The (Totally Not) Guaranteed Guide to Popularity, Prettiness & Perfection by Megan McCafferty

Author:Megan McCafferty
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction / Family / Siblings, Juvenile Fiction / Girls & Women, Juvenile Fiction / Social Issues / Adolescence
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2013-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Ack.

Not even Bridget could put a positive spin on my CHEER TEAM!!! tryout. Let’s put it this way: Losing my hand in Woodshop would have been less traumatizing than what just happened in the gym.

This is one of those stories where the teller is like, “You don’t want to hear this story,” and the listener is like, “Of course I want to hear the story,” and the teller is like, “Seriously, you don’t want to hear this story because it’s a terrible story where terrible things happen,” and the listener is like, “I REALLY WANT TO HEAR THIS STORY SO JUST TELL ME THE STORY,” and the teller is like, “Fine, I will,” and tells the story and when it’s all over the listener is superdepressed and like, “Wow, I wish you hadn’t told me that terrible story,” and the teller is like, “See? I told you so,” but doesn’t feel very good about it.

And yet, part of me thinks that by telling the terrible, traumatizing tale of CHEER TEAM!!! tryouts, I might be less haunted by its memory for years to come.

I certainly can’t imagine feeling any worse about it than I already do.

So. Here it goes.

The day started out okay. Bridget offered me more last-minute tips on the bus to school.

“I believe you’re a base! You have to believe it, too!”

It was nice to know that there was one person in the world who believed in me so completely. Even if such believing was of the Tooth Fairy/Easter Bunny variety. I was reminded of Mr. Pudel’s inspirational song.

“Beeeeee the base,” I sang to Bridget. “Beeeeee the base.”

I expected Bridget to laugh, or even to sing along with me. So I was taken by surprise when she ducked low and yanked me down with her.

“Shhhhhhh!” Bridget hissed.

“Ouch! I need that arm!”

I was annoyed and yet I still couldn’t help but think that a broken arm would be a valid excuse for not participating in the CHEER TEAM!!! Or Woodshop, for that matter.

“Shhhh! Burke Roy might hear you! And that would be, like, so embarrassing!”

This coming from a girl who recently showed up at my house in a fake mustache and shouted at me in a bad Eastern European accent? I almost said as much, but that’s when Bridget popped her head back up and gave Burke Roy a cheery little wave that—I don’t know—made me feel… well… pretty darn cheerless, which is not a good way to feel on the day you’re trying out for the CHEER TEAM!!!

So I got off the bus and spent the next eight periods trying not to puke.

No matter how hard Manda and Sara tried to project coolness, they were obviously as nervous as I was. Manda put so much effort into forcing a smile on her face that she looked like an insane jack-o’-lantern. And Sara only spoke when called on in class. I honestly didn’t think Sara was capable of keeping her mouth shut for eight seconds let alone eight classes.

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