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Authors: Diana López

BOOK: Choke
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“Okay, now,” Mrs. Campos said. “Courtney? Why don't you go next?”

Courtney took a minute. She probably didn't want to do her speech, not after everyone had dissed her best friend. But she finally went to the front of class and prepped for her presentation. She patted Alicia's shoulder, and like a robot that had just turned on, Alicia removed her fancy headband and sat on a stool, while Courtney grabbed a big brush, a blow-dryer, a straightening iron, and a water bottle.

“In a real beauty salon,” she began as she draped the beach towel over Alicia's shoulders, “the stylist washes the client's hair, but since we don't have a sink in here, I'll be wetting Alicia's hair with this water bottle.”

Her voice trembled. Was she nervous? That would be a first.

She kept talking while she dampened Alicia's hair and clipped the upper layers so they wouldn't be in the way. And
then, she turned on the hair-dryer. It was as loud as a helicopter! We saw her mouth move, but we couldn't hear a thing.

“Courtney,” Mrs. Campos said. “Courtney!”

Courtney talked on. She didn't give eye contact since she was focused on the hair. Alicia squirmed in her seat, but she didn't interrupt her friend.


Courtney!
” Mrs. Campos shouted as she pulled the plug from the socket.

Courtney froze. “What's wrong?”

Mrs. Campos spoke gently now. “We couldn't hear you, hon. Would you like to try again?”

Courtney nodded, then restarted her speech. This time, she gave the class eye contact, first glancing at Nina, who was doodling on her book cover instead of paying attention. Maybe it was rude to act so bored, but why should Nina act interested? Why should any of us? Being a celebrity hairstylist was such a dumb idea.

“I … I …” Courtney was stumped. I should have felt sorry for her, but I didn't. I loved her confusion. For once,
she
looked like the fool. Eventually, she recovered and rushed through the rest of her speech. “That's it,” she said after she made her last point.

“That's it?” Alicia whined. “Aren't you going to finish my hair?”

The class suddenly laughed because Alicia looked so funny. Half of her head was full-bodied and dry; the other half, flat and damp. Plus, she still had clumps of hair messily arranged in those non-glamorous hair clips stylists use.

Just then, the bell rang.

“We'll hear the rest of your speeches tomorrow,” Mrs. Campos announced. “Class dismissed.”

The students quickly left, but Elena and I took our time so we could eavesdrop on Courtney and Alicia.

“I look horrible,” Alicia cried.

“At least your speech made sense,” Courtney said.

“But I can't go to the cafeteria looking like this.”

“Now, now girls,” Mrs. Campos told them. “I don't have a class right now, so you can stay and get fixed up before going to lunch.”

Elena and I giggled. “I can't believe they're crying about a bad hairdo,” I whispered, “when we had to walk around with tomato sauce on our shirts.”

Elena nodded as she handed me her gym bag. Once again, she had too much stuff. We finally moved toward the door, where Nina was waiting for us. We were about to leave when Courtney and Alicia called out.

“You did this,” Alicia accused, pointing at Nina. “You ruined our speeches.”

Nina shrugged. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Courtney said. “You told the class not to clap.”

“I didn't tell them anything,” Nina said, and it was the truth. What did Courtney and Alicia think? That we needed Nina's permission?

“You
had
to,” Alicia said. “You passed a note or something.”

Nina shrugged again. Then she held up the in-crowd's famous
W
sign and said, “Whatever.”

O
n our way to the cafeteria, Elena said, “I feel sorry for Courtney and Alicia. I should have clapped.”

“I can't believe you feel sorry for them,” I said. “When do they ever care about
your
feelings?”

“Besides,” Nina added, “it's not your fault Courtney brought a super-loud hair-dryer to class and then forgot to finish Alicia's hair.”

I laughed again, remembering it. “Her hair looked like seaweed, didn't it?”

“Yeah,” Nina said. “Serves her right, though.”

“I can't believe you're being so meanormous,” Elena said. “Alicia got really embarrassed. Courtney, too.”

“Weren't
you
embarrassed?” Nina asked. “When you slipped on that ice?”

“Yeah, but …”

“That's how karma works. If you put out bad energy, that bad energy will come back and kick your butt.”

“I guess,” Elena said, though she didn't sound convinced.

“You're just too nice,” I teased.

And Elena
was
too nice. That part was true. Most of the time, being nice was a good thing, but being
too
nice was the same as being foolish, right? After all, if karma didn't forgive and forget, then why should we?

We went through the cafeteria line, grabbed our trays, and found a table. As we ate, Nina gave us an overview of her upcoming speech. She planned to discuss drumming.

“What made you pick the drums?” Elena wanted to know.

“I knew all that banging would get on my mom's nerves,” Nina joked. “Plus, pounding on the drums helps me let go of my frustrations.”

“What are you frustrated about?” I asked.

“Lots of things. My parents are really busy, and it's like I'm invisible sometimes — except when they want to discipline me or something. And I really miss my breath sisters. I can't even talk to them on the phone anymore.”

Elena and I glanced at each other. We still didn't know what
breath sisters
meant.

Just then, a group of in-crowd girls came by. They nodded and smiled at us. Usually, Elena and I are outright ignored, but without Alicia and Courtney around, some of the girls were actually nice, so I decided to smile and nod back. And the most wonderful thing happened! The girls acknowledged me, and Liz even said, “Stay cool.”

“That was weird,” Elena said. “Liz
never
pays attention to us.” But it wasn't weird at all. If we were friends with Nina, and Nina was friends with Liz, didn't that mean Liz was friends with us? I couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but it was starting to feel that way.

 

After school, I stuffed my backpack with homework, and then made a pit stop at Elena's locker. Nina showed up, too. Once Elena had grabbed all her bags, we headed toward the exit.

“Do you walk home or take the bus?” Elena asked Nina.

“I take the bus.”

“Really?” Elena said. “What's your bus number? I've never seen you in any of the lines.”

“I ride the city bus,” Nina explained. “I don't live in this district.”

“You don't?” I said. “Then why do you come to school here?”

“Long story. Let's just say the teachers and parents wanted to take me away from my breath sisters.”

This was the second time she mentioned breath sisters today. I was desperate to know what it meant.

“Is that some kind of sorority?” I asked. “I've heard of sororities in college, but not in middle school.”

“I guess you could call it a sorority,” Nina said. “Have you heard of blood brothers?”

Elena and I nodded.

“Breath sisters are just like blood brothers.”

I still didn't get it. I knew blood brothers cut their palms and shook hands, but I couldn't imagine how to become a breath sister.

“My bus gets here in five minutes,” Elena said.

On the days Elena didn't come to my house after school, I walked her to the bus line and then went home by myself, but the city stop was on the opposite corner of campus.

“I think I'll wait with Nina today,” I decided. Before Elena could protest, I added, “So she can finish telling me about her speech.”

“I still need to give my speech, too,” Elena said.

“I know. I'll call later and we can talk about it then.”

Elena glanced at me, then Nina, and then me again. I guess she thought I'd change my mind.

“I promise to call,” I assured her.

“Well, okay,” she said.

She left, but as she walked away, she turned around three or four times. For some reason, she made me think of my first day at school. Mom had taken me to the cafeteria for an assembly. After the principal introduced the teachers and welcomed the new students, I had to leave with my class. I kept looking back to make sure Mom was still there. I knew she'd pick me up in the afternoon, but part of me had worried she wouldn't.

Since the city bus stop was technically off campus, a few teachers would meet there to smoke. Elena and I called them Phlegm Masters. They'd go in the worst weather and spend their lunch breaks there, too. They smelled bad and had yellow teeth, but most of them were nice — except when they hogged up the shade and left the real bus riders in the sun. Nina and I nodded at them but stood a few feet away. Only out-crowd kids hung out with teachers.

“I can't wait till I start driving,” Nina said. “Waiting for the bus is such a drag.”

“Why don't your parents pick you up?”

“Are you kidding?” she said. “My dad is always out of town on business trips, and my mom has a five o'clock Pilates class. She'd rather skip ten years of her life than one hour of Pilates.”

Some band kids walked by and said a few words to Nina. She was nice to all of them, even the double nerdy ones.

When Nina and I were alone again, I said, “So why did you and Liz sneak off today?”

“What do you mean?”

“During speech class. I saw her waiting in the hall.”

“Oh, that.” Nina fiddled with the edge of her scarf. “She wasn't waiting for me. We just happened to run into each other. A coincidence.”

I was sure I heard Liz complain about Nina being late, but maybe I was wrong.

“You were gone for quite a while,” I said.

“Was I?”

I nodded.

“You know how it is,” Nina said. “Liz and I started talking and lost track of time.”

I could completely relate. How many times had Elena and I lost track of time?

“Don't worry,” I said. “Mrs. Campos was too busy with the speeches to notice.”

Just then, Ronnie walked out of the school. He waved at us. Nina waved back and nudged me to do the same, but when I thought of his speech and his pumped biceps, my fingers and toes went numb.

“I thought you liked him,” Nina said.

“I do, but … but …”

“So talk to him. It's not that hard. If you get stuck, ask a few questions. Trust me. Guys love to talk about themselves. And all you have to do is listen, or pretend to listen. He'll think you're the nicest person in the world. Even if you haven't said a word.”

“Really?” I said. This seemed truly amazing — and simple.

“Hey, Ronnie,” Nina called, waving him over.

He hurried to the bus stop.

“Hi, Nina,” he said. “Hi, Trouper.”

“Um, hi,” I mumbled.

“So how'd you learn so much about training your biceps?” Nina asked.

“My uncle taught me. He's this massive bodybuilder. He's an eating, weightlifting machine. He works in a warehouse, so he can get
paid
to lift. All the skinny dudes use dollies or forklifts to pick up stuff. But not my uncle. He
uses his
bare arms
. I'm not lying. His arms are as thick as most people's legs.”

“Sounds like he's really strong,” Nina said.

“Not really strong, but really,
really
strong. If my uncle was born a dog, he'd have the jaws of a pit bull and the muscles of a … of a … of another dog that was really, really strong. He even qualified for the regional bodybuilding contest in Austin next month.”

He stopped. I waited for Nina to jump-start the conversation, but this time, she didn't say a word. When a few awkward moments passed, she poked my back. I got the hint and finally said something.

“I've never been to a bodybuilding contest. What's it like?”

“It's so cool! The dudes have to come up with a routine. They get to pick their own music and do their own choreography.”

“Like ice-skaters?”

“No. I mean, they're not on ice or anything. They do this on a stage. And they don't wear those girly costumes. They wear Speedos.”

“But they have judges, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. They get scored. But that's only
part of it. After everyone does his routine, there's a pose-off where all the guys line up and do compulsory poses.”

“What's a compulsory pose?” My questions were really flowing. Nina was right. I had Ronnie's full attention.

“There's a whole bunch of them. Like front double biceps.” Ronnie lifted his arms and did the classic Popeye pose. “And the side chest pose.” He turned slightly away, clasped his wrists in front of him, and squeezed his chest. “And the side triceps pose.” He straightened his arm and flexed the muscles above the elbow.

Just then a truck drove up.

“Gotta go,” Ronnie said. “That's my uncle. He's here to pick up the equipment I borrowed.”

Thank goodness
, I thought. I was getting all flushed and hot. One more compulsory pose and I'd pass out.

“See ya,” Nina said to Ronnie.

“Sure thing,” he answered. Then to me, he said, “Catch you tomorrow, Trouper.” He punched me on the shoulder like I was his best gym pal. Then he bolted to his uncle, whose Ford pickup had tires as high as my shoulders.

“Those are the biggest muscles I've ever seen,” Nina said as the uncle got out of the truck.

“If boulders could walk,” I added, “they'd look something like him.”

The Phlegm Masters finished their smokes and went back to the school, so Nina and I took over the bench.

“You're a real natural,” Nina said. “See how Ronnie smiled once you got him talking? I can tell he likes you.”

“Do you really think so? I've never seen ‘Trouper' on a valentine.”

“Trouper today. Sweetheart tomorrow. The best couples start off as friends.”

That was a good point. Lovebirds
should
be friends first. I was starting to realize that Nina was a genius about people.

“There's my bus.” She pointed down the street.

“Hey, Nina,” I said, as she grabbed her backpack, “want to stay at my house Friday night? Elena will be there, too.”

“Sorry, I can't. I'm permanently banned from sleepovers.”

“Why?”

“My parents don't get the whole breath sister thing. And they're mad I was kicked out of my last school.” The bus pulled up, the doors opened, and a few people stepped out. “But I can still hang out on Saturday. Let's make plans, okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

She jumped on the bus, and the doors closed behind her. The last students had cleared the grounds. One custodian
lowered the flag while another collected trash. I was all alone, so I had a quiet walk home.

When I finally got to my room, I pulled out my
TOP FIVE
notebook.

“What to Look for in a Friend,” I wrote. “Five, someone cool, even with the in-crowd. Four, someone who listens. Three, someone who claps for you even after you give a crappy speech. Two, someone who has useful advice about boys.”

I still didn't know what it meant, but for the number one thing to look for in a friend, I wrote, “Someone who'll be your breath sister.”

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