Ready? OK! (Chapter 5)

Less than a week later, Kari went through with her plan of blackmailing Pamela with the photograph of her eating chicken wings. Pamela agreed to let Kari include whoever in the cheerleading squad and one of the people she let in was Lizzie. So afterwards, Lizzie and four other new girls were some of the cheerleaders that were part of the basketball game taking place in Laguna Beach High's gymnasium. Madeline and Andrea came to the game just to support Lizzie.

"I'm so happy for Lizzie," stated Andrea.

"I'm happy she's happy," Madeline added.

"It's good to know that Pamela doesn't have power over anything."

"I know because I have power over anything."

"Really?"

"Of course. I'm the school president."

"Okay."

"Seriously, I could've gotten Lizzie into the squad."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I wasn't asked to. Besides, Kari had the right mind and because of her, Lizzie is the cheerleader she wanted to be."

"So you support blackmail?"

"No, of course not. But I can use Kari. She can be my top spy agent."

"No, she can't."

"Yes, she can."

"You don't have that type of power."

"Yes, I do. I'm the Jesus of this school."

"No."

"Yeah."

"You're not."

"I can hire anyone for anything."

"This is a school. You're not a real president."

"Hurt my feelings some more, why don't ya?"

"I'm telling the truth."

"Telling the truth won't make you my ambassador."
"¿Lo dice en serio? You can do that?"

"Yes, yes, I can. Or I did because you already were my ambassador."

"Oh, mierda, that's so cool."

"It is. I'm president."

Andrea looked down at the basketball players sitting in the front bench. "Do you think Roger can see me from up here?"

"Roger Tate? When did you start liking him?"

"Once he grew pit hair."

"Ew."

"Says the girl who likes taco meat."

"I don't like a lot of it. A little does justice."

Andrea waved her arms. "Roger!"

"Don't call him."

"Why?"

"He'll see you."

"That's what I want."

"But he doesn't know you."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. Roger!"

A buzzer was audibly heard. Instead of the players, the cheerleaders in maroon uniforms got up and took positions in front of the bleachers. The visitors lowered their volume when an amplified voice said, "Time for the cheer-off. First, Laguna's own Breaker cheerleaders!"

Madeline and Andrea was two of the people who applauded. Lizzie stepped forward in front of her fellow cheerleaders with a megaphone.

"Give me a 'B'!" she yelled into the megaphone.

"B!" repeated the crowd.

"Give me an 'R'!"

"R!"

"Give me an 'A'!"

The crowd hesitated a bit. "A?!"

"Wait, how do you spell 'breakers'?" Lizzie turned and asked without the megaphone.

"Oh, dear," Madeline sighed.

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?!"

Ready? OK! (Chapter 3)

The next day, after school, Lizzie decided to drive Debra to her house since Lizzie planned going there anyway. Once they arrived and finished their homework together, the girls decided to do some yoga in Debra's bedroom. They switched in more comfortable clothing and helped each other stretch.

"I am still in shock about the whole audition," Lizzie shared, reaching her arm over her head, making lean down to the left side.

"Why do you think you didn't get in?" asked Debra, doing the same thing as Lizzie but to the other side.

"Maybe I missed a few steps. But the moves I couldn't remember, I improvised. Overall, it was a good performance."

"Then I don't understand why you're not in."

"Me neither."

The girls switched arms.

"I thought I defined 'cheerleader potential' in my audition," said Lizzie. "I wore a cute outfit, I did a dance I rehearsed twenty times and I even used the song that was in that terrible Bratz movie."

"Did you know anyone who was judging your performance?"

"Well, there was a ginger girl, Celeste from my history class, and Pamela."

Debra stood up straight. "Pamela McAdams?"

"Well, not Pamela Anderson, even though that would've been so cool."

"That's why you didn't get in."

Lizzie stood up straight as well. "Why?"

"Because Pamela hates you."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that."

"It's so unfair for her to do that to you. You are talented."

"I know Pamela hates me but this is cheerleading. Leave what we personally have outside the cheerleading area."

"I agree. She can't just exclude you because she hates you."

"She kind of can because she's the head cheerleader."

"Nonetheless, we should do something."

"Should we tell Maddie do something about it? She is school president. That's like the Jesus of school."

"We can or you can do something by yourself."

"But you said 'we'. I heard you. Or at least I think I heard you."

"I know. But I'm piecing everything together. Okay, Pamela is a mean girl."

"Yeah, meaner that Angelina Jolie from 'Maverick'."

"'Maleficent'."

Lizzie scrunched her forehead. "That's a word?"

"Okay, and mean girls think that they can do whatever they want to do and like whoever they want to like."

"Uh-huh."

"So the only way to get in is to act like a mean girl."

"I'm not sure I'm following."

"You're nice."

"Thank you."

"But that can seem weak."

"Oh."

"So you must face Pamela or the other 'judges' and act like them."

"Okay, I can do that."

"Sooner or later, you'll be a cheerleader."

"So since my niceness comes off as weakness, should I start being more mean?"

"Oh, no, Doll. Being mean is Andrea's job."

"Yeah!"

Ready? OK! (Chapter 2)

Later that day, Lizzie arrived at the gymnasium where the cheerleading auditions were held. She gazed upon the small line of girls that stood next to the table of three judges. The judges studied the girl auditioning in front of them as Lizzie stood in the back of the line. The girl auditioning was an overweight freshman with glasses who danced to the music of "Shake It Off" by Taylor Swift. The judges watched in individual horror as the girl danced horribly in nature but kept a confident face the whole time. Once the song was over, the girl abruptly stopped and posed.

"So did I get in?" she asked with a smile.

One of the judges happened to be Pamela McAdams, an ally of the Cow Belles and an enemy of the girls. She told the freshman, "Can you spell 'No'?"

"So I didn't get in?"

"Can you spell 'listen'? No, you didn't. Now run along, chubby."

"I'm telling my mom!"

"'I'm telling my mom'," Pamela imitated.

The girl huffed then ran away out of the gymnasium.

"Don't worry," Pamela said to the brunette next to her, "she'll eat a cheeseburger then she'll be happy again."

The both laughed except for the red head left of Pamela. When Pamela looked at her, the red head tittered a fake laugh.

"Next!" Pamela yelled, rapping her pencil.

The girl in the front of the line stepped out in front of the judges' table. "Hi, I'm Katie," she introduced herself.

"Hey, I saw you flirting with my boyfriend last week," shouted the brunette judge.

"Oh, no," said Katie before running out of the gym.

"Once this is over, I'm-a handle mine," the brunette said to Pamela.

"Next!" Pamela yelled.

As the next girl in line stepped out, Lizzie whispered to the girl in front of her.

"Wow, the judges are really tough on them."

"Yeah, the head cheerleaders are not the nicest girls in school," whispered the blonde girl.

"Especially Pamela. She's always mean to me and my friends."

"Why don't you report her?"

"'Cause she'll just ruin my life on the internet. She told me that."

"But then she'll get arrested."

"Yeah, but then she'll have to be released afterwards and once she does, she'll find and murder me."

The girl turned around. "That's kind of cruel."

"Yeah but I have to do whatever to save my life. It's called 'sacrifice'."

The girl turned back around. "Right."

"So what brings you here?"

"Well, I've always wanted to be a cheerleader since I was a kid. Now I have the chance."

"I've been wanting to be a cheerleader since I learned that you don't have to be one for an actual football team. What if you don't make the squad?"

"Um, I'll make it."

"But what if you don't?"

"I will."

"Oh, you're in denial?"

The girl turned around. "No, I'm--"

"Next!" Pamela yelled while snapping her fingers.

The blonde girl turned around to see she was first in line. She smiled then stepped out in front of the table. "Hi, I'm Alexandra," she introduced herself.

"You got a CD, Alejandro?"

"No and it's Alexandra. I'll be doing a chant."

"Then do it, Allison," said the brunette judge.

While doing rehearsed movements, Alexandra asserted a rallying call. "Let's go team, let's go group. Do we got spirit? Yes we do!"

She attempted a herkey but ending up falling on her bottom.

"Do you got spirit? No, you don't!" Pamela mocked. "You're done."

"Wait, give me another chance," Alexandra scrambled up.

"Sweetie, you used up all your chances when you fell. Next!"

Alexandra began to cry before sloppily running away.

"Hi," greeted Lizzie, walking out while digging through her backpack.

"Ew," Pamela uttered.

"Good to see you, too, Pamela." Lizzie pulled out a CD case and dropped her backpack down. "I'm Lizzie to the rest of you."

She ran over to the CD player on the floor and pressed a button to make it open. She took out the CD inside and replaced it with hers. She took off her yellow pumps and closed the CD player. She pressed "Play" and ran out in front of the table. On the CD player played the song, "Take It to the Maximum" by Prima J. Once the lyrics were heard, Lizzie began to break it into impressive dance moves. She did all kinds of movements such as swirling her hips and doing the robot. The girls in the line nodded their heads to the song and showed admired faces. The judges, except for Pamela, watched her in astonishment. Pamela's demeanor remained stiff, even when Lizzie started back-flipping flawlessly. When the song finished, Lizzie posed like a rockstar as every girl in the gym, except for Pamela, applauded her.

"So am I in?" asked Lizzie, out of breath.

Pamela glanced at the judges with her demeanor more lightened. She then looked at Lizzie then answered the question with, "No."

Lizzie frowned. "No?"

"N-O, no."

"But... I killed it."

"You killed something but it wasn't 'it'. Next!"

Ready? OK! (Chapter 1)

"I'm on a mustard diet," confessed Madeline, holding her sandwich half with both hands.

"What?" asked Skye.

"I'm only eating sandwiches with mustard in them."

"Why?" asked Andrea.

"Because mustard is the healthiest condiment you can put in a sandwich besides peanut butter. And I want better skin so I'm eating every sandwich I have with mustard since I feel like I can't eat a sandwich without something wet in it."

"That sounds weird," commented Skye.

"Yeah, I know but that's how I feel."

"So you're going to eat PB and J with mustard in it for now on?" Lizzie questioned.

"No, I'm going to eat regular PB and J. I'm just gonna put mustard on my turkey sandwiches."

"What happened to ham?" asked Andrea.

"Ham is fattening. Fattening encourages pimples."

"You and your knowledge."

"I have news as well," declared Lizzie.

"What is it, Liz'?" asked Debra.

"I'll give you a hint. Give me a 'C'; give me an 'H'; give me an 'E'-- Wait, how do you spell 'cheerleading'?"

"You're becoming a cheerleader?" asked Madeline.

"How did you know?"

"You just told us."

"Aw, I ruined the hint. But yeah, I'm gonna audition to be a cheerleader."

"That's very good, Lizzie," Debra approved.

"Thank you. It is very good."

"Ugh, I hate cheerleaders," Skye spilled.

"So you're gonna hate me?"

"No, I didn't say that."

"You're lucky I'm not a cheerleader yet."

"You can be whatever you want."

"Why do you hate cheerleaders?" Debra questioned.

"Because the ones here 'get around'."

"Get around where?" asked Lizzie.

"I mean they... do stuff."

"Yeah, like dance and cheer and--"

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"So they do other things because dancing and cheering is all I know."

"You know what, Lizzie? I know who you are so you can be a cheerleader if you want."

"I appreciate the support."

"When are you auditioning?" asked Madeline.

"Today. I've been looking at the flyer forever so I didn't know if I was ever going to audition. But since the auditions are today, I've decided to tell you before I go for it."

"Well, you're going to nail that audition, Liz'," Andrea remarked.

"Thanks, I know. But thank you, Debra, for helping me stay flexible."

"You are so welcome," said Debra.

"And I'm not going to hate you if you do become a cheerleader," said Skye.

"Good," said Lizzie.

"You just don't like to be pepped, Skye," Madeline deduced.

"No, do you understand how many times I've been 'T-blocked' by cheerleaders?" inquired Skye.

"What is 'T-block'?" asked Lizzie.