinting, I thought I’d die before we even get a break. These are try-outs, right? I didn’t realize the goal is to kill the potential athletes before we actually get a chance to play in a game. This is what they call “weeding out” the weak ones.

  Kill me now.

  Let me be a weak one.

  Maybe I will get cut. I don’t waste any time showing weakness. The thing I feared most actually happens. When I’m dribbling the ball down field, I trip right over it. There isn’t even anyone around me and down I go. As I’m trying to control the ball, my foot rolls right over it and I flip into a somersault. Could I look any more ridiculous?

  High school tryouts aren’t anything like I’ve experienced before. Someone please tell me what squat-thrusts or 5,000 sit-ups have to do with kicking a ball into a goal? Nothing, I say—not a damn thing. If I even survive until tomorrow’s practice, I may have to reevaluate my decision to take this abuse for an entire season. Maybe I should try-out for something more like the …the golf team. Don’t they get to ride around in a golf cart all day? I doubt Tiger Woods runs bleachers everyday to train.

  “So what’d you think of the first day?” Keesha asks, without struggle. She’s not breathing hard at all. She didn’t even break a sweat.

  “My quads feel like they’re gonna freakin’ explode.” I practically choke on my words. My throat is on fire, and I still haven’t steadied my breath. “That’s what I think.”

  “Chill, Meggie, it’ll get better tomorrow.” She laughs and leans over to push me.

  Easy for her to say, she dribbles the ball around the field like an angel, all graceful and flawless.

  “That’s if I make it to tomorrow. I doubt if I’ll even be able to freakin’ walk.”

  “I told you if we were going to take the fall off, we still needed to condition, but you didn’t listen.”

  We decided since it was going to be our first year of high school and we had a lot on our plates, we’d skip the fall season of community soccer. We planned on running everyday to stay in shape. Guess who didn’t keep up their end of the bargain? Yup. Me. Keesha ran every day and I…well…I just thought about running, but I never did.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I tell her. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  Keesh and I finish packing up
our soccer crap: shin guards, sweaty socks, water bottles, and cleats.

  Keesh stands up with ease and holds her hand out to me, “You ready?”

  I take her hand for support and she pulls my fat ass off the ground. My legs quiver as they adjust to being upright again. I can actually feel my heartbeat pulsing through my thighs.

  “Yeah, we should call Steph and tell her we’ll be a while…I think my grandma can walk faster than I can right now.”

  Keesh gives me a funny look. “Neither one of your grandmas is alive.”

  “Exactly,” I snicker.

  She shakes her head. “You’re sick.”

  Keesha and I walk to Steph’s after tryouts to work on homework. Amy is, of course, out with Alex somewhere. I’m not sure where. She doesn’t tell us much. I still talk to Alex, on the phone, but we never bring up Amy. We just talk about school, TV, music, or whatever comes up.

  “Let’s start with science and get that stupid crossword out of the way,” Keesh suggests.

  “I already got most of it done before we left class.” I know it’s rude, but I always work ahead while my teachers are taking. Beats wasting time at home. “We only need four across and seven down.”

  I share what I completed in class and Steph gets one of the answers we still need. We share our work. We don’t cheat. We have busy lives, other things to do. Like watch TV, eat, get online, and now soccer. We can’t spend all day working on worthless crossword puzzles or conjugating verbs in Spanish. Not to mention, being in honors translates to piles of homework every night. Not all of it is useless, like the worksheets we get in science though. Ms. Gelson assigns some pretty challenging essays, and in her class, we’re expected to reflect on everything we read. I don’t think I’ve ever annotated text in my whole life as much as I have this year. It wouldn’t be so bad if I actually liked anything we’re required to read.

  So, in order to cope with the countless hours of homework, we share. It’s a skill we’ve been perfecting since we were born. You know, parents are always teaching their kids to share, right? We have just moved beyond sharing Barbies and Poly Pockets. We share…homework.