Book 70: Stacey and the Cheerleaders, part 5
Chapters 13-15 ahead! Unfortunately, the book is still really boring through to the end. It's short because I really don't like the ending of this book and don't care to spend a lot of time talking about it.
Chapter 13
Stacey is trying to force down the school cafeteria's Salisbury steak, wondering how it got its name ("Did someone named Salisbury invent the sauce? If so, he should have been arrested.) instead of eating it. Apparently her stomach is upset from nerves - it's been two days since the cheerleader tryouts and the results won't be available until tomorrow. Geez, Stacey. Might I interest you in one of these?
I can understand being nervous, but that nervous over something that's already said and done? Especially since middle schoolers are notorious when it comes to nepotism - you're totally in just for being the captains' new BFF. And she's seriously freaking out, trying to analyze Sheila's voice when she says "good morning" to her, becomes convinced she's making the squad when Penny smiles in her direction, and then changes her mind when Darcy is distracted after second period. Guys, is this normal? She's distracted in all her classes, her skin is breaking out with "three huge pimples" (is this the first time a BSC member has had less-than-perfect skin?! I'm surprised they'll be seen with her!) and she's pondering how she can be expected to attend the same classes and eat the same old cafeteria crap when this life-changing event is set to happen! I was melodramatic as a teenager, but this is a bit much.
At lunch, Claudia tries to distract her by telling her about Tiffany's garden plans, and Stacey doesn't give a fuck, which is pretty great. But she does take to heart Claudia's advice about choosing a hobby for the right reason.
Stacey's nervous stomach gets to her, and she gets up to bolt to the bathroom. Claudia looks panicky, thinking it's her diabetes (don't non-diabetics get nauseated, too?), but Stacey assures her she just needs to hurl and barricades herself in a stall, figuring that if she has to puke, she'd rather do it in private. I'm sure the janitor also appreciates your consideration. Her nausea starts to pass just as a bunch of cheerleaders bust into the bathroom and start gossiping. Apparently they haven't checked for feet, which is such a rookie mistake.
They start going on about who's dating and kissing who (they're OMG-ing about a kiss on the cheek, what the hell?) and Stacey digs around in her shoulder bag for a comb (do kids really carry purses in middle school? I guess she could be using it instead of a backpack, but that sounds like it'd be a bitch to carry up stairs) and manages to burp silently. She's ready to emerge when the girls start giggling about how panicked Stacey has looked since the tryouts. Stacey is furious for some reason, even when Margie says she doesn't get why she's so nervous; she was great and is a shoo-in for a spot.
But then! Brace yourselves, guys. This is the most horrendous act of villainy in literary history. Forget A Clockwork Orange. Forget American Psycho. They start dissing the BSC.
I know, guys, I know. Take a moment to compose yourselves. It'll be okay. We'll get through this together.
They start laughing about how Jessi taught Stacey her routine, and wonder if Jessi learned to dance from Sesame Street. Again, is this normal? When I was in middle school, the grades all saw themselves as more or less equals and having friendships that spanned different grades wasn't at all unusual.
However, Stacey's righteous anger dissipates as soon as Margie comments that Stacey's a better cheerleader than all of them. Nice, Stacey. Corinne complains that ever since "miss baby-sitter" came along with her "bouncy-bouncy hair" (ha!), she's lost her chance with Robert. Stacey is outraged all over again, because this is apparently a grave insult. If the truth hurts, Stace, stop getting those horrible 80s perms. Then we'll all be happy.
Chapter 14
After homeroom the next day, the girls are told to come to the gym at the beginning of eighth grade lunch (the whole grade has the same lunch period? That must be some cafeteria.) Stacey goes into panic mode again, but Robert gives her a card signed "to my favorite cheerleader - you're great!" and that calms her down. Okay, that's pretty sweet. It doesn't help with her nerves, though - she's shaking so hard that two teachers ask if she's having a diabetic reaction. Again, is this level of nerves normal, especially given that she knows she's almost certainly secured the spot?
Long story short, Stacey doesn't get the spot. Kathleen Lopez does. Stacey immediately starts being catty, thinking about "her decent but not spectacular turns, her okay split, her nice but wavering smile." You were singing a different tune in the competition, weren't you, Stacey? There girls really have no self-esteem problems, do they? She tells herself that she's not being conceited; it's true. How many times have we heard that one?
She asks Margie why she didn't make the squad, which is fair enough, and Margie shrugs that they picked the best girl, with a "condescending smile." This girl is a really shitty loser. She immediately decides that it's a conspiracy because she's dating Robert and is better than everyone on the squad. This may be true in Stoneybrook, where the BSC is the best at everything, but what kind of lesson is this for the kids reading it? If you don't win, it's never because you're simply not the best, it's because someone hates you.
And of course, Corinne tells Stacey that all of this is true. Fantastic. And because of the horrible injustice of a girl he's dated a few times not making the squad, Robert quits the team. Way to cut off your nose to spite your face, Brewster. You're not exactly MENSA material; I'd think you'd want to keep a sports scholarship option available for college. He even gives the coach a big speech about how it's unfair to favor athletes and cheerleaders. Welcome to the world, Bob. It ain't fair, but that's how it is. The coach is unimpressed, saying that he'll be easy to replace. Burn.
Chapter 15
The whole chapter starts with an editorial in the school newspaper about favoritism. And apparently because of Robert's hissy fit, they're instituting new rules about keeping your grades up or else you'll get cut from the team, and they beg him to come back to football, but he refuses. Kathleen Lopez is so upset by finding out why she really got the spot, she quits (which is understandable; that'd be pretty embarrassing), Sheila invites Stacey to take it and all is well. Once again, everything turns out in the BSC's favor, which is equivalent to all being right and just in the world.
You know, this is one thing I really don't like about the BSC books. They never fail at anything (well, that's hyperbole, they've failed at least twice when they couldn't cure autism or overthrow the corrupt beauty pageant system). They're capable of changing the minds of entire groups of adults. They change school policies, are invited into police interrogation rooms, and never get reprimanded for telling adults what to do. Yes, I know telling kids that they can change the world is a good thing, but the way they go about it is so unrealistic. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does, but the fact that this pack of preadolescents is always so much smarter, more effective and of better character than pretty much every adult or every other kid over the age of 10 in town? It bugs me.
Chapter 13
Stacey is trying to force down the school cafeteria's Salisbury steak, wondering how it got its name ("Did someone named Salisbury invent the sauce? If so, he should have been arrested.) instead of eating it. Apparently her stomach is upset from nerves - it's been two days since the cheerleader tryouts and the results won't be available until tomorrow. Geez, Stacey. Might I interest you in one of these?
I can understand being nervous, but that nervous over something that's already said and done? Especially since middle schoolers are notorious when it comes to nepotism - you're totally in just for being the captains' new BFF. And she's seriously freaking out, trying to analyze Sheila's voice when she says "good morning" to her, becomes convinced she's making the squad when Penny smiles in her direction, and then changes her mind when Darcy is distracted after second period. Guys, is this normal? She's distracted in all her classes, her skin is breaking out with "three huge pimples" (is this the first time a BSC member has had less-than-perfect skin?! I'm surprised they'll be seen with her!) and she's pondering how she can be expected to attend the same classes and eat the same old cafeteria crap when this life-changing event is set to happen! I was melodramatic as a teenager, but this is a bit much.
At lunch, Claudia tries to distract her by telling her about Tiffany's garden plans, and Stacey doesn't give a fuck, which is pretty great. But she does take to heart Claudia's advice about choosing a hobby for the right reason.
Stacey's nervous stomach gets to her, and she gets up to bolt to the bathroom. Claudia looks panicky, thinking it's her diabetes (don't non-diabetics get nauseated, too?), but Stacey assures her she just needs to hurl and barricades herself in a stall, figuring that if she has to puke, she'd rather do it in private. I'm sure the janitor also appreciates your consideration. Her nausea starts to pass just as a bunch of cheerleaders bust into the bathroom and start gossiping. Apparently they haven't checked for feet, which is such a rookie mistake.
They start going on about who's dating and kissing who (they're OMG-ing about a kiss on the cheek, what the hell?) and Stacey digs around in her shoulder bag for a comb (do kids really carry purses in middle school? I guess she could be using it instead of a backpack, but that sounds like it'd be a bitch to carry up stairs) and manages to burp silently. She's ready to emerge when the girls start giggling about how panicked Stacey has looked since the tryouts. Stacey is furious for some reason, even when Margie says she doesn't get why she's so nervous; she was great and is a shoo-in for a spot.
But then! Brace yourselves, guys. This is the most horrendous act of villainy in literary history. Forget A Clockwork Orange. Forget American Psycho. They start dissing the BSC.
I know, guys, I know. Take a moment to compose yourselves. It'll be okay. We'll get through this together.
They start laughing about how Jessi taught Stacey her routine, and wonder if Jessi learned to dance from Sesame Street. Again, is this normal? When I was in middle school, the grades all saw themselves as more or less equals and having friendships that spanned different grades wasn't at all unusual.
However, Stacey's righteous anger dissipates as soon as Margie comments that Stacey's a better cheerleader than all of them. Nice, Stacey. Corinne complains that ever since "miss baby-sitter" came along with her "bouncy-bouncy hair" (ha!), she's lost her chance with Robert. Stacey is outraged all over again, because this is apparently a grave insult. If the truth hurts, Stace, stop getting those horrible 80s perms. Then we'll all be happy.
Chapter 14
After homeroom the next day, the girls are told to come to the gym at the beginning of eighth grade lunch (the whole grade has the same lunch period? That must be some cafeteria.) Stacey goes into panic mode again, but Robert gives her a card signed "to my favorite cheerleader - you're great!" and that calms her down. Okay, that's pretty sweet. It doesn't help with her nerves, though - she's shaking so hard that two teachers ask if she's having a diabetic reaction. Again, is this level of nerves normal, especially given that she knows she's almost certainly secured the spot?
Long story short, Stacey doesn't get the spot. Kathleen Lopez does. Stacey immediately starts being catty, thinking about "her decent but not spectacular turns, her okay split, her nice but wavering smile." You were singing a different tune in the competition, weren't you, Stacey? There girls really have no self-esteem problems, do they? She tells herself that she's not being conceited; it's true. How many times have we heard that one?
She asks Margie why she didn't make the squad, which is fair enough, and Margie shrugs that they picked the best girl, with a "condescending smile." This girl is a really shitty loser. She immediately decides that it's a conspiracy because she's dating Robert and is better than everyone on the squad. This may be true in Stoneybrook, where the BSC is the best at everything, but what kind of lesson is this for the kids reading it? If you don't win, it's never because you're simply not the best, it's because someone hates you.
And of course, Corinne tells Stacey that all of this is true. Fantastic. And because of the horrible injustice of a girl he's dated a few times not making the squad, Robert quits the team. Way to cut off your nose to spite your face, Brewster. You're not exactly MENSA material; I'd think you'd want to keep a sports scholarship option available for college. He even gives the coach a big speech about how it's unfair to favor athletes and cheerleaders. Welcome to the world, Bob. It ain't fair, but that's how it is. The coach is unimpressed, saying that he'll be easy to replace. Burn.
Chapter 15
The whole chapter starts with an editorial in the school newspaper about favoritism. And apparently because of Robert's hissy fit, they're instituting new rules about keeping your grades up or else you'll get cut from the team, and they beg him to come back to football, but he refuses. Kathleen Lopez is so upset by finding out why she really got the spot, she quits (which is understandable; that'd be pretty embarrassing), Sheila invites Stacey to take it and all is well. Once again, everything turns out in the BSC's favor, which is equivalent to all being right and just in the world.
You know, this is one thing I really don't like about the BSC books. They never fail at anything (well, that's hyperbole, they've failed at least twice when they couldn't cure autism or overthrow the corrupt beauty pageant system). They're capable of changing the minds of entire groups of adults. They change school policies, are invited into police interrogation rooms, and never get reprimanded for telling adults what to do. Yes, I know telling kids that they can change the world is a good thing, but the way they go about it is so unrealistic. It shouldn't bother me as much as it does, but the fact that this pack of preadolescents is always so much smarter, more effective and of better character than pretty much every adult or every other kid over the age of 10 in town? It bugs me.