Say Yes to the Cheerleader

by Abby Crofton

  “You had that little bit of personality bump when you came out, but even that was underwhelming. Why couldn’t you have announced you were gay in some big, lasting way that people would still be talking about months later?” The glare she was giving me was so intense, her eyebrows almost met in the middle. But again, no pause for me to answer. “You don’t even post anything on Facebook or Twitter. Are you even a real person?”

  After a few seconds of silence, I realized that she was waiting for a response. “Yes, I am a real person,” I began before she cut me off again.

  “And now no one remembers that you’re a lesbian, and Madison Philanuzzi will be student rep, and my four-year high school plan will be ruined. And that means my four-year college plan needs to be modified, which throws my twenty-year plan off. So basically you’ve destroyed my life.”

  I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. My sister was incredibly smart and driven, but she was still a teenage girl.

  I turned in my chair so that I could look at her face to face. “So to recap: you insult me a couple of different ways, then make it sound like you want to help me, but really you just want something for yourself. Do I have that about right?”

  “Yes, exactly!” she yelled, raising her arms in triumph. My attempt at shaming her went right over her head. I wondered if whatever ailment she had was in her psychology book.

  Eddy continued. “I tried to be tactful, but obviously it didn’t work. Next time, I’ll just cut all the nice stuff and go straight to what I really mean. You are ruining my life and you have to fix it. Be more of a lesbian.”

  My mind went directly to Kate Monroe and her smiles earlier in the day. Me wanting to kiss her would definitely be considered more lesbian, but no way was I telling my sister about any of that. About how I could tell it was Kate Monroe in the hallways just by getting a glimpse of her wavy blonde hair. Or that every time she crossed her legs in history class, sitting just two rows in front of me, I wanted to build a temple to worship those perfectly muscled calves. I especially couldn't tell my sister about how I dreamed about Kate Monroe at night, always in her short cheerleader skirt and nothing else. I was taking that last one to the grave with me.

  So instead of telling my sister just how much of a lesbian I really was, I deflected. “I’m not changing myself because you want to win an election. What you see is what you get with me. And I don’t need to make a big production of who I am. I’m the same Haley, it’s just that now everyone knows I like girls.”

  Eddy stared at me for a few seconds. “I don’t think you’re as comfortable being out as you say you are. I saw your face when I said that there’s been talk. You looked like you were going to have a heart attack. You thought I was saying that people were talking about you, didn’t you?”

  Behind that selfish, calculating personality of my sister’s, there was also a perceptiveness that I was now silently cursing. “I’m fine with being out.”

  And I was. It was good not feeling like I was lying to everyone. I’d never dated guys or pretended to like them, so I’d never actually lied about being a lesbian, but inside I’d felt guilty letting people assume I was straight.

  “You don’t act like you’re fine sometimes. You haven’t joined the Gay Straight Alliance, even though I know for a fact they invited you because I’m the secretary and I know everything that goes on with that group. You also avoid Jenny Jeffries like she’s looking to murder you.”

  In addition to tormenting me, Jenny Jeffries had also been the only out lesbian in school before I’d shuffled my way out of the closet. My school had had a few gay guys throughout the years, but Jenny had been the sole lesbian. Even before she’d said she was gay, everyone had just assumed she was. She always kept her hair short, played on a traveling softball team, and signed up for the auto mechanic class any time it was offered as an elective. Stereotypes exist for a reason.

  Sarah, who had been in college with an actual girlfriend, had seemed so much more exotic and interesting than Jenny did, though she had been just as equally out. It probably had to do with the fact that Jenny had always been really mean to me. Ever since elementary school, she had called me names, told people that I smelled bad, poked at me when a teacher wasn’t looking, and anything else she could think of—short of physical abuse—to show how much she didn’t like me. It had always been more annoying than anything else. And to be honest, I had wondered if she'd been so bad toward me for all these years because she was secretly in love with me. Like the old saying that a boy pulls the pigtails of the girl because he really likes her. Jenny didn’t bother anyone else but me.

  So I had avoided her since my English class confession, notwithstanding the occasional hallway staredown, but only because I didn’t know what I would do if she confessed her love to me one day. Actually, I knew exactly what I would do: run away, as fast and as far as my legs could carry me.

  “Jenny Jeffries has been awful to me for years. Of course I’m going to avoid her,” I said to Eddy. “I'm not entirely sure she won't murder me.”

  “So it has nothing to do with her being the only other lesbian at school, then?” she responded with a bit of disbelief in her voice.

  I took a second to think about it. Maybe I did avoid Jenny because she was the only other lesbian. I didn't want people to assume that we would be friends just because we were the only two out females in school. I wasn’t going to magically forget all the aggravation she’d caused me over the years just because we now shared one single thing in common. Being known as a lesbian did not mean I was required to hang out with, or date, Jenny. I was all for solidarity, but Jenny Jeffries and I would never be friends.

  “Whatever,” Eddy said, any empathy she had shown vanishing with a shrug. “All I’m saying is that I have a certain reputation to uphold. I’m a winner. And losing an election would make me a loser and ruin that reputation. So get your stuff together and start wearing flannel or dating or anything that reminds people that you're a lesbian and that a vote for me would be a vote for diversity and inclusion and all that other stuff.”

  Before I could again point out the ridiculousness of her reasoning, she had left the room, probably going upstairs to plot more political intrigue. Madison Philanuzzi had no idea what she was in for by going against my sister, who in twenty years would either be super successful or bring shame to us all when she went down in flames.

  If she knew that there was a possibility, even a slight, almost nonexistent one, that Kate Monroe wanted to go out with me, she would do everything in her diabolical fifteen-year-old power to get us together. If we were dating, it would be the biggest news in the school. Everyone would definitely remember that I was a lesbian.

  So it was a good thing that Kate Monroe and I would never be a couple. My drama-free life would come to a swift end with all the attention that dating the most popular girl in school would cause. I shuddered just thinking about being the subject of so much gossip. Just another mark against that entire crazy fantasy.

  But I could not get rid of that little part of me that thought all the kissing and cuddling would be totally awesome.

  Chapter 4

  I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead out the windshield. I had been looking at the same tree in the school's parking lot for a few minutes already, mapping out the branches and leaves. It was a good tree. It looked sturdy and healthy as far as I could tell, but then, I wasn't an arborist. Maybe that could be my major in college. Something else I'd been putting off, figuring out what I wanted to study when I got to the university. I had been so preoccupied with getting in that I hadn't thought about what I would do when I got there.

  It was now the morning after Kate Monroe had blindsided me by initiating a conversation. She had no idea the stress she had put me through just by acknowledging my existence. The day had started normally for the first ten seconds after I woke up, but then everything from the day before had slammed into my consciousness, and I’d almost tried to fake sick so I
didn't have to go to school. But by the time I had thought up a realistic illness, I was already up and out of bed and in the shower. My mind was saying, Stay in bed and pretend you have the whooping cough, but my body was on its own separate track with, Time to start your morning routine, let’s go! Mind over body was a horrible lie.

  Eddy had rushed me out of the house, saying that she had a before school meeting she could not miss, so I was out the front door and driving before I knew it. I didn’t think it was safe for me to be driving so much while I was in a mental haze, but the short drive between my house and the high school was so familiar that I was probably okay. Hopefully.

  As soon as I’d parked, Eddy had practically jumped out the car, but not before telling me to remember what we had talked about yesterday. I did not want to give her hope by acknowledging her, because as far as I was concerned, all that nonsense yesterday about me not being a good enough lesbian was trash. So she’d left, and that was how I’d ended up alone in my car, staring at trees and contemplating my future as an arborist.

  A tap at the passenger-side window had me turning my head to the right, and my body jerked as if all my muscles had decided to spasm at the same time. Kate Monroe was looking in through the window and waving at me. There was no mistake this time, since I was the only one in the car. I stared at her for a few seconds before I was able to give a weak wave back. That must have been a sign for her, since she then opened my door and sat in the seat my sister had just vacated a few minutes ago.

  This was surreal. Kate Monroe was in my car. It was just the two of us, alone, in my car in a practically deserted parking lot. Maybe I had gotten into a car crash on the way to school this morning and I was in a coma dreaming all this. At that moment, it seemed just as likely a possibility as actually having Kate Monroe invite herself to sit in my passenger seat.

  “Good morning,” she said with a smile. It was crooked on one end. I had to stop noticing stuff like that if I was going to try to talk to her, which it appeared I had to do since she had started talking to me.

  “Hi,” I responded. “How’s it going?”

  What I really wanted to say was, What in the freak are you doing in my car? You are giving me a heart attack! My chest felt like someone was sitting on it, and I could feel the sweat rolling down my sides underneath my shirt. Weren’t those the classic signs of a heart attack?

  I must’ve had a better poker face than I thought, because Kate Monroe kept on talking as if I wouldn’t be needing an AED anytime soon.

  “I’m great. I woke up early today and just felt like getting out of the house, so I came to school early with the idea that I’d get some studying in before classes. But I saw you sitting here and decided to come say hi. So, hi,” she said with another wave. It was the most adorable thing I had ever seen another human being do in my entire life.

  I tried to smile but my face felt weird, as if I’d forgotten the basic mechanisms of moving my lip muscles up in the right direction. Was I having a stroke now, with paralysis of the face? Kate Monroe was unwittingly becoming hazardous to my health.

  She was talking again, saving me from the effort of stringing more than three words together while in her presence. It was good to know she was a benevolent goddess.

  “I also wanted to give you back your notes. Thanks for letting me borrow them yesterday,” she said, bending over her backpack slightly and rooting around in it, presumably for the notes. This gave me a few seconds to just watch her perfect profile without seeming like too much of a creeper. Her hair was as nice and shiny as ever.

  “No problem,” I whispered. It was all I could manage while Kate Monroe sat next to me, our arms almost touching. Being in such a small space alone made talking with her seem much more intimate than she’d probably intended.

  She sat up and turned to face me suddenly. “Got it,” she said triumphantly. She was holding my notebook in her hand, but the only things I could focus on were her eyes. This close, I could tell they weren’t really blue, but more of a green-brown-blue mix. They were the type of eyes that changed color depending on the light or what she was wearing that day. In my car, they were more brown, but I was sure that in the bright sunlight they’d sparkle like the ocean.

  I took the notebook. “That’s great,” I said. “I’m glad the notes were useful. Sorry about my handwriting, most of the time no one else can read what I write.”

  Without the notebook in her hands, she started playing with her fingers. “It wasn’t that bad. Though it did take me a little bit to figure out what all those arrows meant. You have a unique way of taking notes.”

  My smile came a little easier this time. “Yeah, Marie hates when she has to read something that I’ve written down. She says it never makes any sense, but it makes sense to me when I’m writing. I understand better later when there are more than words written down. I’m surprised you were able to decipher my code so fast.”

  Kate Monroe's fingers clenched for a second, then stilled. I was mesmerized by every little move she made, but I realized that staring down at her lap could be taken the wrong way. I lifted my eyes up and found she was already looking at me. Actually, she was looking at something right behind me. I turned my head a fraction to try to see if there was anything there, but I couldn’t make anything out.

  "So," she started, "Marie's your best friend, right? I've seen you two together a lot, and you seem like you're close."

  Not sure if that was a question or not, I started talking. "Yeah, best friends since freshman year. Turns out we both sucked at volleyball, and we ended up bonding over our shared failure. Stuck together ever since."

  "Cool," she said. But she said it in a distracted way, like she really wanted to be talking about something else. Maybe she’d had more trouble with the notes than she was letting on and didn't want to admit it? She should not have to worry about failing the next test just because I had lousy handwriting.

  "If you need help with history, let me know. Maybe we could have a study session before the next test. Or review anything you're not sure of. I know it can be hard to catch up when you miss a class."

  Her eyes got very wide for a second and she took a quick breath, like I had surprised her. I probably had. We hardly knew each other, and here I was inviting her to study together. I could be totally hopeless at history and she wouldn't know. I wasn't totally hopeless, but she didn’t know that.

  Before I could either backpedal or try to reassure her that I wasn't trying to sabotage her history grade, she began speaking. "Okay, we can do that, sounds good! How about tonight? At your house?" The imploring look on her face was super cute. There was no way I could turn her down.

  "Okay," I replied. I thought quickly about my schedule, trying to remember if Eddy had anything going on tonight, or if both my parents were going to be home. "My place, around six, okay? If you have anything going on, then we could make it later," I said. It was like I was on autopilot and just talking to a regular person and not Kate Monroe. My palms were still really sweaty, though.

  A huge smile formed on her face. It was different from the other smiles I had seen from her yesterday. The other smiles had almost had an unstated purpose behind them. This one seemed more natural and not as forced. It was my favorite.

  "No, that should be fine," she said. "I have cheer practice after school, but that's usually done before six. I'll just head over your way after.” I could barely contain my nerves as we exchanged information.

  Kate Monroe was coming to my house tonight. Maybe in her cheer uniform. This was the luckiest day of my life. I almost could not believe it, but here I was talking with her. Unless I had died and this was all a very elaborate post-death vision, it was very true.

  We sat in my car not saying anything for a few seconds. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but a few different thoughts were racing through my mind. One, this was unbelievable. Two, she was so pretty. Three, did I remember to put on deodorant today? Because if I hadn’t, then I had to be a stinking mess with
all the sweating I had done already before 8:00 a.m. I must not have smelled too bad if she hadn’t gotten out of the car yet. Why hadn’t she gotten out of the car yet? Was I supposed to say more?

  I opened my mouth, but since I couldn’t think of anything to say, a weird creaking noise came out of it. Unfortunately, it was loud enough to get her attention.

  “Are you hungry? I think I have a granola bar in my bag.” Before I could politely decline, she was bending over and looking through her backpack again. The back of her shirt rode up just a bit, and I could see the tiniest bit of skin on her lower back. I bet it was really soft.

  My hormones were in overdrive. She came back up with a granola bar in her hand. I took it when she handed it to me and managed a “thank you.” It would have been rude to refuse when she had already gone to the trouble to find it for me. But no way was I eating it. I might have already used up most of my luck for a lifetime by just having her talk to me for so long, and I didn't want to increase my odds of choking and dying before tonight. I would save it and admire it for the remainder of time. A token of this one special moment.

  I had to get out of this car before I went crazy. If it wasn't already too late.

  As if she had read my mind—which would have been the worst thing possible at this second, because then she would’ve known that I was thinking about her in a decidedly nonplatonic way—Kate Monroe grabbed her bag and put her hand on the door handle.

  “I guess I’ll get going, then,” she said. “Class is starting in a few minutes.” Before I could finally relax my nerves, she added, “Do you want to walk together, since we are going to the same place?”

  "Sure," I said. I had a real hard time saying no to this girl. That might be dangerous in the future.

  As I turned and got my own bag from the backseat, my face came within inches of her hair. I couldn't help taking a quick sniff. I didn't know what brand of shampoo she used, but she smelled like vanilla and mint. It was nice. Everything about Kate Monroe was nice.