Free P.S. I Loathe You by Lisi Harrison

moccasins with festive bells dangling off the fringes. Butt-sweeping ponytail extensions took care of their hair—bronzing gel and MAC took care of the rest.
    The Massie-quin stood proudly at the end of the judges’ table, dressed in one of the three remaining uniforms.
    “As I mentioned in my weekend e-mail blast,” Massie began, already feeling very captain-ish, “you will approach the table, recite your two-line cheer, and tell us in one word what you think you’d add to my squad.”
    An anxious murmur was building among the dense crowd. Massie suddenly realized it would take hours to get through everyone. By then, Pinkberry would be closed, Bean would have peed her doggy Diesels, and Dempsey would be logged off for the night.
    She lifted a finger, informing the wannabes to wait one more minute.
    “Change of plan,” she whispered to the PC. “Each one of you gets to handpick one person to audition. The rest will have to go.”
    The girls opened their mouths in protest. Massie silenced them with a palm.
    “Look for stocky ones who look like they could hold a lot of weight on their shoulders. The more they look like Chicken McNuggets, the better. ”
    “McNuggetttttts,” Dylan burped.
    Massie elbowed her in the McRib. “Lady behavior!” she hissed.
    “I already told you.” Alicia tugged her long ponytail in frustration. “Pyramids are out!”
    Massie lifted her palm again. “TCHS.”
    “What?”
Alicia snapped.
    “The Captain Has Spoken.”
    Alicia rolled her eyes and sighed while Massie made a mental note to eliminate pyramids from her routine. Then she made a second mental note: Convince everyone it had been her idea.
    They spent the next ten minutes walking the line and making their selections. Five lucky girls and one thin boy were invited to the table. The remaining fifty-two stormed off in an angry huff—leaving behind a sandstorm of multicolored glitter and a howling gale of lawsuit threats.
    “First in line, please approach the judges.” Massie restacked her stacked paper as a short-legged baby-faced girl with light brown eyes and a sea blue Juicy sweat suit marched forward. “Who selected you?” Massie tapped the cap of her purple metallic pen against her teeth.
    “I did.” Kristen lifted her hand from the far left side of the table. “This is Ripple. She’s very athletic and totally available after school and—”
    “Like
six
years
old!” Massie snapped.
    “Point!” Alicia lifted her finger.
    “Nine!” Ripple corrected.
    “Do you even
go
here?” Dylan twirled her ultra-thick, half-straight, half-curly ponytail.
    “Not yet, but I will.” She beamed. “And when I do, I’m going to start my own Pretty Committee and cheerleading squad and surf team and—”
    “Um, Ripple, are you asleep?”
    Ripple peered at Kristen, hoping for clarification. Kristen lowered her eyes, offering none.
    “No.” She giggled nervously. “Why?”
    “Then why are you dreaming?” Massie glared at Kristen, reprimanding her for making such a ridiculous choice. With a name like that, she
had
to be related to Dune.
    “Don’t you want to hear my cheer?”
    Everyone shook their heads no.
    “What about my one word?”
    They shook their heads again.
    “It’s
youth
,” Ripple tried. “I will bring youth to the team.” She stuck out her flat chest with pride.
    Massie stood and put her hands on her sequin-covered hips. “Opposite of please stay or I will make sure everyone knows to love you when you go here.”
    “Huh?” Ripple tugged the zipper on her sweatshirt.
    “Leave!” Massie hissed.
    “But she’s wearing my brother’s necklace,” Ripple whined. “You
have
to pick me.”
    “I
knew
it!” Massie stabbed the table with her purple pen.
    “You better go,” Kristen mumbled.
    “I’m telling my brother!” She stomped out in last summer’s J. Crew flip-flops.
    Massie was about to scold Kristen for putting the team at risk to further her crush-life, but thought better of it when she