The Substitute (Replica #13)

One Amy Candler studied the large menu and debated her choices for dinner. Seventh Heaven Heavenly Shrimp sounded pretty good, she thought. She turned to her best friend, Tasha Morgan, who was sitting alongside her at the round restaurant table. "What are you getting?" "I can't decide," Tasha said. "It's between the Buffy Bacon Burger and Felicity's Fabulous Fondue." Tasha's father was frowning. "I don't understand this menu," he grumbled. "South Pork, what's that?" Amy leaned across the table. "Mom, what are you ordering?" "I'm thinking about the Popular Pizza," her mother told her. "I guess that must be one of their bestsellers." Amy and Tasha exchanged exasperated looks. "Mom, it's not called Popular Pizza because it's popular," Amy explained patiently. "This is the TV Diner, remember? All the dishes are named after TV shows or the characters on the shows." "Or TV stars," Tasha added. "Like the Jennifer Love Juice." Nancy Candler and both the Morgan parents still looked clueless. Amy turned to Eric, who was sitting on her other side. "Do you know what you want?" Expressionless, Eric shrugged, making a big show of indifference to the whole selection process. "I don't know. Whatever." He glanced back at the menu. "Ros- well Chili sounds good." Tasha read the description. " 'Chili so hot, you'll know it's from another planet.' Eric, you don't like spicy food." "It does strange things to your stomach," Amy reminded him. Eric muttered his reply so that only Amy could hear him answer, "Like you care." Amy said nothing. That was the third snide remark he'd made to her that evening. Tasha hadn't heard him, but she was aware of the tension between her brother and Amy. And she knew what it was all about. She made an effort to change the subject. "I like your necklace--it's very cool," she told Amy. Amy fingered the black beads. "Thanks. I found it at a flea market in Paris." Even without looking, she knew that Eric's face had darkened. But what was she supposed to do, never mention Paris again? She certainly couldn't avoid the subject that evening. That was why the two families had come together for dinner. They were celebrating the return of Amy and her mother from Paris, France. Mr. Morgan wanted to hear about the food they had eaten, the city's architecture, and the historical sites they'd seen. Mrs. Morgan was interested in art and other cultural stuff. Tasha didn't have many questions, mainly because Amy had already filled her in the night before, when she'd stayed overnight at the Morgans'. Amy had reported on all the really dramatic happenings, the events the Morgan parents--and even Amy's own mother--would never know. Eric knew about Amy's secret adventures too. That was why he was in such a foul mood. Paris was momentarily forgotten as the waiter appeared to take their orders. "Tell me about this Ally McVeal," Mr. Morgan said to the waiter. "And what is Dawson's Creek Trout?" Ordering took up some time, but as soon as the waiter left, the topic returned to Paris. "Did you see the view of the city from the top of the Eiffel Tower?" Mrs. Morgan wanted to know. "Oh, yes," Nancy assured her. "It was spectacular." Amy tried not to look at Eric, but she could feel the chill of his glare. He didn't mind that she'd been at the top of the Eiffel Tower. He was angry about who she'd been there with. Tasha intercepted the look and moved in to change the subject. "I forgot to tell you last night about the  big news at school," she said. "You missed some real excitement." "Really?" Amy asked. "What happened?" "Three cheerleaders were kicked off the squad." "You're kidding!" That was news. Being a cheerleader at Parkside Middle School was a very big deal. "Which ones?" "Amber Vincent, Kristy Diamond, and Vickie Gilligan," Tasha recited. "It turned out they were involved in some scheme to steal the midterm exams." "Wow," Amy breathed. She wasn't particularly upset by the news, since she didn't even know the three girls, except by reputation. The cheerleaders were all from the most elite clique at Parkside. "What a scandal!" she added. Tasha nodded. "I was assigned to write the article for the Snooze," she said proudly. That was what everyone called the school newspaper, which was really named The Parkside News. "I had to interview all the cheer- leaders. Naturally, they all said they knew nothing about the scheme." "Naturally," Amy echoed. "Those girls stick together." "And they were so stuck-up," Tasha continued. "I don't know why they think they're so hot." "Because they are." Eric spoke up. "That Katie Moore is a babe." Amy had to bite her tongue. She hated to hear any girl referred to as a babe, even a snotty cheerleader. It was so demeaning to females in general. Eric wasn't usually sexist like that. He probably thought he could make Amy jealous by demonstrating his admiration for another girl's looks. Boys could be so transparent. "There are going to be open tryouts for girls to replace the cheerleaders," Tasha said. Mrs. Morgan smiled wistfully. "I always wanted to be a cheerleader when I was in school, but I never made it. You girls should try out." "What's the point?" Amy asked. "Only girls from that clique ever make it onto the squad. Even if they can't do the moves. The cocaptains make sure of it." "Oh, that can't be true," her mother objected. "Surely they want the cheerleading team to do well. They wouldn't let an unqualified girl on the team, even if she was one of their friends." Amy and Tasha exchanged knowing looks. Parents could be so naïve. But Tasha had a surprise for all  of them. "Actually, I am thinking about trying out." Amy blinked. "You are?" "Sure, why not? I can do pretty decent cartwheels and splits." "I know you can," Amy replied, "but do you want to?" She was totally bewildered. Tasha had never before expressed any interest in cheerleading. "Not really," Tasha said. "But I just hate the way no one bothers to try out unless they're in that clique. At least maybe I can make some waves. It could turn into a good article for the Snooze." Now Amy understood. It was frustrating the way certain cliques controlled certain activities. "Yeah, that's cool. I'll help you practice if you want." "Great, thanks." "Amy, why don't you try out too?" Mrs. Morgan asked. Amy didn't have to look at her own mother to know there was a cautionary expression on her face. There was no way Amy could go out for cheerleading, and Amy knew it.