They think we don’t know jack,
They think we just throw smack
Racing cars, hiding, and getting cash,
Rolling down the lane is how we’re strollin’,
If they don’t like the groove, they can get rollin’.
This time, everyone joins Kali in the dance move. Despite my sensory overload, and the noise of the bass pummeling my brain, I can’t help smiling. That’s my friend, smoking up the stadium.
I continue straining my eyes for Alice and finally locate her—right behind the goal, another prime viewing section. She’s wearing a hot-pink sweater over her four-hundred-dollar jeans and waving pom-poms. Her head swivels side to side, then looks behind her, below her. She must be looking for Mr. Frederics, who I don’t see anywhere. That’s good. Maybe he decided not to come to the game.
On one side of Alice are three empty chairs, and on the other, Melanie and Vicky. Unlike the rest of the crowd, the girlsare sitting, both staring at their cell phones.
Time to move. If I can reach Alice while Kali still has the crowd pumped up and on their feet, maybe I can dose her without anyone noticing.
“I’ll be back,” I tell Pascha, then slip away.
The path to Alice is slow and treacherous. I skirt bodies flinging their arms around, some still holding their drinks. I dodge hoards of barking Bulldog fans. The journey’s as slow as wading through mounds of sand.
I’m an extra large
And I charge by the pound,
So get your nuts and chews before I come around.
Living loud and queer is how I travel
If they don’t like my gear, they can hit the gravel.
What did she say? Living loud andqueer? I stop in my tracks.
Kali just outted herself.
Vicky’s hands fly to her mouth. She turns her astonished eyes toward Melanie, and the two of them have a staring contest. Kali keeps up her flow, knees now bowing inward and outward and arms pumping up and down. Her audience copies her, yelling out the chorus and nearly drowning her out. Besides Vicky and Melanie, no one even notices Kali’s confession.
So that’s what Kali was talking about when she said nosquirrel was going to push her around. And her speech about earthworms and not letting fear stop her.
With a winning state of mind,
We’re gonna catch you from behind,
We iPhone, homegrown, won’t go home until we own.
In your face, keep the pace, pass, and unlock it,
Shooting from the line, Panthers go rock it!
Kali didn’t need me to break any rules for her. She could hold her own.
I sag into the metal railing and it digs into the bumps of my spine. Kali didn’t even confide in me about what she planned to do, more proof that she doesn’t need me, not like I need her. My eyes grows misty, and I cage my chest with my arms, feeling like the emotions that swarm inside might suddenly fly away and leave me empty. I have to keep moving.
By the time I finally arrive at Alice’s section, Kali has finished and everyone’s back in their seats. I want to bang my head on the railing. Now I’ll have to wait for the next time everybody’s on their feet and no one’s paying attention to me. I try to blend into a post a few rows up from Alice.
A cheer goes out as the Panthers file back on to the field. The sight of Court in his white soccer uniform makes my stomach turn a clumsy cartwheel.
The cheerleaders spell out “Sawyer” letter by letter with their bodies. Soon everyone begins chanting his name, especially Alice, who pumps her pom-poms with every beat of the cheer. When the cheer ends, she stands up and looks around her.
