Suddenly Rocky grabbed the bullhorn out of Isabel's hand and did a little victory dance, leaping into the air.

Maria chuckled. "Ooh, Isabel isn't going to like being teased by a dork in a giant fuzzy outfit."

"She'll get back at him," Michael replied confidently. "Dorks shouldn't mess with Iz. Watch."

Sure enough, Isabel stopped cheering and turned to the mascot with a menacing expression on her face. She held out her hand for the bullhorn.

Rocky shook his big pointed head. Isabel took another step toward him-and stopped. Rocky had jumped high into the air, out of her reach.

The crowd gave a collective gasp as he flipped over in midair, flew about ten feet backward, and landed head down in the trash can full of ice for the football players.

"Whoa, did you see that?" a girl behind Liz exclaimed. "He jumped, like, fifteen feet in the air!"

Rocky struggled out of the trash can and flounced back over to the other side of the field. Liz noticed Isabel smirking at the mascot as he left.

"The weight-to-volume ratio should never have allowed that kind of lift," Liz said thoughtfully.

Maria, Michael, and Alex gave her those blank looks they got whenever she said something sort of scientific.

"Could you say that in English, Mr. Spock?" Maria teased.

"Liz is saying that according to the laws of physics, a guy in a big, heavy mascot costume should never have been able to jump so high in the air," Max explained.

Michael frowned at him. "Not without help, you mean."

"Exactly," Max said.

Isabel pulled the scrunchie out of her ponytail and shook her blond hair free. She liked the way it looked down, all loose around her shoulders. Guys seemed to like it that way, too. In fact, guys seemed to like pretty much everything about Isabel. A satisfied little smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"I can't believe the flip that Guffman mascot did." Stacey Scheinin gave a little hop-and landed on the makeup bag Isabel had just placed on the floor in front of her locker. Isabel gave Stacey a death look, but Stacey didn't seem to notice. She just kept chattering-as usual. Stacey loved to hear herself talk.

"It was like, whee!" Stacey exclaimed. "I think we should all take gymnastics lessons so we can get some moves like that into our routines. What do you say, girls?"

There was a chorus of yeahs and greats, and some general squeals of approval from the Stacey wannabes. Isabel rolled her eyes. The cheerleading squad was divided into two groups-girls who hated Stacey and girls who were trying to become Stacey.

Isabel was definitely in the first group. Why would she possibly want to be like Stacey? The girl was always smiling, or giggling, or squealing, or doing all three at once. But underneath all that syrupy, sugary, humongous-dentist-bill-inducing sweetie-pieness, she had the killer instincts of a cobra.

"Especially you, Isabel," Stacey added. "Maybe if you had some gymnastics training, you wouldn't have such a hard time with the Alien Invasion routine."

Isabel ignored her. Stacey took her job as head cheerleader way too seriously. Obviously it was going to be the high point of her whole pathetic little life. And besides, Isabel's jumps were perfect.

"Well, Nikolas Branson seemed to think Isabel looked pretty good during Alien Invasion," Tish Okabe commented. "He couldn't stop staring at her."

Oooh. Good one, Tish, Isabel thought. Stacey had already made it very clear that she wanted new-boy Nikolas.

Stacey shot Tish an evil look. Tish grinned back.

Isabel chuckled. Her best friend was the kind of person who could find something to like in pretty much anyone. Except Stacey.

"I wouldn't mind taking some gymnastics lessons from Nikolas," Lucinda Baker called from her locker.

Isabel thought Lucinda was basically cool. She definitely wasn't trying to be Stacey. But she was of those girls who just tried a little too hard to be out there-a ripped-black-tights-and-green-lipstick type. Isabel had heard the only reason Lucinda went out for the cheerleading squad was because her mom paid her a thousand bucks.

"Like that would ever happen. Nikolas isn't desperate enough to hang out with you, Loose-inda," one of Stacey's girls said.

Isabel pulled on her jeans. She wanted to get out of there. The estrogen level in the locker room was way too high. There was something about spending too long in an all-girl zone that got on her nerves.

"Let's start a pool on who's going to snag Nikolas!" someone called from the next row of lockers. Isabel wasn't sure who. One of the Stacey-ettes. They all tried to talk in her high little voice, so they ended up sounding a lot alike.

"We don't need a pool for that. Nikolas will go to the hottest girl in school, which would be moi," Stacey announced.

Tish gave Isabel a why-are-you-letting-her-get-away-with-that look. But Isabel wasn't in the mood for a verbal catfight with Stacey.

"If you're so hot, why does every guy in school want to go out with Isabel?" Tish asked Stacey.

"Oh, right-they all want Izzy. Then why was she dancing with Alex Manes at the homecoming dance?" Stacey shot back.

Ouch. It's true Alex wasn't exactly part of the royal court, or whatever you wanted to call it, of Olsen High. And usually the most popular girls-which definitely included Isabel-hung out with the most popular guys, period.

"He's just one of my love slaves. I have to give them a break occasionally or they get despondent, forget to eat, and waste away to nothing," Isabel said, keeping her tone casual.

The only reason Isabel had allowed herself to be seen with Alex that night was because he had been part of a plan to keep Sheriff Valenti from discovering the truth about her, Max, and Michael. It's not as if Isabel could have refused to dance with a guy who was helping save her life.

Well, if she was totally honest with herself, Isabel had to admit that wasn't the only reason she'd agreed to dance with Alex. There was just something weirdly irresistible about him. He had this wacked sense of humor. He was smart. And when he touched her, well, the boy did know what to do with his hands.

Isabel checked her makeup in the mirror inside her locker door and added a fresh coat of cinaberry lipstick. Then she grabbed her bag and headed toward the exit leading to the gym.

"I'll tell Nikolas you've got a little crush on him," she called to Stacey. "Maybe I can convince him to give you a break."

Isabel swept out the door before Stacey had a chance to answer. She could just imagine Stacey's cute little face turning red with anger.

"Isabel!" Max called.

Isabel turned and saw her brother waiting for her. He did not look happy. Neither did Liz, Maria, or Michael. Even Alex, who usually couldn't stop grinning like a fool when he saw her, looked sort of grim.

Something must have happened. Something big. Something bad. Did Valenti figure out the truth about them? Did he know who they were? Isabel walked rapidly over to her friends, her shoes echoing in the empty gym.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a low, urgent tone.

Max snorted. "What's wrong?" he repeated, mocking her. "You know exactly what's wrong."

He didn't sound scared or worried. So there wasn't any big emergency. He was just pissed off. At her. What was his problem? She hadn't done anything. Well, okay, she stuck him with doing the dishes last night. Big whoop.

"Not a very bright move, Iz," Michael said.

He sounded as disapproving as Max. What was going on? Had everyone just forgotten to tell her it was National Anti-Isabel Day?

"You know Valenti is still looking for aliens in Roswell," Liz added. "You know how dangerous he is."