started to play and the twirlers came out with their beautiful costumes and their batons and their big bright smiles. It made your heart beat a little bit faster when you saw them turn and face the judges.
Because it wasn’t people pretending to be good at something, like at Glitterati. There was nothing fake about the Little Miss Majorette Baton Twirling Twirltacular.
It was 100 percent real.
And I loved it.
Just like Erica, Sophie, and Caroline loved my photo from Glitterati.
“A pirate!” Sophie cried. “I’ve never in my life heard of a fourth-grade girl going to Glitterati and dressing as a pirate!”
“Allie,” Caroline said, shaking her head. “You are such a geek!”
But she meant it in a nice way. Soon we were all laughing at my picture…and my stories about Brittany’s horrible birthday party (I explained to Sophie and Caroline about the “misunderstanding” concerning my mom and her job, too, just so everyone understood). That’s what we were talking about when a fifth girl walked up to us.
“Allie?” she said.
“Oh!” I broke off laughing. “Everyone, this is my friend Courtney. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked her to spend the afternoon with me.” I stood up and showed them all the half of the broken-heart necklace I was wearing, and how it matched Courtney’s. “Courtney’s a good friend of mine from my old school.”
Courtney blushed, I guess from seeing that I was finally wearing the necklace she’d given me so long ago. “Hi,” she said to my friends.
“Hi, Courtney,” they all said, and scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
I was glad Courtney had come to the Twirltacular. When I’d called her on her cell phone that morning, she’d said the slumber party had been a bust. After they’d made a few prank calls, Brittany had made the girls play truth or dare, and she’d ended up daring Mary Kay to sneak out into the atrium and pour a can of 7UP onto the heads of some people standing in the lobby below their twelfth-floor room.
Only it turned out the people Mary Kay had poured the soda on had been some police officers.
And they hadn’t liked Brittany’s little prank very much. In fact, they’d figured out which room the girls were in, and gone up there and banged on the door and woken Mrs. Hauser up. In the morning, Mrs. Hauser and all the girls were told to pack their stuff and leave. Before brunch!
None of the Hausers was welcome to check into any of the hotels owned by the Hilton family ever again.
But Courtney hadn’t minded because it meant she got to go home early.
I almost wished I could have been there to see the angry policemen.
“Policewomen,” Courtney corrected me. “They were policewomen.”
That just made the story even better.
“Wait,” Erica said, grabbing my arm. “It’s Missy’s turn!”
And suddenly, the first few strains of “I’m Gonna Knock You Out” came on over the loudspeakers, and out marched Missy.
I don’t know about anybody else, but I was holding my breath as I watched Missy prance forward in her rainbow leotard with all the spangles, then begin her solo, keeping a big smile plastered on her face even as she tossed her baton high, high, high into the air. It soared so close to the gymnasium’s rafters, I was sure it would get stuck and she’d never be able to catch it. Down below, Missy was doing backflips as smoothly as a dolphin cutting through water, not even seeming to care that her baton was tumbling around up there in the air…
…and then, suddenly, she came out of one of her tumbles, and bam —
Just like that, she stuck out one hand and caught her baton…
…then kept right on tumbling, like it was nothing at all.
I couldn’t help it. I screamed and jumped up to my feet, clapping as hard as I could, even though Missy had that no talking rule in her room. I wanted to cry. Not because I was sad, for once, but because it was all so amazing. I had seen Missy attempt that move hundreds of
Because it wasn’t people pretending to be good at something, like at Glitterati. There was nothing fake about the Little Miss Majorette Baton Twirling Twirltacular.
It was 100 percent real.
And I loved it.
Just like Erica, Sophie, and Caroline loved my photo from Glitterati.
“A pirate!” Sophie cried. “I’ve never in my life heard of a fourth-grade girl going to Glitterati and dressing as a pirate!”
“Allie,” Caroline said, shaking her head. “You are such a geek!”
But she meant it in a nice way. Soon we were all laughing at my picture…and my stories about Brittany’s horrible birthday party (I explained to Sophie and Caroline about the “misunderstanding” concerning my mom and her job, too, just so everyone understood). That’s what we were talking about when a fifth girl walked up to us.
“Allie?” she said.
“Oh!” I broke off laughing. “Everyone, this is my friend Courtney. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked her to spend the afternoon with me.” I stood up and showed them all the half of the broken-heart necklace I was wearing, and how it matched Courtney’s. “Courtney’s a good friend of mine from my old school.”
Courtney blushed, I guess from seeing that I was finally wearing the necklace she’d given me so long ago. “Hi,” she said to my friends.
“Hi, Courtney,” they all said, and scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
I was glad Courtney had come to the Twirltacular. When I’d called her on her cell phone that morning, she’d said the slumber party had been a bust. After they’d made a few prank calls, Brittany had made the girls play truth or dare, and she’d ended up daring Mary Kay to sneak out into the atrium and pour a can of 7UP onto the heads of some people standing in the lobby below their twelfth-floor room.
Only it turned out the people Mary Kay had poured the soda on had been some police officers.
And they hadn’t liked Brittany’s little prank very much. In fact, they’d figured out which room the girls were in, and gone up there and banged on the door and woken Mrs. Hauser up. In the morning, Mrs. Hauser and all the girls were told to pack their stuff and leave. Before brunch!
None of the Hausers was welcome to check into any of the hotels owned by the Hilton family ever again.
But Courtney hadn’t minded because it meant she got to go home early.
I almost wished I could have been there to see the angry policemen.
“Policewomen,” Courtney corrected me. “They were policewomen.”
That just made the story even better.
“Wait,” Erica said, grabbing my arm. “It’s Missy’s turn!”
And suddenly, the first few strains of “I’m Gonna Knock You Out” came on over the loudspeakers, and out marched Missy.
I don’t know about anybody else, but I was holding my breath as I watched Missy prance forward in her rainbow leotard with all the spangles, then begin her solo, keeping a big smile plastered on her face even as she tossed her baton high, high, high into the air. It soared so close to the gymnasium’s rafters, I was sure it would get stuck and she’d never be able to catch it. Down below, Missy was doing backflips as smoothly as a dolphin cutting through water, not even seeming to care that her baton was tumbling around up there in the air…
…and then, suddenly, she came out of one of her tumbles, and bam —
Just like that, she stuck out one hand and caught her baton…
…then kept right on tumbling, like it was nothing at all.
I couldn’t help it. I screamed and jumped up to my feet, clapping as hard as I could, even though Missy had that no talking rule in her room. I wanted to cry. Not because I was sad, for once, but because it was all so amazing. I had seen Missy attempt that move hundreds of
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