Ready? OK! (Chapter 4)

The day after, Lizzie came to school by herself, still having cheerleading on her mind. When she got out of her red car, she noticed that her backpack was not zipped. So while she walked through the halls, Lizzie tried to zip her backpack closed. Once she got it sealed, she looked up to see one of the judges from the day before. It was the quiet red-headed girl with a funky sense of fashion. Lizzie put on her backpack correctly and put on her "mean girl" face. She approached the girl who was inserting her backpack and a few books into her locker.

"Hey," Lizzie barked.

The red-head turned her head. "Hey," she responded nicely. She closed her locker and faced her body toward Lizzie. "I know you."

"I know you know me," Lizzie's voice deepened. "I know you, did you know that?"

The girl's forehead crinkled. "I guess."

"You guess? You better know, know what I am saying?"

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"If I didn't know you, I'd have one less problem... without you."

"Okay."

"Okay? All you have to say is 'okay'? Do you know any other words that don't require to be spelled? Huh?"

"Listen, if you're mad about getting rejected yesterday, I'm sorry."

"Puh-shaw! I ain't fazed. I only came to check it out. Know what I mean? But you should be sorry for yo'self for even existing... girl!"

"Okay, your spitefulness is coming off very urban."

"Listen, alright? La-la-listen, I don't know who you think you are but I know who I am. And I am the baddest Beatrice in the whole wide world... or school so I just want you to know that in the end of the day, I'm better than you at being a person."

"Okay, number one: what are you doing? And number two: I'm not in charge of who gets in the cheerleading squad; Pamela is. So I am deeply sorry that you didn't get in. I thought you were fantastic. And even though Pamela is in charge, I can still -- or I could've -- make a recommendation for you because I'm able to do that."

Lizzie paused. "Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry for my attitude," her voice came back to normal. "I just thought you were a T-blocker so I was behaving like one, too, so you can include me in the squad. But you seem nice and I wasn't nice to you. So I'm sorry and please don't have second thoughts about recommending me even though you probably already are having them."

"Lizzie, you seem like a nice girl. I've been trying to get more cheerleaders into the squad so I can have someone to talk to. I'm tired of Pamela and Celeste, always talking about nail polish and MTV. But recently, they have been ignoring me so it's hard for me to get a say in anything. So I'm going to blackmail Pamela a little bit."

"How are you going to do that?"

"With this." The red-haired girl opened her history textbook and flipped through the pages until she found a piece of printed paper. She picked it up to show Lizzie. "This is a picture of Pamela chowing down on chicken wings with barbecue sauce. Can you say 'not on a diet'?"

"Ooh, where did you get that?"

"I found it in her home in the trash."

"What are you doing going through her trash?"

"I would not like to talk about that. But she clearly did not want anyone to see that, though it's weird that someone would take a picture of this. I'm gonna tell her that I'll put this on Facebook unless she hears what I have to say."

"Then I'll be in?"

"You'll be in."

Lizzie squealed. "Thank you!"

"No problem."

"What's your name by the way?"

"It's Kari." She put the picture back inside her textbook.

"How do you spell that?"

"K-A-R-I."

"Isn't that pronounced 'Carrie'?"

"No, it's Kari."

"I know but the way it's spelled--"

"Why don't you just ask my parents?!"