A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love

by Kieran Scott

  “Daniel, Annisa, on the mat, please,” Coach said.

  We exchanged a determined look and I knew that Daniel, at least, was ready to work. Good. Because I was more than eager to start learning these stunts. They were definitely going to bring a whole new dimension to the team.

  That was if we could all manage to concentrate long enough to get it together.

  “We’re going to do it this time. We are,” I said firmly.

  “I’ve got it this time. I swear,” Daniel said through his teeth. ”I am going to catch you.”

  Right. Where had I heard that one before? Oh, yeah. The last twenty times we’d tried the chair sit. Unsuccessfully. I nodded, but inside I was all out of resolution. Daniel may have been nervous, but he had no idea what it was like to keep seeing the ground rushing up at me over and over and over again. To watch Sage laughing at me openly. To have my stomach swoop up above my heart so many times, I was pretty sure I’d never be able to process solid food again.

  Plus, Joe, who was supposed to be our extra spotter, had zoned out about ten minutes ago. Every once in a while he’d mutter something under his breath and I could have sworn I heard numbers in there. Was he doing math problems in his head to keep from falling asleep from boredom?

  “It’s okay. The first time is never easy,” Rincon said. “But I promise you, once you break this barrier, everything else is going to come much quicker. All you need is one successful stunt to get your confidence back.”

  “That sounds good,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder at Daniel. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

  “Definitely,” he replied with a hopeful smile and a determined nod.

  “Okay, get set,” Rincon said, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. He placed his hands under his biceps, which just made them bulge even bigger. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  I gripped Daniel’s wrists. He set his stance behind me. “Okay,” he said. “One, two!”

  I flew straight up into the air.

  Knee up, lock your arms. Concentrate . . . concentrate . . .

  I felt Daniel’s palm under my seat. All the blood in my body rushed to my face. I was up!

  And then I came sliding right back down. And my butt? Well, that hit Daniel’s face. My butt slid right over Daniel’s face! We’re talking nose to posterior here, people. Why, oh, why had I ever thought that this was going to be romantic?

  I mean, why not just strip me naked and throw me into center court in the middle of a pep rally?

  Joe put his hands out halfheartedly to catch me, but this had already happened ten million times and we all knew I didn’t need his help. I just landed right back down on my sore feet. My face had long since taken on a permanent red hue, so I couldn’t even blush in my embarrassment. I felt more like crying.

  Terrell and Sage groaned audibly. Like they were so totally bored. My scowl could have leveled cities. I’d like to see them get up here and try this.

  On second thought, maybe not. Because if they did it on the first try or something, that would be a humiliation from which I might never recover.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” Daniel said. I could hear the intense frustration in his voice. “I just . . . I’m afraid of hurting you.”

  “You’re not gonna hurt me,” I told him.

  Hello? My butt making contact with your nose is a lot more painful than any injury could ever be. So try catching me!

  “And besides, this is a sport. If I do get a little bruised, it comes with the territory.”

  “Yeah, dude. Ever worried if one of the linebackers you smacked into was gonna get black and blue?” Terrell asked from the cheap seats.

  “It’s a good point,” Rincon said. “It doesn’t totally apply, since Annisa is on your team and safety comes first. But if you’re worried about hurting her when you catch her, don’t. You are catching her on the most padded part of the body.”

  “Especially on her,” Sage said.

  Phoebe whacked her leg as I turned a nice shade of royal purple. Okay, so maybe I could still blush in embarrassment.

  “You two just need to lose the fear,” Rincon said, determined. “Daniel, you’re not going to hurt her. Annisa, you are not going to fall. Just visualize yourself doing it, and you’ll do it.”

  Yeah. Because I had magical powers. Just like the chicks on Charmed. In my spare time I also enjoyed morphing into other people, orbing to foreign lands and blowing things up with my hands.

  Visualize, I thought. Visualize . . .

  “We can do this, Daniel,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Pretend it’s not me. Pretend this is just a football drill or something. Coach won’t let you play this weekend unless you catch the girl.”

  Daniel smirked. “Got it.”

  “Okay, get set,” Rincon said.

  I turned around. I placed my hands on Daniel’s wrists.

  We can do it. We can do it. We can do it.

  I stared straight ahead. I was not coming down this time. I was not.

  “Okay.” Daniel’s voice had taken on a new, fearless tone. “One, two!”

  I flew up into the air. I felt Daniel’s hand under my bottom, but this time, he held on. Holy acrobatics, he held on! I threw my arms into the high V. Daniel’s other hand suddenly found my lower ankle and steadied me.

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  Phoebe, Jaimee, Steven, Sage, Terrell and Joe all whooped and hollered. The rest of the squad stopped what they were doing and I heard a couple of gasps of surprise when they saw me up there. Below me, Daniel was solid as a rock, and I was so high in the air, I was eye level with the upper bleachers.

  “Nice work!” Rincon said, clapping his hands. Coach Holmes jogged over and looked up at me, beaming with pride.

  “Nice work, you two!” she said.

  “Thanks,” I replied giddily.

  We had done it. We were on our way. Partner-stunting championships, here we come!

  “Okay, time to cradle out,” Rincon said.

  My heart slammed into my ribs. Oh, crap. Cradle out? From here? How? How the heck were we supposed to do that?

  I looked down uncertainly and felt Daniel’s arm waver. My butt tilted. I started to slide. Then everything happened in fast forward. I shouted in surprise, Daniel’s arm collapsed, I slid down his front, he caught my waist, I stepped on his foot, he doubled over, and we both went down in a tangle of limbs, taking Joe with us.

  Ow. That kind of hurt.

  Slowly, I rolled over, removing Daniel’s hand from my face. Wincing, I looked up at my coaches. They both had semi-blank expressions on as they stared down at the human pretzel.

  “Yeah. We’re gonna need a little more work then,” Coach Holmes said.

  Rincon nodded. “Yeah. Looks like.”

  Oops.

  6

  Okay, what do I need? What do I need . . . ?

  I stood at my locker before first period, staring into its light blue depths at the stack of books in the top portion, completely blanking on my morning classes. I had woken up in a fog that morning. After a late night standing in front of my full-length mirror practicing cheers and visualizing stunts, my sleep had been peppered with freaky nightmares with absolutely no foundation in anything (something to do with a duck-headed dog chasing me through a swamp into my grandmother’s house, where all my teachers from every school I’d ever been to were waiting to give me tests), and even after a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and a brisk walk to school (since I was late), I still could barely keep my eyes open. What did I have second period? What was I supposed to have done for it? Where on earth was my brain?

  To add injury to insult, my butt hurt. A lot. My tailbone throbbed so hard, it could have been a beacon trying to summon E.T. back to the home planet. But the good news was, Daniel and I had successfully mastered the chair sit and the cradle out. We’d done it perfectly at least a dozen times.

  At least I think we had. Was it possible I had dreamt all that too?

  “Okay, snap out of it, Annis
a. You have the whole day ahead of you,” I said to myself.

  I knew people were staring at me in slightly disturbed confusion as they made their way to their classes, but I couldn’t seem to wake myself up without talking to myself. I was already known all over school as a klutzy freak. Maybe now I would add space-case to my resume. Klutzy space-case freak. Had a certain ring to it.

  Mornings suck, I thought. Mornings totally suck.

  It was about the only coherent thought I could form.

  Suddenly my locker slammed closed before my eyes. I was startled, but I didn’t have the energy to flinch.

  “You are so gonna love me!” Daniel announced, planting a kiss on my lips.

  Well. That’ll wake you up.

  “Hey! Where were you this morning? I waited for like ten minutes,” he said. He was wearing this aqua blue T-shirt that totally brought out his eyes. I could get lost in those eyes. Especially on a morning like this. I just wanted to cuddle up against him and take a nap.

  Exciting, no?

  “Brain fog,” I told him flatly. “Do you know what I have second period?”

  Daniel’s adorable eyebrows came together. Yes, even his eyebrows are adorable. “Chemistry,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “Chemistry! Yes!” I said, working my lock again. “And after that it’s Spanish. Ah. It’s all coming back to me now.”

  “You’re a psycho, you know that?” Daniel said playfully, reaching out to tuck a wayward hair behind my ear.

  “I’m aware,” I replied. I popped open my locker and started rooting around for my chemistry book. “So why, exactly, am I going to love you?”

  Not that I don’t already, I added silently.

  His smile widened, sending my heart into a series of impressive flips. “I got your Christmas present,” he said. “And it is perfect.”

  “Oooh! What is it?” I asked, waking up even more now. Nothing like the promise of a boyfriendly gift to get the blood pumping. It was better than a direct shot of Red Bull. Of course I had already bought Daniel’s present a few weeks earlier. He was a huge classic rock fan and had recently gotten into the Rolling Stones, so I’d picked him up a Rolling Stones CD box set that I had raided half of my allowance savings to afford. But I hadn’t teased him once about it. Mostly because I knew if I started and he wheedled, I would probably blurt it out and ruin the surprise.

  “Can’t tell you!” he said, loving the torture a little too much.

  “Daniel!”

  “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he said with a shrug, walking away.

  I slammed my locker and chased after him. “Come on! No fair!” I whined. “Give me a hint!”

  At that moment, Christopher Healy, Bobby Goow and a couple of other guys from the football team came around the corner and nearly walked right into us. Christopher threw his hands up and backed away a few steps.

  “Pardon me, ladies,” he said pointedly, looking at Daniel. The other guys laughed and Daniel’s face fell.

  “Hey! It’s Mini-Chris!” one of the guys from the wrestling team said. “Or should I call you Mini-Christine?”

  “Shut up, loser,” Daniel said.

  “Oooooh. Don’t get your panties all in a twist now, li’l sis,” Christopher mocked, much to his friends’ glee. “Wouldn’t want you to throw a hissy fit right here in the hallway.”

  Ugh! What a Neanderthal jerk. What year was he born, anyway? 1945? Not that everyone was a sexist in 1945, but, you know, I’m guessing there were a few more then than there are today.

  I glanced at Daniel, willing him to formulate the perfect comeback, but he simply stood there, stock-still, his face growing blotchy and hot. No fair. One second he was happily teasing me and the next he was miserable. All thanks to his own brother. I would never understand boys. Why did they enjoy making each other unhappy?

  Oh, but wait. Girls did that too sometimes. Witness my first few weeks at school, being tortured by Tara Timothy.

  “So, what’re you two talking about? What to bring to the slumber party this weekend?” Lumberjack Bob asked, clasping his hands under his chin, all wide-eyed and breathless.

  “Bite me, Bobby,” Daniel replied.

  Okay, that was something. Maybe not the most inspired argument, but something.

  “Tough words coming from a cheerleader,” Bobby said, pitching his voice up an octave on the final word. “What’re you gonna do next, high-kick me to death?”

  Daniel looked mortified and miserable. I wondered why he stood there and took it. Why he didn’t just walk away.

  “Hey, bro, when do you get fitted for your miniskirt?” Christopher asked, smirking. “That’s gonna be a proud moment for the family. I’m thinking I’ll take some pictures to bring home to Dad.”

  All right. That was it.

  “Leave him alone,” I said.

  Instantly all the guys looked at me. It was as if they had forgotten I was even there, but now that they remembered, the mirth was universal. “Oooh! The little girl’s defending the little girl!”

  “Little girl? Do you know how much guts it took for him to go in there and try out for the squad? Only a real man could do something like that,” I said. “I know you couldn’t,” I added, looking Christopher up and down.

  His eyes darkened and he stepped toward me. “Yeah, Annisa. He’s a real man,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “You just keep telling yourself that when you guys are baking cookies together on your next date.”

  With that, the guys all cracked up and moved off, trailing one after the other past me so they could each have a chance to sneer in my face. I couldn’t believe it. How could people be so immature and closed-minded? Was this not the twenty-first century we were living in?

  “I don’t know how you live with that guy,” I said, turning to Daniel.

  Instantly, the earth dropped out from underneath my feet. Daniel’s eyes were full of humiliated anger and they were focused on me. Not his brother and his band of witless wonders, but me.

  “Daniel?”

  “What the hell was that?” he blurted. “Do you have any idea how much crap I’m gonna take for that?”

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out other than a strained “I . . .”

  “I can’t have a girl defending my honor, Annisa! Especially not now!”

  Oh, God. Oops. I’d broken the guy code. See? This was what happened when I was around. Stupid mouth. Had a mind of its own.

  “I . . . I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Dammit,” Daniel said under his breath.

  I didn’t know what to say. I hated that I had put that expression on his face. Well, helped put it there.

  “Daniel, I’m really sorry,” I said. “I told you . . . brain fog. I’m not thinking straight this morning.”

  Daniel sighed and looked at his feet. I was feeling kind of wistful for the playful banter of five minutes ago.