Jacob
home. A cool breeze tugged the red and orange leaves off the maple in the yard, sending them dancing across the bright blue
sky. Next to him was a six-foot-tall mechanical black cat made of mesh that turned its head back and forth and wagged its
tail in a slow, methodical rhythm. Every time it looked his way with its big, green eyes, it made an odd, high-pitched whirring
sound that he’d never noticed before, probably because he usually jogged right past it coming in or out of the house. He kind
of wanted to punch the thing in its face, if he was being honest.
For the first time in his life, Jacob regretting making a bet.
Well, okay, maybe not the first time. There was that fourth-grade incident when he’d sworn he could chug an entire bottle of chocolate milk without taking a breath, and then thrown up on the principal’s new shoes.
Open-toed shoes. He’d had to help out in the front office after school for two weeks.
But this came in a very close second.
Suspended from soccer? Right when the college scouts were going to start attending games? He did not have that on his junior
year bingo card. And now he had to try out for the cheer squad tomorrow, and he had no idea what he was doing. There was definitely
a part of him that wanted to just bail on the whole thing, but he’d been over it in his head a million times today. First
of all, he really did believe one should never back out on a bet. How was anyone going to ever trust him again if he didn’t
go through with it? But he also kept thinking about what Coach had said. That he had to prove he could be responsible and
a good leader if he wanted to get back on the team. That meant showing up for this, right? He’d committed when he’d signed
the form, and if he went back on that commitment, he’d just be proving Coach right about how unserious a person he was.
He needed to get back on the soccer team ASAP.
It wasn’t like he thought he was going to play D1 soccer in college—he wasn’t that good.
But he could maybe go D2 or D3. He’d already reached out to the coach at Tampa, who said there could be some scholarship money on the line if Jacob’s grades were good enough.
He wasn’t sure how it would work if he did make the cheer squad—maybe he could just cheer with them through their big competition and then go back to soccer?
But somehow, some way, he had to get back on the team before the end of the season.
And then there was Rory. He knew she thought he was a screwup. She probably figured he was going to skip out on her—well,
on the team. Either that or she assumed he’d show up with fake boobs and a ton of makeup and treat it like a joke. Which was
fair. That was definitely something he’d normally do. But this was different. It was Rory. And he wasn’t about to play down
to her expectations.
His mother’s SUV finally pulled into the driveway, and Jacob jumped to his feet. Lindsay and Chad tumbled out of the back
of the car as Willow stepped out of the front passenger seat. His sister looked at him curiously, as if she somehow knew he
was waiting for her and not everyone else who had just arrived at home.
“Sup, loser?” Chad greeted Jacob as he walked by.
“That’s bullying!” Lindsay admonished him, shoving him from behind.
“Oh, but pushing me is okay?” Chad replied as the two of them barreled their way into the house.
“Hey, Will,” Jacob said.
She paused on the bottom step to the porch and tilted her head, her long, blond ponytail falling to one side. “Hiiiii,” she
said suspiciously.
“What’re you doing home?” Jacob’s mom asked, bringing up the rear with two tote bags full of books. His mother worked part-time at the municipal library and was always bringing home stuff for all of them to read. “Was practice canceled?”
“Something like that.”
“Mom! We’re out of animal crackers!” Lindsay shouted from the house.
“There’s some in the pantry!” their mother shouted back.
“No, there’s not!”
Their mom rolled her eyes and went inside. One of the benefits of being the middle child in a household of seven kids was
that his parents never had much time to ask probing questions. He really hoped he’d have all of this figured out before he
had to bother either of them with it.
“What’s up?” Willow asked once their mom was gone.
“Uh . . . I need your help with something,” Jacob said. “I’m trying out for varsity cheer tomorrow.”
Willow burst out laughing—hand to her chest, doubled over laughing. It took her a good ten seconds to notice that Jacob had
not joined her. She caught her breath, covered her mouth—her nails were painted black and had little ghost stickers on them,
he noticed—and cleared her throat.
“No, you’re not.” Her hand dropped and her face got serious.
“Yes, I actually am.”
“Is this a prank? Or a joke? Or like . . . some kind of TikTok challenge?” Willow threw her backpack onto the porch swing and started pacing as she ranted. “You can’t just try out for the varsity team. They’re going to nationals this year!”
“Not without someone to replace Stuart DaCosta, they’re not.”
“And you think that’s going to be you?” Willow’s face was so incredulous that Jacob was almost insulted. “You know nothing
about cheerleading!”
Jacob threw his hands up. “Exactly! Which is why I need your help.”
Willow walked over to stand in front of him, crossing her arms over her cropped brown sweater and popping her hip. “You’re
not joking.”
“I’m not. Just show me the basics. Please. I’m begging you. I’ve only got three hours before I have to be at Nino’s for my
delivery shift.”
If she said no, he didn’t know what he was going to do. He did not want to show up to this tryout completely unprepared. Yes,
Jacob was a prankster, but he also had a very healthy competitive side. The idea of completely failing at something—at anything—gave
him hives. It wasn’t as if he thought he could learn to do a back handspring or whatever in one night, but he could figure
out a jump or two maybe. And learn a chant. Plus, it always seemed like the cheerleaders’ clapping was louder than regular
clapping. Was there some kind of technique to that? At least he was good at shouting. He had that going for him.
Willow took a long time to answer. It was as if she was doing a complex algebra equation in her head. Was it that hard to believe that he could be serious about something?
“You’re lucky I don’t have any homework tonight,” she said finally. “Because to be worthy of that team, you’re going to need
more than the basics.”