Meanicures by Catherine Clark Page A

me.
    She sighed, slumping back on the bleachers. “That’s the least of my problems right now.”
    She was obviously dying to talk about it, so I gave in. “Why, what’s going on?” I asked. “Why aren’t you over there?”
    “I got replaced, okay? I got demoted. To junior cheer. Which is not, like it sounds, for high school juniors. It’s sixth graders,” she explained.
    “I know,” I said. “We used to be on it together, remember?”
    “Right. Right! Of course,” she said. “Sure.”
    “Well, how did it happen?” I asked. “I mean, isn’tthere a chance you could change things?”
    “I got into an argument with Ms. Throgfeld. She said I had too much of an attitude and I needed to be in the back row for the next game, with the other sixth graders.” She shuddered. “The back row,” she repeated, slowing to emphasize each word.
    I remembered hating the fact that we were hidden, that we were just sort of backups to the older girls in front.
    “I just got used to the front, you know? Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she said I had to be at the bottom of the pyramid. I said, ‘I’m not going to be the bottom of the pyramid,’ and she said, ‘You’re too tall now to be the one on top, so remember this is a team and we make team decisions.’ ”
    “Maybe she meant decisions in the best interests of the team?” I suggested.
    But Cassidy continued to rant. She was biting her thumbnail while she talked, which made it a little hard to understand her. “Too tall. As if. I’m only five three. Where’s the logic in that? What am I going to do? Getting tossed in the air was my trademark thing.”
    I couldn’t remember the last time Cassidy had asked me for advice. “Um, you’ll teach the younger girls how to do things. Be their leader.”
    “Take me to your leader,” Cassidy said in a robotic voice, speaking as though she were an alien from outer space.
    “That’s not funny,” I said. “Actually, thinking back, you never were all that funny.”
    She looked at me, blinking back tears. “Harsh.”
    “Teasing, I was teasing,” I said.
    “It’s okay, I deserve it.” Her shoulders sank.
    “You know, if this doesn’t work out, you could join the Endangered Animals Club. Except that we actually don’t need anyone right now—”
    Just then, Ms. Throgfeld shouted, “Cassidy, over here, now! We need you!”
    Cassidy jumped down from the bleachers and did a couple of handsprings over to the coach, obviously trying to impress her. She misjudged the amount of room she had and went cartwheeling off the mat, crashing into the wall on the other side of the gym.
    Ms. Throgfeld shook her head as Cassidy stood up, looking slightly crumpled and blushing. “Never mind, go sit back down. I don’t know
how
you’ll be ready for the game Friday night.”
    “I can do it!” Cassidy said. “I can do anything you want. Really, just ask!”
    Ms. Throgfeld glanced over at me. “Madison, maybe you could talk to her about teamwork, about having the right attitude.”
    “Me?”
The person who Ms. Throgfeld had told not to bother with cheer if I wasn’t invested in it a hundred percent? I was the last person who should be talking about teamwork. And hadn’t Cassidy just offered todo whatever she wanted? Was Ms. Throgfeld even listening to her?
    “No, I don’t think so—sorry, I have to get going,” I said, slowly backing away. I didn’t want to get any more involved with this than I already was.
    When I got home, there was a message from Taylor, asking me to call her immediately. When I did, she sounded hysterical. “This is weird, okay? Really, really weird. You won’t believe what happened. I said something to Kayley while she was doing a flip on the balance beam, and she fell off!”
    “What did you say?” I asked.
    “Just her name!” Taylor said.
    “Did she get hurt?” I asked. I hated to admit it, but I almost liked the thought of Kayley having a mishap—as long as she wasn’t