She stared at me with hard, dark eyes, the whistle perched between her lips. I wasn’t sure whether I had done something wrong or whether I wasn’t supposed to be in the gym, but I’d definitely done something to get her attention. When she turned away from me and toward the girls in the middle of the gym, I could see the name “MATHISEN” emblazoned across the back of her shoulder blades.

She blew hard on the whistle and all of the activity in the gym came to a halt. The girls immediately sprinted to the middle, where she’d stationed herself. Their red, sweaty faces watched her every move. She spoke quietly, her head rotating slowly through the group, looking at each and every girl. When she was done speaking, she held her hand in the air and the girls pushed together, raising their hands up to hers. After a couple more seconds, they all screamed, “ROAR!” and then separated once again, talking and chatting amongst themselves as they picked up their water bottles and warm-ups.

I caught Maddie’s eye and waved at her. Brenda told me that she would text her to tell her I was going to come get her, so she didn’t seem all that surprised to see me. She waved back and signaled that she’d be a minute. I nodded and smiled, hopefully conveying we weren’t in a rush.

“Normally, we don’t allow that type of clothing in this gym,” a voice said to my right.

I looked away from Maddie and was surprised to see the woman with the whistle standing next to the bleachers, her hands on her hips, a frown on her face.

I looked down at my wardrobe. Hooded sweatshirt, yoga pants, running shoes. Then I looked at her. “Excuse me?”

She pointed right at my chest. “That. We don’t like to see that in here.”

I looked down again. My red hooded sweatshirt had “MOOSE RIVER DAYS” written across the front of it. I’d gotten it maybe three years earlier, during the annual Moose River street fair.

“But you look like you might not be a regular so I’m willing to let it go,” she said. “For today.”

A regular? Wouldn’t she know most of the parents of her cheer team? “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I told her. “I’m just picking up my friend’s daughter.”

She nodded, like she’d expected that. “Like I said. Not a regular, so you aren’t familiar with the rules. Given that Moose River is our rival, I don’t like to see anything with their name on it.”

“Aren’t we in Moose River?” I asked. It was a rhetorical question – I knew without a doubt that the gym in the industrial buildings south of downtown was well within the city limits.

“Of course,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. They have Moose River in their name. We don’t. So anything with Moose River on it gets me agitated. That’s why most of our girls are from the surrounding cities.”

“Um, okay.”

She jutted her hand out. “Greta Mathisen. Head coach of the Cheerlicious Cheetahs.”

“Daisy Savage,” I said, shaking her hand. Her fingers were surprisingly cold. “I’m picking up Maddie Witt.”

She pumped my hand up and down a couple times before she finally let go. “Ah, okay. Well, we’ll definitely let it go today, then. Maddie is one of our best athletes.”

“That’s...good to hear.”

She nodded. “Yeah, you’ll probably have a lot of sad friends there in Moose River in a couple days.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Coach Mathisen made a sound that sounded a little like a cackle. “Because they’re going to lose. Big time.”

I saw Maddie pulling on her sweats on the other side of the gym and chatting with another girl. I thought about her siblings, stationed at toilets throughout the house. She didn’t look sick at all.

I glanced back at the coach. “Who’s going to lose what?”

She frowned at me like she couldn’t believe I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Are you serious?”

“Not always, but in this case, yes. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The frown stayed on her face. “The Northern Suburbs Cheer-Off?”

I stared blankly at her.

Her eyes rolled. “It’s only the biggest annual cheer competition in the northern Twin Cities suburbs. It’s the big regional tournament.”

“Oh.”

“I take it you don’t have any kids.”

“I have four.” She stared at me incredulously and I added, “But none of them do cheer.”

She shook her head and the look on her face was so sad, I felt a momentary twinge that my kids might actually be missing out on something because they’d never gotten involved in cheer. But then I came back to my senses. We were talking about cheerleading, not the Peace Corps.

“I see,” she said. “A shame. Well, anyway. Your Moose River friends will probably be crying in their oatmeal after we trounce the pants off of them.”

I didn’t think we knew anyone who was part of the Moose River Fusion cheer team, but I wasn’t sure that would matter to her. She was acting like everyone should have been familiar with all of the cheer competitions in the area because they were the most important things on the planet. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t really see the point of cheerleading, and that I’d encouraged my girls to participate in sports and activities rather than stand on the sidelines and cheer for others.

“Well, that sounds great for you,” I said, trying to fake a little sincerity.

“Yeah, yeah, it will be,” she said. “Moose River Fusion has dominated the NSCO for years. But we’ve got their number this year.” Her mouth flared into a wide grin. “And they’re experiencing a little bit of trouble this year.”

I thought back to my dinner conversation with Brenda. “You mean their missing captain?”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you are familiar with all of this?” She glanced at my purse. “I hope you aren’t here to spy.”

What did she think I had hidden in there? A microphone? A video recorder? A bomb to decimate her gym?

“I told you,” I said. “I’m here to pick up my friend’s daughter. But I’m aware that Amanda Pendleton’s missing. She’s in a play with my daughters and I heard she was also involved in cheerleading.”

Her face soured and she looked like she wanted to spit. “Amanda Pendleton isn’t just involved in cheerleading, alright? She’s probably one of the best cheerleaders in the state of Minnesota. Powerful. Fast. Can tumble like nobody’s business.” She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. “And she got her start with me.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, you better believe it is,” she answered, mistaking my question for some sort of challenge. “Before she trained with me, she didn’t know a cartwheel from a cart of apples. But I got her straightened out. I got her on the right track. I turned her into a cheerleader.” She paused. “She owes me a lot.”

Maddie was finally walking across the gym toward us and I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief.  “I’m sure she’s grateful.”

Coach Mathisen snorted again. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But, no. She showed her gratitude by jumping ship. This is karma.” She leaned in closer to me. “Karma, I tell you. They stole her from me, she fell for it, and now they’re all dealing with karma. And we’re gonna kick their butts.”

I stood up. “I’m not sure a missing girl is karma. I think there are plenty of people worried about her.”

She cleared her throat. “Oh, right. Right. I’m sure they are. I mean, yes. I hope they find her. I don’t mean that I don’t want them to find her. I just mean...I just mean we are going to kick their tail feathers, and this is what they get for stealing Amanda from me.”

I didn’t really understand what she was getting it and I was really put off by her entire attitude. Being competitive was one thing, but reveling in someone else’s misfortune was something else entirely and I thought it was kind of gross. Her glee over Amanda’s disappearance was pretty apparent because she thought it gave her team a distinct advantage. I hoped she was wrong.