by Dana Burkey
“I think I’m ready to catch again,” I said a few minutes later after I had thought about things for a bit. I also used the time to allow my arm to stop throbbing. Or at least stop throbbing quite so much.
“Are ya sure?” a coach asked me. He was a big man, his accent as thick as the brown mustache above his mouth. “Ya took a real hit there, and I dun want ya to get back in there too soon or nuthin’.”
“I’ll be okay,” I assured him, standing up and moving my arm around to stretch it out.
Stepping away from the crowd of coaches still near me, I reached my arm over my head in a big stretch. Everyone gave me a little space, just as I hoped. I made a show of rolling my shoulder, and could feel the tightness in my whole arm from the impact the ball had made. That wasn’t too important to me though. The important thing in that moment was that I knew everyone had their eyes trained on me. I just needed to use it to my advantage.
Leaning down, I placed my hands on the gym floor then flipped my leg into the air. The handstand felt weird to hold, my arm not quite ready for the strain. But, I knew it was time to get the girls watching me off my back. When Cate heard that I was a cheerleader she wanted nothing to do with me. And sure, I might have reacted the same way a few months ago. But, just like I had needed to learn about all star cheer, she needed to as well. I wanted everyone in the room to know that being an all star cheerleader didn’t mean I was anything less than a top-notch athlete.
“Oh my goodness,” I heard someone say as I held the handstand in place then slowly lowered myself a few inches closer to the gym floor in what was more or less a push-up. The strain was impossible not to feel, but it was worth it. At the cheer gym I could get a lot closer to the ground, but with the fresh injury, I only managed about half of what I knew I was capable of. Thankfully, it seemed to have its effect.
“Are ya okay?” the mustached coach asked me, not moving towards me even after I was standing back on my feet.
“I think so,” I said with a casual shrug. “Just making sure I can still put weight on it.”
Before anyone could say or do anything else, I took a step forward and did a roundoff. I hopped in the air after the move, looking towards Cate as I did. Her mouth was open a little in what I assumed was shock. Ella was standing next to her, her eyes nice and wide. With a smile, I took another step forward to try the round off once again. This time, as my feet hit the gym floor I pushed off again, doing a back handspring before ending with a full.
“Yep, I’m okay,” I said to the coach who had just asked. Then, with a bit of a skip to my step, I walked over and picked up my mit.
There was a pause in the room as I moved back to stand at the end of the taped off lane where I had been catching. No one seemed to know what to do, but I just played it all off like it was no big deal. The truth was that I was still in a good bit of pain. I knew I would need to apply a lot of IcyHot to my arm before I hit the mat at the TNT gym next time. But I wasn’t going to let everyone else know that. I wanted them to see I was tough. After all, cheerleading wasn’t a sport just anyone could do.
“Why don’t ya try catching for sum wun else for a bit,” the same coach said to me, holding his hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nick Varlee. I coach Varlee’s Construction.”
“That’s a great team,” I told him, remembering hearing how well they did the previous season. Everyone in town, even in the younger league, knew of the team thanks to their winning record.
“Now my daughter ain’t here right now, but I’d like ta see ya catch fer someone with a bit less of a challenge,” he drawled.
It was hard to decipher what he was saying through his accent, but I had a feeling it was important, so I focused as best I could. He continued to tell me about his daughter, who was apparently at the last days of clinics that I had also attended. I didn’t know her by name, but Coach Varlee assured me that Melanie was a great pitcher. He told me that she was going to be his team’s main pitcher now that another girl on the team went on to play for her high school. I nodded, not quite sure where the story was going.
“Here ya go,” he bellowed with a grin after a girl he motioned for started walking our way. “I want ya to catch with Amber here. She’s tha best we got other than my Melanie. Ya can catch fer her a bit so we can all see what ya got.”
With a nod, I gave Melanie a wave then got to work catching. It was a lot easier than catching for the other pitcher, whose name I still didn’t know. Not only did Amber throw at a speed that didn’t make my catching hand numb, she also could land all her pitches in the strike zone. No matter how many pitches she threw my way, they were accurate every time. Even still, Coach Varlee went and made suggestions to her a few times here and there. Based on the exasperated look on her face, I got the idea that she was sick of his comments. I didn’t know how good Melanie was, but Amber was clearly great. Sadly, she would likely always be second best on Varlee’s Construction. Or at least only second best in the eyes of the coach who also had his daughter on his team roster.
By the time the clinic was over that evening I was feeling great about everything. I was catching for Amber long enough for my arm to pretty much stop hurting when I threw the ball back her way and got to watch with a smile as the new catcher working with my previous pitcher struggled. Ball after the ball made it past her, hopefully showing that I had worked hard to catch everything but the last ball thrown my way. I took off my catching gear after we were finally done and headed towards the exit when I heard Coach Varlee call for me.
“Number 12?” he called out, causing me to turn his way. “Ya have a second?”
“Sure,” I replied easily, knowing my dad wouldn’t mind waiting.
“Ya got talent,” Coach Varlee began with a grin. “That catching fer Courtney was hard work, and ya did it. Ya did real good the whole time. Even when that ball hit ya arm, ya were tough as nails. That shows what yer made of.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say but was as least happy to know the name of the pitcher that caused my arm to still be in pain.
“Now like I said, my lil girl Amber ain’t here right now,” he went on finally. “She had another commitment, so didn’t make it like I asked. But, she gunna be here fer the last clinic, and I wanna to see ya catch fer her. Yous all sorts of tiny, but ya got a lot of heart ta keep going after that hit and the way ya caught fer Courtney fer so long. If yer as good a catcher fer Amber as ya were catching today, then I think yous got a spot on my team this season.”
“That would be great,” my reply came easily. “I’d love to catch for her.”
“Perfect,” he drawled. “I’ll see ya at the next clinic then darlin’.”
And with that, he walked away from me, towards where a few other coaches were standing. They were all watching me, I noticed. Sure, it could have been that they were just seeing what Coach Varlee was talking to me about. But, I also got the feeling they were discussing my show of cheerleading moves. This dawned on me as I walked towards the door and was stopped by Cate.
“What was that you did earlier?” Cate asked, Ella by her side.
“My catching?” I asked although I knew what she was referring to.
“No the flips and stuff you did,” she tried again.
“Oh that,” I said with a shrug. “It was just some basic cheerleading stuff to test my arm. I have a big international competition coming up and wanted to make sure I could handle putting weight on my arm with the new bruise.”
“Is it already purple?” Ella asked, pointing to the older bruise peeking out below my shirts hem.
“Not all of it,” I explained, pulling up my sleeve and rotating my arm so both bruises were visible. “I got this one when my stunt team dropped me a few days ago.”
“Dropped you?”
“Yeah,” I said in reply to Ella’s question. “I’m a flier so I get picked up and held above the mat by other girls on my team.”
“Oh,” Cate said, not really understanding.
“Here, I have a photo.” Pulling out my phone I showed the two girls a photo where I was being held up by my stunt team. I was doing a bow and arrow in the photo. My left leg was held next to my head using my right hand and my left arm was crossing over the leg. The move was one I could hold easily for a long time, but I knew it looked cool in photos.
“Wow,” Ella managed, glancing at Cate as if for approval.
“That’s cool,” Cate confirmed.
“Thanks,” I said honestly, glad to have impressed both of them. “Well, I should go.”
The girls muttered some kind of reply, but at that point, I was flying too high to even listen. I walked outside and had a genuine grin on my face as I climbed into my dad’s car. He asked me about my arm, having seen the now much larger bruise as I buckled my seatbelt. I explained the injury through my smile, despite the discomfort the bruise was still giving me. Finally, my mood being too much to ignore, he asked what I was so happy about.
“The coach from Varlee’s Construction wants to see me catch for his daughter at the next clinic,” I explained in a rush. “I think he wants me to be on his team.”
“That’s amazing sweetie.” He paused then, before adding the words that wiped away my smile in seconds. “But how can you go to the next clinic if you’re in Florida for Summit?”
I’m not sure why I didn’t remember about Summit until my dad brought it up, but that was the only thing I really thought about the rest of the night. I sat at the table and worked on homework while icing my new bruise, and went over everything in my head. The clinic was going to be held on Tuesday, which was my day in Florida to spend with Halley and Lexi. It meant that in order to go to the clinic I would have to arrive Wednesday, and not only miss the time with my friends but also the first day of practice. And it wasn’t just Blast that would be affected if I arrived late. The girls on Fuze would also be missing me for running stunts and skills as well.
I was so focused on thinking things over I basically ignored my phone the rest of the weekend, as well as most of the beginning of the week. The idea of starting a conversation that might lead to someone bringing up softball, Summit, or anything in between was not something I was at all interested in. I was a little worried that my friends would be annoyed with me for not talking to them, but that thought was instantly wiped from my head when I walked into the gym for Blast practice on Tuesday night. As soon as everyone saw my hair, it was all they could talk about!
“I can’t believe you didn’t snapchat me!” Lexi exclaimed, actually jumping up and down with excitement.
“Sorry,” I managed between other people making comments about my hair. “I had a lot of homework to do so I was kind of distracted.”
“That’s okay,” she gushed. “But now I totally want to go back to short hair too!”
As Lexi, Halley, and the other girls went on and on about my hair as well as my nails, I looked around the gym and realized it was empty aside from the ladies of Blast. It hit me then that most of the teams were already either in Florida or were on their way there for Worlds. Realizing that we were the only team at the gym for practice was both a relief and weird at the same time. I knew if more people were there then it would mean more people would be going on and on about my hair. But, at the same time, the lack of people also meant that no one was going to be there to cheer us on while we practiced. And in that moment, I wondered if we would still be able to hit as many full outs as we were hoping for.
“Did you sent Connor a picture of your hair?” Halley asked then, making the whole group of girls around me quiet down instantly.
“Uh, no,” I said in reply. “But I can, I guess.”
“No!” someone yelled, catching me off guard.
“Yeah, make him wait to see you in person,” Anna suggested, a grin plastered on her face.
“Okay,” I said slowly, making it sound like more of a question.
“If you snapchat him between now and then don’t let him see your hair, okay?” Lexi explained. “He is going to be in shock when he sees it Monday.”
The mention of Monday had me thinking about the softball clinic immediately. As Nicole told us to line up for warmups, I started thinking again about whether or not I should try to head to Summit late. If I chose to go on time with everyone else, then I would be arriving in Florida on Monday night around 7pm. It would mean I would see all of the Worlds teams before most of them headed home on Tuesday morning. Some athletes were staying all week, but I knew Connor was flying out Tuesday afternoon. If I decided to do the softball clinic I wouldn’t be able to fly out at all until either super late Tuesday or super early Wednesday. It would mean I would miss team practices, and also a chance to see Connor and hopefully congratulate him on winning Worlds. He was one of my best friends at the gym, and the idea of not getting to see him before I took the stage at Summit was a little weird.
“Where’s the energy ladies?” Nicole called out as we began running different sections of the routine once warm-ups were over. “I know we don’t have as many people here tonight, but I need to see you all performing start to finish.”
I couldn’t help but notice Nicole was looking at me as she spoke those words. With my thoughts on softball and Summit and even Connor, I knew I wasn’t performing like I was capable of. Trying to push the other things from my mind, I focused on the routine and the little things like facial expressions and attitude. As a flier, it was my job to really sell the routine at different times. Hand gestures and smiles needed to be over the top. And when I was high above the mat holding a stunt, I needed to look like it was the greatest thing in the world. I could always tell whether or not I had done a good job on all of that by the end of practice. If my face hurt from the over the top smiles and facial expressions, then it meant that I did a good job. Knowing I couldn’t make a decision one way or the other about softball just then, I set my mind to reach that sore face point!
By the time we took a break less than an hour later my face was feeling the burn a lot. I was proud of that fact, but also not enjoying the feeling at the same time. Using my hands to rub my cheek muscles, I grabbed my water bottle and phone out of my cheer bag. Pulling up my notifications I wasn’t too surprised to see a lot of missed messages from Connor. Since I couldn’t be there to see him at Worlds he was sending me information about everything so I felt like I was still a part of everything. Most of his snaps were also posted to his snapchat story, but there were also quite a few photos and videos that were only sent my way. Wanting to reply, I started to take a selfie, only to have Lexi grab my phone from my hands.
“You can’t message Connor,” she reminded me.
“But he sent me a bunch of stuff,” I told her with a sigh. “Can’t I just sent a photo without my hair in the picture?”
“Fine, but I get to be in it!” she finally decided.
I couldn’t help but laugh at Lexi for that one, but leaned in closer to her for a picture all the same. She held the phone at a weird angle that showed mostly her, and only the bottom half of my face. Since my hair was in a half ponytail, held in place by my bow, Lexi made sure that it didn’t show in the photo. She also added a caption to let Connor know that she was the one that took the photo. Eventually, I would be sending him photos when I wasn’t with her, but I didn’t bring it up in that moment. The idea of letting him see my hair in person was fun enough that I decided I would try to keep selfies ‘safe,’ like Lexi and the other girls encouraged.
“Who’s ready to beat our full out record?” Nicole asked, ending the water break before I could worry about sending any more snapchats to Connor.
Standing up, I tossed my phone into my bag and walked to my spot on the mat. It was going to a take a lot for me to stay focused on the routine and not think about all the other things that had been on my mind lately. But, with a deep breath, I tried to push everything out of my head aside from the routine. Plastering a big smile on my face, I counted along in my head to the music then launched into my first series of skill
s and tumbling.
After Blast and Fuse practice Tuesday night it felt like time was dragging. With no reason to go to the gym, it was like I had too much free time. On top of that I was wrestling with my decision to skip part of Summit still, so talking to my friends made me nervous. I was always afraid I was going to say the wrong thing. When I finally walked into Blast practice Thursday night, everyone was worried something was going on with me. I went through the motions of the routine more or less like usual, but it was hard to ignore the questions and worried looks my friends were sending my way. Once I got home from practice, the questions continued, this time in text form. I tried, again and again, to tell them I was fine, but no one appeared to be buying it. Even Nicole seemed to notice something was up since as soon as I walked into Fuze practice on Friday she pulled me aside to talk.
“How are you doing Max?” she asked immediately. The other girls on Fuze were stretching on the blue mat a few feet from us. A few feet out of earshot thankfully.
“Good,” I said automatically, hoping to end the conversation.
