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“Well, maybe we could just do the N in Night and the H in Hawks, in glitter,” Avery suggested.

  “Let’s do the letters first and see how they look,” Hannah suggested.

  Avery nodded. “Great,” she said. “And I thought we could do individual locker signs for each of the players. Elle, you know them better than anybody here. Can you take charge of that?”

  “Sure,” I replied.

  “When are we going to put these up?” Hannah asked.

  “I was thinking that everybody could get to school early on Friday,” Avery replied. “Or at least a few of us.”

  “I can probably do it,” I offered. “It won’t take long.”

  “Great. Then I’ll definitely help,” Avery said.

  Tiff and Patrice helped me with the individual posters. We made one each for Kenya, Summer, Jenna, Maggie, Taylor, and Lauren.

  “What should we do? Draw volleyballs?” Patrice asked.

  Tiff tapped a marker on the table. “Maybe we should add some volleyball sayings.” She looked at me. “Are there volleyball sayings?”

  I had been on the team long enough to know the answer to that.

  “We could do ‘Serve it up!’ ” I suggested.

  “We should put that one on Kenya’s because she’s a great server. Then there’s ‘Block this!’ Or ‘Can you dig it?’ Dig it, because a dig is when you dive to keep a spiked ball from hitting the floor.”

  “Perfect,” Tiff said. “We need some stickers, too. Avery, what kind of stickers do you have?”

  “Come see,” Avery said, and Tiff and I rummaged through the sticker pile. She had three sheets of glittery volleyballs, as well as hearts, stars, and stickers with sayings on them like, “Go Team!”

  “Where did you get all this stuff?” I asked.

  “Mom took me to the craft store,” she said. “We go there, like, once a week anyway. I love this kind of stuff.”

  “I know,” I said. “You should totally be booster club president.”

  Avery’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I mean, I know this was kind of your idea, and you led the meeting and everything …”

  “Do you remember who you’re talking to?” I asked. “I am the one who has too much to do and no organizational skills. I think you would be an awesome president.”

  “Avery for president!” Natalie yelled.

  “Well, I think we need to talk to the others … ,” Avery said.

  “I’ll bring it up at our next meeting,” I said. “But once the volleyball team sees everything we’ve put together, I’m sure you’ll get their vote.”

  Avery beamed, and that made me happy. I could tell that she was doing something she really loved.

  We finished the banner and the posters in about an hour, and I stayed behind to help Avery clean up. As we worked, I put aside some paper, stickers, and a glitter pen.

  “Do you mind if I take this home?” I asked.

  “Sure. What for?” Avery asked. “Oh wait. Are you making a Valentine for someone?”

  I felt myself blush. It freaks me out how Avery can be almost psychic sometimes. “Sort of. Not really. Kind of,” I replied.

  Avery laughed. “Whatever. Have fun with it!”

  * * *

  The rest of the week flew by. I worked on my special project. We practiced for Sunday’s game. And on Friday, the day of the volleyball game, Avery and I got to school early.

  “Kenya’s locker is over here,” I said as we got ready to put the first poster up.

  We worked fast, and we finished before other kids started arriving at school. I darted off to put something in a different locker. Then Avery and I hung out in the hallway and waited.

  Summer arrived first. We watched her walk to her locker, and then she let out a squeal.

  “I love it!”

  Avery and I high-fived. A few girls headed to Summer’s locker to check out her poster. Then we heard Jenna yell.

  “I got one too!”

  Soon the whole volleyball team was dashing around the hallway, checking out the posters. Then Kenya spotted me and Avery and walked up to us.

  “Nice job,” she said. “Thanks!”

  “Wait till you see our banner,” Avery teased.

  We all headed to homeroom together, and we passed Jordan and Ethan, two boys on the basketball team with Blake.

  “Yo, who did the posters for you?” Jordan asked Kenya, and we all stopped.

  “The girls’ basketball team,” she told him. “We formed a booster club, so we can support each other’s teams.”

  “So do the boys get posters?” Ethan asked.

  “No, that’s kind of the whole point,” Avery chimed in. “You guys already get new uniforms, and cheerleaders, and better news coverage.”

  “Yeah, but we don’t get posters,” Jordan said.

  Kenya gave him a look. “Are you serious? You’re jealous of a poster?”

  “I didn’t say we were jealous,” Jordan argued. “Just that … whatever, forget it.”

  “We will,” Kenya promised them, and she walked away. Avery and I followed her.

  “Can you believe those boys?” she asked. “Jealous of a poster, with all the stuff they get.”

  “Well, they are awesome posters,” I joked, and Kenya just shook her head.

  I guess it was flattering that the boys wanted posters too. Everybody noticed them, and it really helped get people excited about the game. After basketball practice that afternoon, we all hurried home to eat and get changed before the girls’ volleyball game. Dad dropped me off back at the school at seven o’clock.

  Avery and Patrice were already there, holding up the glittery Nighthawks banner. The pep band was playing. A bunch of girls from the track team climbed up onto the bleachers to sit with them.

  “Kenya told us about the booster club,” said one of the girls. “We want to help.”

  “Awesome,” Avery said. “Right now, all you have to do is cheer.”

  I slid onto the bleachers next to Avery. From our perch, we could see people streaming into the gym. It was definitely a bigger crowd than we’d ever had at a girls’ volleyball game before.

  “It’s working!” I told Avery, and she replied with a giant grin.

  Then I spotted Amanda entering the gym. I was a little nervous about seeing her, because she hadn’t said much to me during practice. And I had been waiting all day to see what she would think of my peace offering. Since she hadn’t said a word, I’d been thinking that she didn’t like it.

  I expected her to sit with the band, but instead she climbed up and sat next to me.

  “Hi,” she said shyly.

  “Hi,” I replied.

  She reached into the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a folded piece of construction paper. The same paper I had put in her locker that morning. She unfolded it.

  I’d used the art supplies I’d borrowed from Avery to make a card for Amanda. A card that I just happened to give her on Valentine’s Day. With stickers of hearts and stars making funny faces, and a glittery border. I had written the letters of her name down the paper.

  Always smiling

  Makes me laugh

  Asks me how I’m doing

  Never gives up

  Dogs love her and she loves dogs

  Amanda!

  “Your name has a lot of As,” I told her. “It was hard to think of a third one for the last line.”

  “I like it,” she said. “That was sweet, Elle.”

  I shrugged. “I know it’s goofy. I just … I kind of felt like we’re not friends anymore, and that made me sad.”

  Amanda nodded. “I know. It’s complicated, I guess. It’s just …”

  Before she could finish, the volleyball teams ran out onto the court. Avery and Patrice stood up.

  “Nighthawks! Nighthawks!”

  All the Nighthawks fans in the stands joined the chant.

  “Nighthawks! Nighthawks!”

  Then the game began, and the action just didn’t stop. Kenya kept m
aking killer serves that landed just inbounds. Summer spiked the ball so fast the players on the opposing team looked shocked. Jenna kept setting up beautiful passes for her teammates to get over the net.

  “This is more action-packed than I thought it would be,” Avery whispered to me during the game.

  “Yeah, it’s much more intense than gym volleyball. There’s a lot more skill to it than I realized,” I said, and she threw me a look of alarm. “But I have more fun playing basketball.”

  “Good to know,” she replied.

  We all cheered the Nighthawks girls’ team to a win. When the game finished, I wanted to take Amanda aside and finish our conversation. But she darted away before I could.

  “Hey!” I called after her. “See you at the dance tomorrow?”

  “Nope!” she called back. “I hate dances!”

  Kenya ran up to me, grabbed my arm, and swung me around.

  “We are doing it, Elle!” she cheered. “The girls are killing it!”

  “Yes we are!” I cried. “Great game!”

  Our plan to boost the girls’ teams was a success. That was good. But for the rest of the night, all I could think about was: What did Amanda want to tell me?

  9 The Buddy Dance

  So everybody agrees that Avery can be the booster club president?” I asked.

  The girls gathered at the River Queen Diner all replied “yes” in one way or another.

  “Great. Thanks!” Avery said. “And Coach Ramirez and Coach Patel both said they would be our advisors. So we can meet in the school if we need to.”

  “But then we wouldn’t get cheese fries!” Jenna shouted.

  “The diner is going to have to build an addition if we keep meeting here,” Tiff said. Four of the girls from the track team had joined us, and now we took up six tables.

  My phone alarm went off, and I stood up. “Gotta run,” I said. “I have to go help the Buddy Club set up for the dance.”

  “See you later, Elle!” Avery called out.

  I waved good-bye to everybody and headed outside, where Dad was waiting to drive me to the school. When I got there, Ms. Ebear and Principal Lubin were supervising the members of the Buddy Club setting up for the party.

  “Oh good, Elle’s here!” Cole said.

  “Uh, hi!” I said. Why was Cole so excited to see me?

  “We need somebody tall to put up the streamers,” he said. “Even with the ladder, I’m too short.”

  What could I say? I wasn’t insulted. Sometimes it comes in handy to be tall. I took a roll of yellow streamers from him.

  “How do you want me to do this?” I asked.

  Cole and Emily gave me instructions, and I moved around the gym with the ladder, draping the streamers over and under the metal rafters. It took kind of a long time, but the end result was pretty spectacular. It looked like a bunch of rainbows were hanging over the gym.

  “This looks great, everyone!” Ms. Ebear said. “It’s time for dinner break. I’ll see you back here at seven for the dance.”

  “Ms. Ebear, shouldn’t we teach Elle the—you know, the surprise?” Satoko asked.

  “Oh, that’s right!” Ms. Ebear said. “Elle, we worked out a little surprise for tonight at Wednesday’s meeting. There’s not much time, but we could teach it to you if you like.”

  “What kind of surprise?” I asked, and she explained it to me.

  I smiled. “Wow, that’s cool. But totally do it without me. I don’t think I’d have time to learn it.”

  “You sure?” Dylan asked.

  I nodded. “Sure!”

  Dad brought me home for a quick dinner and I changed into my outfit for the dance: a clean pair of jeans and a Nighthawks T-shirt. Mom gave me a look when I walked down the stairs, but she didn’t argue. Even so, I started to defend myself.

  “It’s not even a Valentine’s Day Dance anymore, it’s a Buddy Dance,” I reminded her. “The theme is friendship. It’s casual.”

  “I’m sure many of the other kids will still be getting dressed up, though, Elle,” Mom said. “Are you sure you won’t feel uncomfortable?”

  “Are you kidding? I am beyond comfortable!” I told her. I slipped on my coat and hugged her. “See you later!”

  When I walked back into the gym, it looked even nicer than it had before, with the lights dimmed and a spinning spotlight casting a colorful glow around the room. Some volunteer parents were serving water, hot cocoa, and cookies to the kids who had arrived. Pop music blared from a speaker.

  Avery came running up to me. She looked adorable, in a white dress with little pink hearts, and pink flats.

  “You are too cute,” I told her. “But you know this isn’t a Valentine’s Day Dance anymore, right?”

  She shrugged. “It’s still kind of a Valentine’s Day Dance,” she said. “At least I’m dressed for a dance.”

  I punched her arm. “I can dance perfectly fine in this. Although I don’t necessarily plan to dance.”

  Avery gazed around. “It doesn’t look like anyone else is, either,” she said.

  Even though this was supposed to be a Buddy Dance, where everybody could hang out with their friends, the girls were gathered at one side of the gym, and the boys were on the other. And nobody was dancing.

  I smiled. “I have a feeling that might change soon.”

  Like magic, as soon as I said it, loud rock music came blaring from the speakers. Dylan, Cole, Katie, Gabrielle, Satoko, Emily, and Faith ran out into the center of the gym. They got in a line and started dancing.

  It looked like one of those flash mobs you see online, where people start doing choreographed dance moves and surprise everyone around them. My Buddy Club friends were swaying from side to side, hopping from left to right, and clapping their hands in perfect time. It looked like fun, but I was kind of glad I hadn’t been able to practice it with them. I’m pretty sure I would have tripped over my own feet!

  After a few moves, everybody watching started clapping and cheering. They moved away from the walls of the gym and toward the dance floor to watch. Then Ms. Ebear and Principal Lubin ran out and joined the line and started dancing with them! Everyone went really crazy after that.

  When the song finished, the Buddy Club members took a bow, and a new song started.

  “Come on and dance everybody!” Cole called out. “Dance with a friend!”

  Avery grabbed my arm. “Come on, friend!” she said, and she pulled me out onto the dance floor.

  We ran toward Natalie and Hannah. Natalie wore a pink skirt that matched the pink streak in her hair, and Hannah had on a cute blue dress. That’s when I realized that Mom was right—most kids did get dressed up. Some of the boys were even wearing ties!

  We all started dancing. Dina danced over to us, twirling around like a tornado. Patrice was bopping up and down. The pool of girls and the pool of boys combined into one big sea of kids, and almost everybody was dancing.

  I scanned the crowd, hoping that Amanda had changed her mind, but I didn’t see her. I totally understood why she didn’t like going to dances, but I knew she would have liked this one. It definitely didn’t feel like a regular dance.

  However, we were a roomful of middle schoolers, so there had to be some awkward moments, right? At one point, some of the eighth-grade boys and girls started dancing together. When that happened, some of the seventh-grade boys and girls did the same—like Blake and Bianca.

  That’s when I saw Dylan zigzagging his way toward me. He was one of the dressed-up kids, in a pale yellow shirt and green tie to match the hearts on the wall. He had a look on his face that told me exactly what he planned to do. My stomach sank.

  “Wanna dance?” he asked me.

  Over the next three seconds, I held a rapid-fire debate with myself. This was a Buddy Dance. Dylan was my buddy. So why not dance with him? But if I danced with him, he might think I liked him. Like, liked him. Which I did not. But it was a Buddy Dance… .

  “Okay,” I said. “But you know I’m a terrible da
ncer.”

  He grinned. “So am I,” he said. “But I’ve been, uh, practicing.”

  To my complete surprise, Dylan started to do that dance where you swing your arms back and forth across your body while swinging your hips from side to side.

  “You’re flossing!” I said.

  Dylan blushed. “Am I doing it wrong?”

  “No, it’s perfect,” I said. “I have never been able to figure it out.”

  I tried it, and even though I couldn’t see myself, I knew I was doing it wrong.

  “See? I can’t do it!” I said, laughing.

  Dylan stopped moving.

  “Keep going!” I urged him.

  Dylan launched into his dance. Some other kids noticed and a circle formed around him. I stepped back, out of the way.

  Awkward couples dance averted, thanks to Dylan’s flossing skills!

  Blake approached me. “Your boyfriend’s a good dancer.”

  “He’s NOT my boyfriend,” I said, giving him a shove.

  Blake held up two hands. “Okay! Okay! Calm down.” He changed the subject. “I heard there’s a pep band coming to your games.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, they’re Amanda’s friends. They’re helping out the booster club.”

  “I wish we had a pep band,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Not you, too! You already get cheerleaders and new uniforms and more people come to your games. You know that, right?”

  Blake slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I never really thought of that before.”

  “It’s not just high school, you know,” I said. “I’ve been looking stuff up. Let’s say we both go on to play pro basketball after college.”

  “Okay,” Blake said.

  “Your salary would be something like half a million dollars,” I said.

  Blake raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I said. “But if I was starting in the WNBA, I would make fifty thousand. That’s ten times less than what you would make!”

  “You’re kidding,” Blake said.

  “No, it’s real,” I told him. “Even refs in the NFL make more than WNBA players. Refs!”

  “Okay, that is straight up weird, because first of all, you are a better basketball player than me,” Blake said.