Mrs. O’Reilly asked about our day.
“Rough,” I said. “And I only have a few friends in my classes. Again.”
“It sucked, Mom. It’s school,” said Pete.
“Don’t use that word, honey. You know I don’t like it.” She lit up a Marlboro Light. “Didn’t you like any of your subjects?”
He gave her an unrepentant smile. “Gym.”
“I think I’m going to like psychology. And get what the teacher’s name is—Mr. Downey. Isn’t that funny?”
“I had a Mr. Moler for a dentist once,” remembered Mrs. O’Reilly. “Are you interested in psychology?”
“Learning about people is interesting. Maybe it will explain why Pete acts the way he does.” I smiled at him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m starving. What do we have to eat?”
His mother nodded towards the refrigerator. “You know where to look. There are plenty of snacks. Best of luck with your class, Anna. Do tell me if you discover the secret to men or brooding teenagers. We’re all dying to understand them.”
We shared a laugh while Pete muttered something unintelligible.
Pete drove me home. When he pulled up to my house, I clung to him, reluctant to get out of the car.
“Hey, you, what’s wrong?”
“I miss summer,” I said, my voice muffled by his shirt. “Everything’s changed.”
“We’re back in Skyline Hell for another year, but what else do you mean?”
“I’m worried we’re not going to have any time together. We don’t have lunch at the same time, and you’re going to have practice every day, and I’m going to be cheering at football games…”
“We’re going to be fine. Stop getting worked up.”
I nodded but didn’t believe him. “It was hard today with Katy and Michelle. Not that I blame how they treated me after the terrible friend I’ve been.”
Pete lifted my face and stared into my eyes. “It’s not your fault. I sidetracked you a little.”
I smiled. “Just a little.”
“They’ll come around if they really are your friends.”
“That’s the thing. They’ve been my best friends for years, and they ignored me today. Plus they’ve changed. Did you see them?”
“They were looking a little slutsville.”
I nodded in agreement. “It tripped me out.”
“Aren’t you just the mother hen?” Pete laughed and pulled me closer.
“And you’re the fox in the henhouse—the only one I really need to worry about!”
“That’s right.” Pete sank his lips into my neck and pretended to take a bite.
I shrieked and jerked away. He flashed me a grin.
I kissed him and got out of the car. “See you tomorrow, handsome.”
“You bet.”
Seconds later, he gunned it down the street.
Today sucked. It was the worst first day of school I can remember. The only highlight was seeing Pete and my friends. Correction: my new friends. Katy and Michelle treated me like I had the plague. Everything feels different this year. And I can’t fathom how much longer I have to live at home with a crazy father and a mother who says inane things. They are both incredibly uncool. College sounds better every minute. Especially one far away. Except...Pete. I don’t want to be separated from him! And I desperately need a car. Like that’s going to ever happen. My parents are hella tight when it comes to that. But I might kill myself if forced to ride the bus all year. And that would be tragic, wouldn’t it?
§§
The cheerleading squad gathered after school. As leader of our spirit gang, the experienced Mac reviewed our roles at the upcoming football game on Friday. It would be our first time cheering and most of the student body would be in attendance, along with parents, faculty and residents. Whenever I thought about it, my heart palpitated and my underarms perspired.
“Who wants to lead one of the long cheers?” asked Mac.
“I do!” Cathy said.
“Me, too!” Pam said.
“Excellent. I’ll take us through the rest, but when it’s your turn, come right to the front where I stand and lead the cheer from there. Pick the routines you want to do.”
Relief flooded me as the girls discussed and finalized their options. No thank you, no can do. I didn’t want to guide any cheers—it would be way too nerve-wracking.
As if reading my thoughts, Mac said, “You guys are probably going to feel tense since it’s your first time, but just remember your moves, be loud and show your enthusiasm. Our job is to get the crowd cheering and support our guys on the field.”
Amy squealed. “This is going to be so much fun!”
I couldn’t argue. Despite my apprehension, the excitement was palpable.
Friday arrived like a speeding bullet, and I swallowed my jitters— again—as I tied my red and white Nikes and double-checked my uniform. My white skirt with the red trim fell to mid-thigh. I straightened my cropped white turtleneck with the red-striped sleeves and centered the Titans emblem plastered on my chest, which even included my embroidered name. Mac did my hair, pumping hair spray onto my long locks and giving it volume.
Breathe.
Mac interrupted my futile attempt at calm. “Let’s go girls. It’s time!”
She organized us into one line, in the correct formation for our corresponding cheerleading blocks. Thank God I wasn’t first. I jogged the way we were taught at camp, nearly kicking my behind with my heels. The bleachers came into view. Hundreds of people packed the seats, their roar mixing with the marching band’s battle cry. My butterflies flapped their wings faster, and my throat went dry.
Mac waved at the crowd with unbridled enthusiasm, and we followed suit, performing jumps and tumbling moves to show our spirit. She motioned us to get the rolled-up banner we decorated earlier, and we ran with her to the end zone.
Minutes
