The game started out well. The sky cleared, we scored a touchdown during the first ten minutes, and Mike got tackled. As if this wasn't enough to put me in a good mood, I noticed Naomi up in the stands flirting with Bjorne Jansen, a foreign exchange student from Sweden. He didn't speak much English, but Naomi's body language was easy to read in any language.

So much for, she understands me better.

That's one of the perks of being a cheerleader. You get to watch the crowd. Sometimes it's as entertaining as the game. I wondered how long it would take for this incident to get back to Mike.

Molly and Polly came, although they were barely distinguishable under their down coats, long scarves, and hats. They sat alone and as the stands filled up I kept checking to see if someone would sit next to them. But no one did.

Rick and some of his friends showed up, and Adrian arrived with some other sophomore girls, both of which surprised me since neither Rick or Adrian are football fans.

At first I was afraid they'd gravitate toward each other, talk, and work things out. But when Adrian saw Rick, she sent me a withering glare, as though she thought he'd come to see me.

Which was only true if he was looking for material for his follow-up CD: More Reasons to Hate Cheerleaders. The only attention he threw my way was the few times when he rolled his eyes at me. We sang our song during halftime and it went perfectly. I loved the feeling of belting out the tune and knowing my voice did everything I wanted it to. High notes, low notes, I held onto them triumphantly. The crowd clapped and cheered, giving me an incredible rush. As I smiled up at the audience I thought, this is why Rick wants to sing for a living.

And I'm not sure which was a bigger compliment: that I noticed Mr. Metzerol in the stands, nodding in rhythm with the song—I knew he'd just come to see my performance—or that Rick stared down from the stands, absolutely stunned.

The only time he'd heard me sing before was the pep assembly when I did my impromptu duet with Mrs. Jones.

Yeah, I wanted to tell him. I'm a little better with music, practice, and the help of my new best friend, Mr. Metzerol.

As we walked off the field, Aubrie grabbed my arm. "We're totally going to kill the competition tomorrow."

"I hope so." I smiled and then remembered that Aubrie is the optimistic one. I turned to see Rachel's expression.

She nodded in agreement. "Rick is toast."

Samantha said, "All you have to do is sing for the judges like you just sang for this crowd. No pressure. No reason to be nervous."

But I wasn't. "I can do it," I said. "It feels like I've been waiting my whole life to do this and just didn't know it until now."

We didn't say any more about it after that because we'd reached the stands, but we all cheered extra loud for the next few minutes.

Rick didn't roll his eyes at me anymore. He only scowled. I could see him talking to his friends, spitting out words. He got up from his seat and wandered around the stands, talking to this clique and then to that. Networking, I supposed. Proving to me he could play the popularity game if he wanted.

Adrian left not long after that, probably to sulk. Which was stupid because Rick would have eventually gotten around to talking to her group.

We won the game 21 to 14, and the crowd started their own impromptu cheer of: "We'll take state again!" Then the team, fans, and cheerleaders assembled on the edge of the field to hear the coach give his usual commentary/pep talk and to sing the fight song. After that, the fans headed back to their cars and the team to the bus.

Samantha and I took seats up at the front. We made it there long before Rachel and Aubrie because they were walking with some of the guys. The dating goddess was always in high form after a game.

I noticed Coach Davison talking to Mrs. Jones a little ways away from the bus, and neither looked happy. Then Bryce and Derek, two linebackers, rattled up the steps. Bryce shook his head at us. "You guys are busted. Someone ratted you out."

"What?" I asked.

"Someone told the coach you've got beer in your duffel bags," Derek said.

Samantha wrinkled her nose like it was a ridiculous thing to say, which it was. "We don't have beer in our duffel bags."

I didn't chime in to agree because I noticed Mrs. Jones and Coach Davison stop Rachel and Aubrie as they walked by. Coach Davison took their duffel bags from them.

"Look," I nudged Samantha and pointed to the scene out the window. "Someone is about to feel foolish."

That's when Coach Davison pulled a beer can from Rachel's bag. Both Aubrie and Rachel's mouths dropped open. So did mine. And then my heart pounded in my chest. I turned and grabbed my own duffel bag from underneath my seat. As I did, I noticed Coach Davison open Aubrie's bag and pull a can from it too. He gripped the can while Aubrie shook her head vigorously. She put her hand against her chest, protesting.

Coach Davison gave her a grim look and headed toward the bus.

I fumbled with the zipper on my duffel bag. The cold made my fingers clumsy. After long moments the zipper finally came open. There along with my make-up kit and granola bars lay a can of beer. "How did this get in here?" I breathed out.

Samantha had her own duffel bag open on her lap, and she glanced down at a beer can with horror. "We've been set up," she whispered. "We've got to get rid of these."

"Where?" I asked. The bus didn't have any hiding places, and I couldn't have pried open one of the windows if I'd wanted to. I glanced at it anyway. The coach and Mrs. Jones were almost to the bus steps.

Samantha grabbed the can from my duffel bag. I had no idea where she planned on hiding it. Before I could ask her, she put my can next to her own, zipped her bag shut, then shoved it back underneath her seat.

I stared at her. "What are you doing? They'll find them in your bag."

She took my bag, zipped it, and slid it underneath my seat. "Yeah, but they won't find anything in yours."

It still didn't make sense. She leaned toward me. "This has to be Rick's fault. If we're not students in good standing, we can't sing for High School Idol. This way at least you'll still be able to audition."

I didn't have time to answer. Coach Davison was beside me, his gaze boring into mine. "Do you girls mind handing me your duffel bags?"

I glanced at Samantha and gulped. I felt my face flushing in frustration and anger. We pulled our bags out and handed them to Coach Davison. First he opened mine. He rummaged around the contents, then set it aside without comment. Then he opened Samantha's.

He immediately pulled out one of the cans of beer and held it up for Samantha to see. His jaw clenched tight. "Would you like to tell me what you're doing with this? You know the rules about alcohol at games. It's an automatic two-week suspension from school."

Samantha blinked up at him. I knew she was trying to look surprised but her words came out frightened. "I didn't put that there. Someone is trying to get us in trouble."

"Us?" he asked. "Who else has beer with them?"

She didn't answer. If we admitted that we saw what happened with Rachel and Aubrie, then they'd know we had time to rearrange the contents of our bags.

Coach Davison nodded at Samantha's silence. "I'd like you to step off the bus for a minute. We need to call your parents."

Samantha stood and pushed past me without another word.