CHAPTER TWO
This side of the football field was chaos. Dozens of girls littered the north end of the field, some doing calisthenics and others just standing around, waiting for the tryouts to begin. It was for the junior varsity cheerleading squad today. Folding tables and chairs were set up in front of the goalpost for the judges, and some uniform-clad varsity cheerleaders were leading the calisthenics. Soon they would begin teaching the routine for the actual tryout, and Meg Mitchell didn't want to miss a second of it.
She took a deep, cleansing breath of the clean, New Hampshire air. The day was cool and the sky was azure blue, with only a few puffy white clouds floating high above. It was an excellent day to be outside, and Meg noticed that a bunch of kids were sitting in the bleachers who had come to watch. She was glad that they were holding the tryouts outdoors. She had spent her entire first day at Glenwood High School sitting inside, and she wanted to enjoy the good weather and fresh air.
For the occasion, she was wearing a gray t-shirt and black sweat-shorts. As soon as the final bell had rung, she'd gone straight to the girls' locker room to change. She put up one of her feet on a bleacher and tied her shoe, then pulled back her shoulder-length dark brown hair and tied it into a ponytail. She was all set to go.
Girls were congregating towards the center of the field. Meg walked over to the group and joined them. Two uniformed cheerleaders were standing in front, facing the crowd. They were both tall, and had long hair. One was brunette; the other was blonde.
She's pretty, Meg thought, regarding the blonde. They were from the varsity squad, she figured. Both of them were carrying clipboards. She leaned in to hear what was about to be said.
"Okay everyone, if your name is not on this list, you will not be judged, so sign up now or it's too late, alright?"
The girls huddled around the cheerleaders, taking turns scribbling down their names. Meg made sure that her name was on the list. She wouldn't miss this for the world. Her parents wanted her to have an extra-cirricular activity, and Meg got the idea for cheerleading. She'd taken dance classes in the past, so she thought she might be good at cheering. When they were all finished writing down names, Meg stretched out her legs and arms and shook them. They were about to begin the routine.
"Let's begin by learning a few basic moves, then we'll teach you the routine you'll be performing in front of the judges later on."
The girls spread out, awaiting further instruction. A third cheerleader joined the pair, carrying a large boom box. She set the box down and flipped the switch. Loud music filled the air as they started. Meg had trouble in the beginning; she stumbled a few times trying to perform some of the fast footwork. The blonde cheerleader clapped her hands together. "You suck! You're all pathetic!" she cried.
"God, what a bitch," said a voice to her right.
She laughed. "Who?"
"Beth, the blonde one. Head cheerleader of the varsity squad this year. I think it's all gone to her head."
Meg turned and looked to where the voice came from. Standing next to her was a smiling, freckle-faced young woman with a full head of medium-length dirty-blonde hair and green, glowing eyes.
"She's very pretty," said Meg.
"Yeah, but she knows it, too," the girl said. The exercise was vigorous and Meg was panting. "Are you a freshman?" the girl asked.
"No. Sophomore."
"I'm a sophomore, too. Hi. My name's Amanda. What's your name?"
Meg smiled and answered, "Meg. Meg Mitchell."
"Are you new here or something? I haven't seen you around."
"Yeah, it's my first day here at Glenwood High School. I've been in private school for eight years... Hayworth Academy down South. Have you heard of it?"
"I think so. An Episcopalian school?"
"Yeah.
"Wow. So this is your first time in public school?"
"First time in a long time."
Amanda touched her on the arm. "Well I hope you like it here. Welcome to the school."
"Thanks."
"Do you think you'll make the squad?"
"I hope so."
"Good luck. I'll be rooting for you." They continued practicing, and before long, it was time to take a break. Amanda and Meg headed for the bleachers and poured themselves some water from the cooler and sat down.
"So why did your parents put you in private school?"
Meg became very quiet. "Several years ago my older brother, Cory, died in an accident at my home. After he passed, my parents became very protective of me, and one of the things they insisted that I do was go to an all-girls' boarding school closeby. Just this summer I finally convinced them to let me go back to public school."
"I'm so sorry..."
"It was a long time ago."
"Was he a lot older than you?"
"Two years." Amanda seemed to sense that Meg was uncomfortable saying anything more about that subject right now.
"So you didn't like private school?"
"It got old. You have to wear uniforms and it's very strict. I've been dying to come to public school for years."
"Well, you're finally here."
"I know. I'm so glad."
"Don't be too glad," Amanda said, with a hearty laugh. "It's not all it's cracked up to be."
"How long have you lived in Glenwood?"
"Four years."
"And you don't like the schools?"
"Well, it's not that I don't like it as much as I tolerate it, you know?" Kids can be mean, and teachers can be tough, just like anywhere."
"I understand," Meg said. Meg's eyes wandered over to the blonde cheerleader, Beth. Beth was chatting with two other girls, both dressed in regular street clothes. From time to time she would sweep her long hair back behind her shoulder and laugh amusedly. Meg was immediately jealous of her. She was model-thin and tall. Meg didn't have her height and she certainly didn't have her figure. She was a 5'2" petite and wanted to lose ten pounds.
Beth looked up into the bleachers and blew someone a kiss. Meg turned around slightly in her seat, then looked back. She was aiming for someone up high.
And then she saw him. She took in a sharp breath. His dark hair was long, and messy. His two eyes were dark as coal and intense, as though he were studying something. He was wearing baggy jeans and a leather jacket, both of which had tears in them. His elbows were resting on his knees, his chin in hands as he looked back at the girl who had just blown him a kiss, as he gave her a weak nod. Meg could not, as hard as she tried, avert her eyes from him. She was transfixed. Amanda gave her a nudge. "Whatcha lookin' at?" she asked, casually.
Meg turned slowly to her new friend. She was caught up with emotion; for several seconds she couldn't even speak. In that moment, something deep inside of her was beginning, something that somehow she knew would change her life forever, but she could not, would not, and didn't even care to ask why at that point. Amanda was still waiting for an answer--Meg was still groping for words. Where in the world did this emotion come from?
"Amanda?"
"Yes."
"I need you to do me a favor... I need you to tell me something," she said. She took in a couple of breaths.
"Sure."
Meg looked at the boy sitting alone on the bleachers. Her heart was suddenly racing; her chest was heaving. "I need you to look up to where I'm looking and tell me who you see." Amanda obeyed.
"That's Beth's boyfriend," she said, without much pause.
"Do you know his name?"
"Mark. Mark Powell. Why, do you like him?"
Mark? That boy is Mark? She could scarcely believe what she had just heard. Meg was shocked. Her heart could have stopped in her chest. She took one deep breath after the other, trying to calm herself down. But that's Cory's Mark!
"Are you sure that's Mark Powell?"
"Quite positive," Amanda answered, and took another sip from her drink. "I see him all the time at school. But stay away from him, if you ask me," Amanda said. "I'll let you in on a little well-known secret... Mark's gotten into a lot of trouble in the past. He may be cute, but he's bad news all the way down the line."
She was speechless. For several seconds her head swam. Mark? Is that you? she thought. He was taller. His hair was long. No glasses now. But the more she looked at him, the more she began to recognize the scrawny, asthmatic nine-year old little boy in him who almost spent his whole life at the Mitchells' house eight years ago, before the incident with her father's gun had ever occured.
She was still breathing heavily. Amanda had to practically tear her away when it came time for tryouts to reconvene.
She performed her routine flawlessly before the judges, despite her preoccupation. Amanda performed well, too. After the competition, they were told that those girls who made the squad would be posted up the following morning, and everyone was dismissed. Meg tried to see where Mark was going afterwards, but she lost him in the crowd. He was nowhere to be seen.
That night at home, the Mitchells enjoyed a peaceful dinner together. Ann Mitchell, Meg's mother, questioned her daughter about the day. "How was school?"
Meg responded quietly. "It was fine." She looked down at her salad and took a bite, not elaborating any further.
Her parents glanced at each other. Lane Mitchell, the father, spoke next. "You've been wanting to go to public school for a long time now. Did you like it there, or were you disappointed?"
"Um," Meg shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I liked it."
He smiled. "So tell us more. What were your teachers like? Did you run into any problems?"
She glanced up from her plate. "My teachers are all okay. They're nice people."
"Well, good," he said.
Ann asked, "Did your cheerleading tryouts go well?"
"Yup."
"When will you find out if you've made the squad?"
"Tomorrow morning," she said. She wasn't much in the mood to talk.
They finished their dinners, and afterwards Meg's mom and dad went into the den to watch some t.v.. Meg cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, then went up to her room to be alone. Once on her bed, she grabbed her favorite doll from her pile of stuffed animals and began to play with it. Its name was "Molly." She brushed the doll's hair back gently with her fingers and then held the doll in her arms, cradling it.
She'd had a tiring day and all she wanted to do was sleep, but Mark was still heavy in her thoughts. I wonder if he saw me, she thought, as she lay back against her pillow. She sighed a heavy sigh. From the time of hearing his name this afternoon up till now, all she had thought about was Mark.
It was an accident. She'd been in the second grade when it had happened, and she remembered it like it was last week.
She'd arrived home, still dressed in leotard and tights, and went into the kitchen while her mom went upstairs to find her son.
It was then that the screaming began. Police cars and an ambulance arrived, and little Megan Mitchell was whisked away to a motel room with her dad so that she wouldn't see anything or hear anything.
The next day, grown-ups explained to Meg that her big brother Cory wasn't going to be around anymore. Cory was gone forever.
One thing she did remember hearing that day was: "You killed my son!" Over and over again, "You killed my son!"
Meg wiped a tear away. Over time, she learned what had really happened in that study that September day... it was simply, and plainly, an accident. But not once after the incident did she ever see Mark again.
It was a long time ago. And she was a lot older now: she was fifteen years old. She was not a child anymore. But seeing Mark again for the first time in eight years sparked new feelings of grief for Cory that she'd not had in a long time. But she could not attempt to deny that seeing him also sparked some excitement deep within her. I wonder if he would remember me, she thought, and then closed her eyes and went to sleep.
The next morning at school, Meg checked the gym to see if she'd made the j.v. cheerleading squad. Sure enough, her name was on the list. Curious to see if Amanda had made the squad as well, she checked the list again for her name and sure enough, it was there. Happy and satisfied about what she'd just learned, she floated through the beginning part of the school day.
At lunch, she wandered into the cafeteria and went through the line. After she paid for her food, she carried her tray into the dining room and looked around for a seat. Yesterday she'd eaten alone. Today she was fully prepared to do the same, but just before she sat down at an empty table, a familiar voice sang out, "Meg! Over here!" It was Amanda. Meg smiled a relieved smile and happily joined her.
Amanda's table was three-quarters full. "Meg, this is Kate and Laura... Kate and Laura, this is Meg." They all shook hands. "We met yesterday at the cheerleading tryouts. We're going to be on the squad together."
"Oh really? Congratulations."
"Thanks. I'm really looking forward to it."
Meg chatted with the group for a while before noticing a booth on the far end of the cafeteria. Mark and three other boys were sitting in it. "Guys?" she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going over to talk to someone." She got up from the table, abandoning her half-eaten lunch. She made a resolution that she was going to talk to Mark.
She was all nerves. The boys were joking and laughing as Meg wove her way through tables and approached the booth. They did not look up when she stood before them. She was shaking, she knew. She mustered together her courage and cleared her throat.
"Um, Mark?"
He slowly looked up from his hamburger and stared at her blankly for a few seconds without saying a word.
"Hi, um, my name is Meg Mitchell... and you may not remember me, but um..." Still not a word.
"But, um... a long time ago you were friends with my brother Cory in elementary school, and we used to play together sometimes and I thought I thought..." She glanced at the boys. Silence. They were all staring at her. Her heart was fluttering rapidly. She wanted to turn and go at that moment but she told herself, Just say more.
"I thought I would come over and say hello because we used to be kind of friends, you know?" Her voice was a bit shaky. She bit her lip out of frustration. One of the boys started laughing.
"Hey Mark, you've got a fan," he teased.
Meg turned red in the face. Her palms were beginning to sweat. "Yeah, Mark, a girl came over to talk to you. I think she has a crush on you, man."
Mark said nothing.
"Uh-oh, where's Beth? Now Mark, you're not going to cheat on her, are you?" Mark shoved the boy named Dan, who was seated across from him.
"Where did she come from?" one of the other two boys asked. Mark did not respond.
She waited for someone to say something.
"Meg, is it?" Mark said, finally.
"Yes."
"Yeah, I remember you."
"Good, because--"
"I'm not interested."
"What?"
"I said, I'm not interested." Meg was confused. She tried to figure out what he meant by what he'd said.
"But I didn't offer anything..." she said, bewildered.
He gave a quick answer. "Whatever it is that you came here for, I don't want it."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is... don't bother. That's all there is to it. Just turn around and go back where you came from, and leave me the Hell alone." The boys were giggling. Meg felt as though she'd been slapped in the face. She stood there for a long moment reeling from the harsh words. Stunned, she left the table without saying another word. As she silently walked back to her own table on the other side of the dining room, she could feel the tears beginning to well up behind her eyes. When she sat down, she could no longer hold them. She began to cry.
"Meg, are you okay?" The girls' concern was eminent in their voices.
Meg sobbed for a good while. "No... but I'll be alright," was her answer.