Dark Night

Preparation

When I got home, evidently Grandpa hadn't gotten back to my parents. My dad looked up from some papers he was reading. "How did the election go, Delia?" he asked.

"I lost," I said shortly. My loving brother snorted. "By fourteen votes. They counted the ballots three times, and the vice-principal said she'd never seen such a close vote."

"I'm sorry, honey," Mom said, then looked at me more closely. "Is that a new t-shirt?" I tried to take it as a friendly question rather than an interrogation.

"It is. I made the drill team," I said.

"Why do you want to do that?" my brother said scornfully. "Bunch of dingbats in short skirts. I thought you were above airhead stuff."

"Our drill team is better than the one at your school," I said flatly as Dad opened his mouth. "It seems like fun, and it's a different type of activity to put on my college applications."

"The figure skating reps told you that you should keep a low profile," he said, frowning. I rolled my eyes.

"You have to listen to them. I don't." My brother sat up straight. "And thinking back, what they said, tactlessly, was from their perspective it was good that I don't overshadow you. Of course, this is a local drill team that doesn't compete, so that's not a big thing, from their perspective, and of course they're not counting things that really matter like grades, where you've got nothing on me. I'm the powerhouse there. I don't have to care about their opinion or their directives, they don't have any authority over me." My brother looked like I'd just whapped him across the head. My mom looked thoughtful and Dad looked surprised as well. "Furthermore, you wear crystal-encrusted unitards on a regular basis, so if I were you, I wouldn't criticize anybody else's wardrobe choices," I snorted.

Dad got that familiar pinched look on his face. "Is there a payment plan for the costumes? How much gear do you have to have?"

"We have two costumes, two pairs of shoes, a clear raincoat, pompoms, and tights to be worn at performances that are not during school time. Our costumes are mass-produced, they're cheap, the team kicked in forty dollars toward our gear, and I paid in full today."

"Can you afford that, Delia?" Mom asked. "We could have done part of it on a payment plan--"

"My whole kit was a little under $200," I said over her. "That's not quite a paycheck. The skater over there probably spends that on skate laces during a season."

"I thought it would be much more," Dad said. I shook my head.

"This is high school, for normal people. Most families aren't going to put down a huge amount for an extracurricular activity. We're kind of pushing it with two dedicated uniforms. Well, I'm going to my room. Goodnight."

"Night, honey. Congratulations," Mom said. I took the paper from my bag and went into my room to do warm ups and stretches. I didn't want to be the one who didn't do enough, let down the team. I also reviewed a document that set forth the school expectations for the team in more detail than the conduct pledge I'd signed. There were academic eligibility requirements, which I ignored because I could flunk all my classes and my GPA wouldn't drop enough to have me kicked off the team. No tattoos or piercings (other than ears) that showed, no smoking, drinking, or drug use, no PDAs when wearing a Spartanettes uniform or branded clothing (I snorted. Right. I didn't have anybody to snog), careful use of social media so as not to give a bad impression, no hazing or gossiping or swearing, be polite and respectful, work hard, learn the routines quickly, and be a good team member, basically. No prob. We were to remember that we represented the school.