Free The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading by Charity Tahmaseb, Darcy Vance

even better. “You know what they should have at cheerleading tryouts?” I said. “A quiz on—”
    “On all the sports!” Moni’s face lit up. “Exactly! How else can you know when to cheer?” To emphasize her point, she slapped the mat.
    Moni’s eyes went huge. I sucked in my breath. That creeping dread? It returned, only stronger. At any moment a wrestling dad would probably drag us from the gym by our hair ribbons. We waited, but aside from a quick glare from the boys on the mat, nothing happened. The first match ended, and I couldn’t tell if we had won or lost.
    Somehow, Moni and I worked up a routine. “Victory, victory, that’s our cry!” was an old standby, and we took turns giving each boy a personalized cheer as he left the mat. “Way to go, Logan!” “Way to go, Steve!” “Way to go, Rick!”
    I was in the middle of a straddle jump for a senior named Mark when Jack Paulson walked through the gym doors. My ankle crumpled on the landing, and I knocked into Moni.
    “What the—” Moni paused, then squealed. “Oh, my God!”
    Jack climbed the bleachers and selected a spot where his long legs could stretch out unhindered. From a white paper bag, he pulled mini-cheeseburger after mini-cheeseburger and washed them all down with a half-gallon carton of milk.
    “No way anyone can eat that much,” said Moni.
    “I think it’s skim milk,” I pointed out.
    “Oh, sure.” She gave me a look and crossed her eyes. “That makes all the difference.”
    “What’s he doing here, anyway?”
    “I heard he shows up at the girls’ basketball games too.” The kids in Math League were huge gossips, and Moni heard things before the rumor mill even had a chance to get rolling. “He’s just cool like that.”
    I tried to turn my attention back to the match, but Jack was always there, teasing my peripheral vision. His dark hair, his bright red Chuck Taylor All Stars. A flash of milk carton. Okay, so maybe that part was a little gross. It was also…endearing. So much for Todd’s God of Mount Prairie Stone theory—Jack Paulson wasn’t some deity, he was a mortal boy who drank from milk cartons. He probably left the toilet seat up too.
    But Jack never left his heavenly perch in the stands, not even when the meet ended and others around him were pulling on their coats. A couple of skinny wrestlers flashed us smiles as they headed for the locker room. Rick sauntered past and gave us a thumbs-up. He scaled the bleachers and plopped down next to Jack.
    I grabbed Moni by the wrist. “Come on, let’s go.”
    “But—” Moni pulled away. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
    “Not us.”
    “Then why are they staring? Gah, don’t look.” Moni bent down, pretending to tie her shoe. “Okay, now look. Are they still staring?”
    I shook my pom-poms as though the fringe was in desperate need of fluffing. Mid-shake, I darted a quick glance toward the stands. Rick and Jack were, in fact, looking our way.
    “Yeah.” The pom-poms slipped in my hands. “They’re still—oh, my God. Jack’s standing up. Hurry, let’s get out of here.”
    Instead, Moni switched to her other shoe. “Just in case. Wouldn’t want to trip on my laces.”
    “Stalling is so middle school,” I muttered.
    Jack strolled forward. “Hey.” He raised the milk carton in a toast. “Nice job tonight.”
    Moni sprang up, shoes apparently in order. “Thanks! Did you see Bethany’s jump?”
    He nodded. “A little trouble on the re-entry?”
    Great. More humiliation. But Jack looked seriously concerned as he asked about my ankle. Seriously concerned.
    My heart stopped.
    It didn’t start up again until he asked twice if I was okay. I gulped, looking to Moni, hoping she’d rescue me. But Moni opened her mouth to speak, then froze. A half second later, Rick came up behind Jack.
    “So, Paulson,” said Rick. “You tell ’em?”
    Moni seemed to be in a Rick Mangers–induced coma. “Tell us what?” I choked out.
    “About