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  “Take deep breaths.” Mel leans over and hugs me. “We still have five minutes until Todd shows up, and you are completely ready. Your hair looks darling, of course.”

  “Thanks.” I smile. I inhale and exhale and close my eyes for just a minute, facing Melissa, so none of the other girls think I’m nutty. I’m so jittery. I don’t like this feeling.

  Slow down, a voice says inside my head. Talk to Me. Melissa understands.

  God always pops in when I need Him. I feel awkward saying this to Melissa, but I think I’m supposed to.

  “How about we pray?” I ask.

  Melissa nods and holds out her hands. Even in her gloves, her fingers feel like icicles.

  “Dear Jesus, please help us to do our best out there tonight. Help our dancing and everything we do serve You. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Melissa echoes. “That was great, Linds. I don’t know why I never thought to pray before.”

  “I don’t know. It just came to me.” I feel better. I’m less shaky and more relaxed. “I have another idea.” I smile. “Let’s trade our gloves for good luck.”

  “You’re kooky.” Melissa rolls her eyes, but starts pulling the white gloves we wear to perform off her spindly fingers.

  “Well, Kristine says the cheerleaders trade pompoms for good luck. Why can’t we have our own thing?”

  “I like it.” She smiles.

  I tug on her gloves. The extra fabric to accommodate her elongated fingers flaps at the end of my hands. Meanwhile she tugs on my petite pair, and they don’t quite cover her hands. We start giggling as Todd opens the doors.

  Clap! Clap! Clap!

  “Inspection in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, Stacey, where are you, blow your whistle, three, two, one.”

  Our captain, Stacey, jumps to attention and tweets her silver whistle, sending a shrill signal through the room. We hurl ourselves into line, standing at attention with our arms flat against our sides, our shoulders rolled back, our chins in the air, and our feet in third position, right heels imbedded in left insteps.

  The room is silent except for our heavy breathing and Todd’s shoes slowly creeping past each of us, pausing to ensure we are immaculate and identical.

  “Jill, more hairspray, you have some flyaways.” He inches down the line. I sense it, even though I don’t dare look. We’re not even supposed to move our eyes.

  “Katie, your heels need a touch-up.”

  “Melissa, a little flair in the hair. Lindsey, help her.”

  Tweet tweet tweet tweet. “Dismissed,” Stacey bellows.

  “You have fifteen minutes to fix your flaws and hit the ladies’ room. We’ll line up at precisely 6:55 p.m.” Todd meanders to the brownies. “Yummmmmy!” he says, sampling one. “My compliments to the cook.”

  “Lindsey brought ’em,” J.T. mumbles, but I’m on to Melissa’s hair.

  “I hate getting singled out.” Even Melissa’s freckles are blushing.

  “It’s all right. Come on, I have an extra bow.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We sit with the pep band behind the basketball players for the first half of the game. I spot Noah on the other side of the gym in the student section. He and a bunch of his buddies are all wearing their hockey jerseys and goofing around. I struggle to make eye contact. He seems too into his friends to notice me. And then it’s halftime.

  We line up beside the bleachers and march into the middle of the gymnasium floor. Our boots echo like playground balls bouncing as we parade in front of the stands. We strike our opening pose and wait.

  Boom boom boom! Everything comes alive. The sound system blares our music, and we kick and lean and jump and snap. I am the music, and I am a smile, and my heart beats with the music, and there is no Noah or crowd or Kristine to worry about or outfits to pick out or homework to finish or Dad to miss. Then it’s over. The music stops, and we freeze, smiles plastered to our faces. Sweat dribbles from my forehead down my fiery face. My insides feel like an erupting volcano. My heartbeat is the lava trying to push out and overflow.

  Tweet tweet tweet tweet. We obey the whistle’s commands and march out of the gym. Once we’re past the eyes of the audience, we melt and hug and cheer. Melissa and I run to the girls’ room. I splash cold water on my face, trying to bring down my body temp.

  “That was awesome!” I exclaim.

  “We totally nailed that routine.” Melissa wipes her face with a paper towel. “I think it’s the first time we got the timing on the fan perfect.” She slurps water from the faucet. “Ready?”

  Raven and Emma sit in their usual spot. Unfortunately it’s rows and rows away from Noah.

  “Where’s Gracie?” Melissa asks, scooching next to Emma on the bleachers.

  “She went to get a snack with Drew.” Emma slides over to make room for us.

  “We’re winning!” Raven says, keeping her eyes trained on the court. “Beau just scored, Mel!”

  Melissa squeals and claps her hands.

  I try not to look where Noah’s sitting. If he wants to find me, he can. I pay extra attention to my friends and laugh extra hard at their stories. I don’t want him to think I’m needy, and I do love my friends. But there’s a pit in my stomach.

  Just like we planned, Melissa and I shower after third quarter. I hate showering in the communal locker room with my loofah on a metal peg outside the flimsy white curtain. It smells like rust and Clorox. I cringe as my bare feet trek across the slippery floor where hundreds of unknown feet have trod. It’s even worse, once I’m clean, and I’m forced to retrace my steps across the slimy tiles.

  Luckily, I have lots to distract me — mostly Noah, and how I want to look perfect for him tonight. He didn’t notice me at the game, but he will at the dance. After sliding my flatiron through my hair and then through Melissa’s, I shellac the last coat of shimmer on my lips.

  We leave the locker room and head to the darkened cafeteria. The room is heavy with sweat and perfume. All the tables and chairs have been stacked against the walls to create a makeshift dance floor. A DJ is set up near the lunch line, and neon lights flash from his sound system.

  “Did they say where they’d meet us?” Melissa shouts over the blaring tunes.

  I bop my head to the music. “No! I’ll text Em.” I whip out my fuchsia phone and type.

  WHERE R U

  Melissa and I meander around the perimeter jammed with jumping, swaying, and stomping students — a sea of jeans and hair and sweat. My legs itch to dance and jam, but we have to find our friends first. A minute later my phone vibrates in my pocket.

  BY BLU LOX

  “They’re by the blue lockers.” I grab Melissa’s hand and drag her though the crowd. “This way!”

  Gracie is all smiles, swaying near Drew, Emma’s practicing her head banging, red curls flying everywhere, and Raven is doing some slick move with her perfectly toned body.

  “I have got to learn how to do that!” I grab Raven’s elbow.

  “Hi, guys!” Melissa yells.

  I wave to everyone and focus on imitating Raven. Soon she has me swiveling my hips and moving my arms like hers.

  “This one’s my favorite!” Raven squeals when the song we’re dancing to morphs into another tune.

  I practice the move she taught me and blend it with some of my own. I edge over to Melissa, coaxing her to do it with me. A strong warm arm pulls me close. I know it’s him without looking.

  “Okay, so you girls really can dance!” Peter shouts, grabbing Emma’s hand and twirling her around. I cheer inside for Emma. Peter’s usually so quiet.

  Noah leans over and kisses my cheek. He smells like mint, but also of beer. So that’s why Peter’s so outgoing tonight. I didn’t know Noah drank. The print of his lips on my cheek tingles.

  “You look awesome!” Noah whispers in my ear as he pulls his lips away. “How’d I get such a hot girlfriend?”

  My insides feel like a bottle of nail polish being shaken to mix the color. Upside down: I’m dis
gusted that Noah drinks. I mean, lots of people at school do; I just didn’t know he did. It caught me off guard, and, well, I’m disappointed. Right side up: I’m excited. I love it when Noah calls me his girlfriend, and I’m giddy that he thinks I’m hot. I wouldn’t want him to think I was dumpy or plain or even just “cute.” I’m relieved he came to find me. I was a little worried about his lack of attention during the game. I feel angry and happy all at once. Luckily, I don’t have to say a word. No one’s talking — just jamming.

  We dance and dance. My heart pumps so fast I feel like there’s not enough oxygen in the crowded cafeteria for my lungs.

  “I need some air!” I scream at Noah. He nods and takes my hand. We’re not allowed to leave the cafeteria and then reenter the dance — school rules. So he pulls me to the back of the cafeteria near one of the stacks of tables. He leans me against the wall and kisses me full on the lips. It’s like I lit a sparkler. The colors whirl around me. I pull away.

  “Sorry, Charlie. No PDA. Dance team rules.” I pant, shaking my finger at him like a child walking through the house with muddy shoes.

  “What’s PDA?” Noah asks. “And who’s Charlie? Should I be jealous?”

  “Funny!” I slap him playfully on the arm. “Public Display of Affection.” I inhale some fresh air, relieved to be out of the mob for a moment. “Todd, our coach, assigns demerits to anyone caught in the act of PDA — enough that I’d have to skip a performance.”

  “Demerits?” Noah asks, leaning in to kiss my ear.

  “Yeah, points against us.” I playfully push him away. “You know, like if we forget part of our uniform or are late to practice. It’s a point system of punishment.” He’s still looking at me like I have fifteen purple eyes. “Like in hockey, what happens if you forget your stick or you’re late?”

  “If you forget your stick? You better not forget your stick! If you’re late? Either way, it’s a bunch of nasty drills, like sprints on the ice.” He shrugs. “I get it.” He takes his forearm and wipes sweat from his brow. His cheeks are rosy, and he is so handsome that I want him to kiss me like that again and again.

  “So, no kissing in school?”

  I nod.

  “So, where can we go so I can kiss you?” he asks in a voice so low I barely hear him.

  “I can’t leave the dance. My mom’s picking us up.” I smile, somewhat relieved. What would happen if we left together? Wow, is he cute!

  He shakes his head all nervous like. “Linds, you look so sexy, and you go dancing like that, and you expect me to keep my hands off you?” He ruffles his hair. “This isn’t easy.”

  “I’m sorry. I want to kiss you. That was so . . . niiiiccce.” I draw out the word and tilt my head sideways. I don’t want him to think I’m not interested. “But, I guess it’s kind of like what Ed was talking about. Even though it feels good, some things are just against the rules, whether they’re Todd’s or God’s.” I laugh at my unintentional rhyme. “And, it’s not worth it. I mean, can you imagine if you couldn’t play tomorrow because someone saw you kiss me? That’s what would it would be like for me.”

  Noah steps back. “I never thought of it that way, Linds.” He grabs my hand and stands next to me, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to put you in that position.” His free hand fidgets with his hair. “You’re just so amazing, and I think about you all the time.”

  “I think about you too,” I say.

  “Really?”

  “Noah!” I punch him in the arm. “Of course, like always. I was so bummed my friends weren’t sitting near you at the game, and I picked out this outfit because I hoped you would like it, and I can still feel where you kissed me.” The words tumble out of my mouth too fast.

  “About the game . . .” Noah looks down. “The guys all went out drinking before, and I had a beer — one beer. I feel so stupid. I didn’t want you to think I was into drinking or anything, so I avoided you during the game, hoping they’d sober up and I wouldn’t stink.” He turns and looks at me. “You were great out there, by the way. I am so crazy about you, Lindsey Kraus.”

  My smile explodes from my heart. “Me, you.” I squeeze his hand. Wow! I am so blown away by him. I want him to realize how much I like him too, but I’m agitated. I don’t want this to go in the wrong direction. Dance team and demerits are one reason to slow things down, but there’s more.

  “Noah, I love kissing you, and the other night at your house — wow! That threw me over the top. But, remember what Pastor Ed said about the fire. I mean, I can’t go there.”

  I watch Noah’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Sure, Linds. I get it.” He swallows again. “Wow, will it be hard, because you’re so gorgeous and, don’t get me wrong, so much more. I mean, I love being with you, because you’re you and the gorgeous part is just a bonus.” He squeezes my hand tightly.

  Good thing it’s dark in here, so he can’t see me blushing.

  “I mean I’ve done it before. It’s not like if we don’t, I’ll get hazed by the hockey team for still being a virgin. That’s not why I’m in this, Linds. You’re great. I don’t ever want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

  The flip-flops are back. He agrees. He respects me. He’s sorry. He loves being with me. He didn’t actually say he loved me, but it was close, wasn’t it? He’s not a virgin!

  “You’ve done it before!” I feel stretched like a face from the comics imprinted on a piece of Silly Putty, taut and distorted.

  Noah nods, not like this is a big confession, just a fact, like he told me what number’s on his jersey.

  “Who . . . ?” I start to ask, but can’t finish my sentence because my mouth will not close from this o shape.

  “Isabelle Parker.” He shrugs.

  “Isabelle Parker!” I scream. Isabelle is tall, dark, and curvy with thick black eyelashes. She is my polar opposite. I think of my chest so flat that I can buy clothes from the kids’ department. She could be in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition with her measurements, and she dresses so everyone at school knows it. I instantly hate her. Just like that. One minute ago, she was just another student — someone whose name I knew and nothing else. Now she’s the enemy. She and Noah shared something that he and I have never shared. What did he see in her? Well, other than the obvious.

  “Did you guys go out?” I ask. I couldn’t remember them being an item. Hadn’t he said he’d never had a girlfriend before? Or did Gracie say that? Or Raven?

  “It doesn’t matter.” Noah places his amazingly soft, warm hand on my cheek. “It doesn’t matter at all. I didn’t even know you, Linds. It’s you I’m crazy about. Not her.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I’m in my room, flipping through magazines while I commiserate with Gracie via texting, because Drew and Noah have away games again all weekend. It’s Saturday morning, the day before Valentine’s Day. Not much of a romantic weekend!

  It’s been a week since the dance. I’ve had time to roll this thing about Noah around and around in my head. I’ve prayed about it. Jesus says to forgive and not to judge, and I’m really trying to do that. And by the way, Noah’s right: He didn’t even know me when he slept with Isabelle. He didn’t cheat on me. Still, every time I pass Isabelle in the halls, I cringe. But, then, Noah is so cute and funny and never mentions other girls or even pays attention to them, unless you count hanging with my friends. He is a Christian, right? Why and when did he decide not to wait until marriage? But Noah makes me happy — so happy. And he isn’t pressuring me at all. So, for now, all is good, well mostly.

  “Knock, knock,” Mom says from the hallway, even though my door’s open.

  G2G

  I text to Gracie and click my phone shut.

  “What’s up?” I ask Mom.

  “Noah’s here.” Mom smiles a mischievous smile.

  “Aaagh!” I scream. I know why Mom’s smiling. I’m still wearing my pj’s, and I’m not wearing a drop of makeup.

  “How long can y
ou stall him?” I ask.

  “Well, I’m cute.” Mom winks. “But I don’t think he came to see me.”

  “Right.” I tug off my flannel pants and jump into a pair of jeans wadded up at the foot of my bed. Thankfully, my lilac hoodie is clean and sitting on my dresser in a stack of folded clothes. I pull it over my cami and rush to the bathroom before my head even pops through the neck hole. I brush my teeth and wash my face in record time and settle with mascara and lip gloss. The whole process takes about three minutes.

  “Hey.” I smile, trying not to sound out of breath as I walk down the stairs. Noah stands in the hallway all mussed, like he just crawled out of bed.

  “Hey.” He pecks me on the cheek. He still smells of sleep and covers. I want to cozy up next to him. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “Nothing. Didn’t Mom invite you in?”

  “I was hoping to convince you to come out.”

  “Where? I thought you were out of town?”

  “It’s a surprise.” His cheeks flush. “We got back late, and we’re leaving in three hours to go back. Coach decided at the last minute not to stay in Ackley overnight.”

  I bite my bottom lip. I wasn’t expecting to see him today and wondered if Valentine’s meant anything to him, and here he is at my house with a secret plan!

  “I already checked with your Mom, and she’s okay. You game?”

  “Sure, what should I wear?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Look at me, Linds. Does it look like it matters?”

  “Am I okay, really?”

  “Really. But grab a coat and gloves and maybe a hat.” He looks down at my feet. “You’ll need taller socks. No footies allowed.”

  “Right.” I laugh.

  “No, seriously,” he says.

  I don’t have a clue where he’s taking me, but I do know a hat will ruin anything decent I have going on with my hair. Agh, who cares?!

  “Just a sec.” I giggle as I trot into the kitchen.

  “Mom, Noah says you’re okay if we go somewhere?”