The Clique by Valerie Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

probably just one of the side-effects of ecstasy. Nothing to worry about.
                  Sean quickly gets bored of the swingset, but the jungle gym keeps him occupied for quite some time. Kate sits on a rock, feeling like she’s babysitting a seven-year-old.
                  Finally, her boyfriend seems to remember her. He hops off a plastic slide and walks over. “Isn’t tonight just the greatest night ever?”
                  “Sure.”
                  “Hey, you wanna know a secret?” Sean whispers. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you, ever since elementary school.”
                  “What?” Kate didn’t go to elementary school with Sean.
                  Aude did.
                 

Chapter Six
    Instead of going to Kate’s house with the rest of her friends on Wednesday afternoon, Maddie heads to the girls’ locker room to change into a black leotard. The day she’s practiced for all summer has arrived: Patriots tryouts are in fifteen minutes. Maddie looks around the nearly-empty locker room. At least there won’t be a lot of competition.
                  Sure enough, when Mrs. Davis, the dance coach—a thin, perky woman with a huge smile and mousy brown hair—sits behind a table in front of the bleachers, only four other girls are standing beside Maddie.
                  “Ladies, ladies, welcome! I assume you’re all here for tryouts?” Mrs. Davis leans forward expectantly.
                  Maddie nods along with the rest.
                  “Very good!” She launches into a speech about “what it means to be a Patriot”. Maddie tunes her out, for the most part, but manages to catch something about choreography and “only one open spot”.
                  “I’m sorry,” Maddie says. “Could you repeat that last part?”
                  “I said—“ the teacher drums her fingers on the table “—that our choreography this year is only appropriate for an even number of dancers. Which means either only one of you will make it, or three of you will. Or, if you’re all extraordinarily good, I suppose we might have room for all of you. But I’m not particularly keen on managing sixteen girls, so…“
                  In other words, she doesn’t wanna come out and say that only one of them is going to make it, but—Maddie looks down the row, spotting at least two other girls who definitely aren’t in very good shape—that’s probably what’s going to happen.
                  “Who would like to go first?” Mrs. Davis asks.
                  Maddie keeps her hand down. She’d rather let somebody else go first. One of the girls she pegged as out-of-shape steps forward. “I’ll go.”
                  Mrs. Davis nods. She pats an old stereo. “Did you bring your music?”
                  “Yeah.” The girl pulls out her phone and frowns at the boom box. “It’s on here, though.”
                  “That’s alright. I have a connecter cable, somewhere…“ Mrs. Davis leans under the desk. “Aha! Here you are.”
                  Maddie and the three other girls sit on the lowest bleacher while the girl cues her music. She begins a routine set to an upbeat drum track. Other than a few spins and one attempt at a split, the routine is complete white-bread: about as bland as dancing can get. Maddie knows she can do better than that.
                  The next girl starts her tryout; an older-looking girl sitting next to Maddie sighs.
                  “Well, unless all three of us make it—“ she gestures to Maddie and the other, freshman girl on the bleachers “—it looks like we’re competing for the same spot. This is just sad.” The older girl has skin that’s the same golden-tan color as Maddie’s and shiny brown