Forces of Nature

The Law of Averages

"I noticed you haven't given me some encouraging pep talk."

It was Monday morning, and lack of sleep was making me cranky. Of course, the only person I had to blame for the last two sleepless nights was myself, but that was beside the point.

Leaning against the locker beside mine, Courtney snorted. "Well, what would you like me to say? Of course Tyson believes you were helping me clear out my gutters this weekend. He wouldn't think twice about the fact you tend to have a meltdown attempting anything higher than a flight of stairs, or that I, of all people, wouldn't be caught dead touching slimy, rotting foliage and desiccated bird shit. Hey, maybe he thinks Drew and his nanna came over and helped. She's in late seventies, arthritic, and just had a hip replacement, but I'm sure Tyson has complete faith she could clear out a few gutters."

Slamming my locker shut, I thumped my head against it and whimpered. "Oh, my God. You're right. This is a disaster of epic proportions."

"At least he hasn't called you on your bullshit," she pointed out, inspecting the emerald green polish on her fingernails. In a bid to calm me down on Saturday night, she'd given us both manicures; my own nails were currently a deep plum.

"Yet," I muttered, dread twisting my stomach into knots.

Tyson hadn't contacted me at all yesterday. I'd sent him a text around midday, just checking in, but hadn't heard back. It was probably an omen of things to come. With that in mind, I thumped my head against my locker again.

"There you are!"

Annnd in response to Ashleigh's pronouncement, another thump.

She came up on my other side, her citrus and floral perfume wafting about her like a pleasant smelling cloud. "I just had an emergency squad meeting at six-thirty this morning because apparently none of these girls rate sleep as a necessity of life, and now, even after four cups of coffee I am so ready for a nap – why are you banging your head on your locker?"

"I'm going to hell," I moaned.

"She's going to hell," Courtney chirped at the same time.

"And you're trying to get there faster by smashing your own head in?" Ash queried with a frown.

Sighing, I turned so my back was pressed against my locker. "You were saying something about a nap?"

"What? Oh, right." Ash rolled her eyes. "So, we're in full crisis mode. I was only half listening – my first cup of coffee ran out ten minutes in. But there's a local magazine wanting to publish an article on our squad. Small time, but any publicity is good publicity. Anyway, their sole photographer went and took the fast way down a flight of stairs; broke her hand in three places. So she's out, and we're left with two options: run the article without pictures, or take our own."

Courtney grimaced. "We live in a digital age where a picture really is worth its weight in gold. There'd be no point in a print only article; who'd even bother reading it?"

"Exactly." Ash tugged at her braid, worrying the end between her fingers. "And, I'm still not sure how this happened, but I was given the crucial task of finding us a replacement photographer who can give up a few lunchtimes this week and possibly a few afternoons so we can meet the Friday deadline. For free, I might add, considering every cent of our budget is accounted for. I was reminded several times that our cheerleader's lives depend on this."

"Still happy you quit competitive gymnastics to truly embrace the high school experience?" Courtney asked with a smirk.

Ash made a face at her. "Today, I'm not so sure."