"You have three seconds to get downstairs everyone or you'll be running laps around the block!" Tara called. I could imagine the sardonic smile taking over her features. If anyone was power hungry, it was that girl.
I threw the sheet off my legs, which were feeling the effects of the previous day’s workout, and slipped out of bed. I banged on Emily and Becca’s doors on the way down to make sure they heard the commotion. They both shuffled out after me and we hustled downstairs only to stop dead in our tracks when we saw the upperclassmen lined up in front of the small fireplace. They each had a camo bandanna tied around their head and black stripes beneath their eyes.
They were dressed for war. I was dressed in fuzzy socks and a long sleeping shirt.
"Line up!" Tara yelled. Becca and I exchanged knowing glances. Was this normal or was Tara actually going off the deep end?
Either way, we listened. All the rookies lined up and faced the upperclassmen without saying a word.
"Today is the first day of your initiation onto our team. It's a rite of passage. It was done to everyone that came before you, so suck it up and take it like a champ." Why did that sentence seem so foreboding? Like she was about to ask us to bend over.
That's when I saw the costumes laid at their feet, and I groaned. We were going to have to dress up.
"Excuse me, Kinsley, is there a problem?" Tara asked with a hard stare.
"No," I answered quickly, glancing at the array of colors and fabrics on the living room floor.
"Are you sure? Because you don't seem to want to be here." She was picking a fight and I knew it. She wanted an excuse to go harder on me than the rest of the girls, and I wouldn't give it to her.
"No, I'm excited," I answered, looking up at her with a small smile. It was like looking into the face of the devil and accepting his challenge.
"Good, then you'll be thrilled to see what you're wearing to practice today, Bryant." She reached down and picked up a hideous bright yellow spandex leotard and tutu. Seriously, whoever made it had perfected the exact shade of puke yellow.
"You'll be our snitch."
Oh god. My eyes took in the other outfits, suddenly realizing the theme. There were wizard robes and scarves from all of the houses in Harry Potter. Some of the other stuff I didn't recognize, but I'm sure, like my spandex outfit, they all served some kind of purpose.
I was at once impressed with the idea and also dreading having to put that outfit on. I didn't really have a choice, though. I didn't want to be the whiny rookie. I wanted to accept Tara's challenge and up the ante any way I could.
Tara threw the outfit toward me and I had to think fast to catch it.
"Pass out the rest of the outfits," Tara instructed, and her little minions quickly began following orders.
I thought mine would be the worst, but when they handed Becca her outfit, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"You'll be a quaffle," Sofie explained as she handed Becca a ridiculous outfit made up of a brown tutu that spanned from her chest down to her hips. She'd look like a giant shower loofah.
"What is a quaffle?" Becca challenged as she reluctantly took the outfit from Sofie.
"It's some sort of quidditch ball from Harry Potter. Who cares, just wear the dumb outfit." Sofie waved her hand and dismissed her.
"Go change and be back down here in five minutes," Tara yelled.
Emily, Becca, and I all ran up to my room so we could change and complain in silence.
"What the hell? Are they allowed to do this!?" Becca asked as she stood in front of my mirror, taking in her ridiculous getup. I couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer her.
"I'm sorry. You guys definitely got the worst outfits. It doesn't seem fair," Emily answered as she finished putting on her fake glasses and wizard robe. The bitch got to be Harry Potter and she looked cute in her fake glasses.
"Emily, you suck," I joked, pulling the spandex leotard up over my sports bra. It was supposed to be my size, but the spandex was tight enough to make it hard to breathe.
"At least they gave you a tutu. You'd look ridiculous just wearing a leotard," Emily offered, trying to show me the bright side. The bright side was that I wasn't dressed as a giant brown loofah.
"How about when we get back from practice, we burn our outfits and use the ashes to put a curse on Tara," Becca suggested as we put on our long soccer socks and running shoes.
"Rookies, thirty seconds to be back down here!" Tara’s voice rang out.
The three of us rolled our eyes and hopped up, slinging our cleats over our shoulders. One glance in the mirror was too much. Puke yellow was not my color and the tutu made me look like a nine-year-old.
When we made it back downstairs, it was clear that Emily had been right. Everyone else was wizards. Well, most everyone. One girl was dressed up as a broomstick. Or maybe just a stick. It was hard to tell.