Confessions of a Wannabe Cheerleader

by Zoe Evans

  I hate it when the Titans get all snotty like that. I mean, the Grizzly Bears are cheerleaders too! Ok, so we’re kind of at the bottom of the cheerleading food chain. We don’t, you know, walk down the hall strutting our killer abs and supershort skirts. And until just recently, we were living in uniforms from, like, twenty years ago. Gross! We’re not friends with the football jocks (so annoying) and we don’t have prime real estate in the cafeteria (Ha! We’re lucky if we have a table at all). See map of caf.

  Some might say we don’t do or have those things because we are, like, so ABOVE that. Really? We don’t because we can’t. We’re the B-team. The Grizzlies were formed because the school felt that no one should be turned away from wanting to participate in school-spirit-related activities. Anyone who doesn’t make the cut for Titan tryouts automatically gets to be on the Grizzly squad. Hooray! So that’s where we come in: We are the voice of the uncoordinated. We also come in handy when the Titans are so busy competing to get to Nationals that they can’t cheer at our school’s games. I mean, who else would cheer for debate team, chess club, or math league?

  But still, there’s no need for people like Hilary to rub it in our faces.

  I’m far from uncoordinated, but I know I’m not quite Nationals material. Still I’m a way better cheerleader than anyone on my team (except for Jacqui, obvs, but she WAS a Titan once, after all). My ultimate dream is to be a Titan. I just keep hoping that if I practice harder, learn the Titans’ killer choreography, and hit every stunt, I’ll be good enough to wear one of the uniforms I worked so hard designing for their squad.

  It would be nice if I had more time to work on my clothing designs, though. Sometimes it feels sort of like an obsession. When I’m not sketching out new stunts for my team in this here journal, I’m pretty much designing clothes (and cheer outfits).

  “So, what’s with the boxes?” asked Clementine, Triumvirate Member #2. “Make it quick. We’re bugging out.” (Ugh. Being on Clementine’s bad side is never a good idea. Ever. She can cut you with just one nasty look, seriously. Once, she looked at a seventh grader funny and the girl broke out in hives!! For realz.)

  I explained that I was about to present her and her team with new uniforms. Of course this got Clementine’s attention. (Anything having to do with Clementine usually does.) She knelt down beside the box I’d opened to grab one of the plastic—wrapped uniforms.

  “Huh, this doesn’t look like a disaster,” she said, checking out the skirt appreciatively. This was a high compliment coming from Clementine. She smoothed the skirt against her spray—tanned legs. “Ooh, and it’s short, too!”

  I could just see her thinking about how great it will look on her when she prances down the halls of Port Angeles (as if she needs MORE guys looking in her direction).

  “These are amazing!” squealed Katie, holding a uniform out in front of her. “OMG, Madison. Loves!”

  She was literally smiling from ear to ear. Jacqui gave me a little wink.

  “Awesome. Glad you guys like ’em,” I said.

  T.G. I’m BEYOND relieved. I mean, can you even imagine what would’ve happened if she’d, like, hated them? I couldn’t mess up AGAIN!! Not with my future team captain (fingers crossed! ). Also, Katie and I have become more friendly just recently. I bet if I hadn’t made these uniforms look perfect, she would’ve gone right back to ignoring me. No, thank you!