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Isobel scanned the listless faces of her squad mates. Well, she thought, here goes.
She straightened, nodded, and brought her arms down sharply against her sides. “Ready? Okay!”
She fell into the movements she’d only had time to practice in her mind, trying to ignore how ridiculous she sounded shouting at the top of her lungs all by herself.
“Don’t mean to make a ruckus,
Don’t mean to make a fuss,
But there is just one thing
I think we should discuss.
“I shouldn’t try to meddle!
I shouldn’t try to fight!
’Cause pushing fellow teammates
Is simply just not right!”
She turned toward Alyssa now. With one knee up, one fist at her hip and one arm held high, Isobel brought a finger down to aim straight at the other girl. She beamed her hardest, putting on her biggest, brightest cheer smile. Wake up, Alyssa. Pay attention.
“I’m sorry that I shoved you!
I’m sorry that you fell!
I’m sorry that I nearly
Kicked your little tail!”
A chorus of “Oooh!’s” rang through the gym, drowned out only by the raucous laughter that followed. In an instant, Alyssa’s smug expression dissolved. Her face reddened. Out of the corner of her eye, Isobel saw the gleam of Coach’s whistle as it rose to her lips. Before she could be stopped, though, she plunged forward, still smiling. She snapped into a T position, then hit into a toe-touch. She landed with a nod, pouring as much energy into the cheer as she would in any competition, knowing how infectious enthusiasm could be to those of the cheer persuasion.
o;Yes!” shouted Isobel, jumping.
“Go on,” Coach Anne said, waiving them toward the door. “I’m not writing any notes. Get your butts back to class.”
“Come on!” said Isobel.
Together they hurried out of the gym and took a shortcut through the courtyard, their footsteps crackling through strewn leaves.
“Isssobel.”
She stopped and whipped her head around. A breeze washed past them, carrying with it a rush of crisped leaves, the singed smell of autumn.
“What is it?” Gwen asked, jogging up to meet her.
Isobel’s gaze darted toward the cafeteria Dumpster, where she thought she’d seen someone. Her eyes snapped to the oak tree in the courtyard’s center. She caught a dark blur of something just as it vanished behind the trunk. She heard a low rustle. A group of nearby pigeons, pecking at a pizza crust, took off in a flurry.
She tilted her head back to follow their scattered flight. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she caught a glimpse of several dark figures peering down at her and Gwen from the ledge of the roof.
That couldn’t be right.
She dropped her gaze, stepped back to a better angle, and looked again.
What she had first taken for the silhouettes of people’s heads, Isobel could now see were crows. They all sat on the edge of the roof, beaks rifling through feathers, heads turning in small jerky movements.
Someone snickered.
