“We had to move on, Eleanor. I am so sorry for what your family is going through, but I had to look out for the team. You’ll still be an alternate, but we have to be ready for regionals.” These are the only words I can make out for certain from the cheer coach, and a slight shift in my position reveals a familiar expression on Eleanor’s face. It’s the brave one she puts on when she’s trying not to let everything out. It’s like a cork holding back a hurricane. Her lips work to maintain an understanding smile as she nods, but it’s her feet and hands that tell the truth. Her legs step side-to-side, her hands scrunched in her uniform. Puffs of fog accent her breath coming from her nose as she repeats the same words, over and over again.
“Of course.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“I will, and thank you.”
She was replaced. Her senior year, her defining moment, and her passion. Those words she is uttering, they are all lies. My chest burns for her.
I stay in the shadows, even after her coach leaves her to find her way to the chairs to sit alone and watch her squad—the one she captained—do their routine without her. She keeps that smile locked in place and holds back the tears, though I can see them as they hover on the precipice, waiting to fall like daggers toward her neck and chest. She claps to the music, counting along with her teammates as if she’s out on the field with them doing the same flips and tricks.
When their performance ends, she stands and clasps her hands behind her back, one holding the other so tight the blood squeezes to the surface of her skin.
I dash from my spot before she notices me, grabbing myself a semi-warm pretzel and a Coke from the snack bar before heading back to the bleachers. My area is no longer open, so I hover on the steps for a few seconds before deciding to join Jake and the other seniors in the middle of the student section. I’d rather rub shoulders with people I know.
“You get lonely down there?” Jake asks.
“Something like that,” I answer, knowing he’s not really looking for one. I offer him part of my pretzel and he rips off one of the loops. I don’t really even want it.
The conversations around me carry on amid these worlds where nothing has changed. At least two of Jake’s friends comment how hot Elle is and how the new cheer uniforms are shorter than the old ones. Not one of them sees how her smile no longer reaches her eyes. I bet they don’t even notice she isn’t at the top of the pyramid where she belongs. For them, Eleanor was on vacation. Now she’s back, and all is right in their world. Meanwhile, hers is burning to the ground.
“You’re quiet.” Jake pushes into my side, and I give him a sideways glance.
“I’m always quiet,” I mumble, pulling another bite of my pretzel free and stuffing it into my mouth for a better excuse. “I’m eating.”
“Bullshit. The food here is shitty. What’s going on?” His attention is only half on me. I can tell because he keeps turning to his other side to join in with the laughter. I don’t tell him this is why I hate coming to these things, because Jake loves stuff like this. When I’m here, I feel like his sad, pathetic pet that needs tending to. I’d be perfectly happy having him give me a place to sit and then ignore me, but that wouldn’t feel right to him. Jake is actually a kind person who tries to do right by people despite his sordid dating history. He wouldn’t feel right ignoring me, and I wouldn’t feel right telling him to.
“They didn’t let Eleanor do the routine. I hope she’s okay, is all.” As soon as I finish my sentence I know Jake didn’t fully hear it.
“Oh, you think? Wait, what was that?” He shifts to give me his total attention, but with the extra seconds of thought, I decide it’s better for Eleanor if I don’t make her worries known to anyone else.
“I just thought our team was better than this. That’s all,” I lie. It’s a half-lie, actually, because I did expect us to score.
“Oh, yeah. I should have warned you. We’ve gotten worse since the last game I dragged you to. I hear they might fire the coach.”
“Like that will make a difference,” one of his friends snarks, leaning over Jake’s shoulder.
“I know, right?” Jake answers, clasping hands with his friend in some sort of bro agreement. I tuck the straw from my drink into my lips and suck in a huge gulp. At least the soda isn’t flat. The burn of carbonation is a pleasant distraction and I let my eyes water, thankful for the way it scratches against my throat.
I stick with Jake and his friends for the second half, and I only catch Eleanor looking for me once. I do my best to stand and raise a hand to help her find me, but her search is short. In a way, she seems relieved that I’m not there to witness her not shine. Thing is, though, she is shining. Simply being here and breaking through the heavy boulders tied to her spirit is a massive achievement. But no teenager wants to hear high level psychology like that when their world seems to be slipping away.
I don’t stand again until the end of the game when our team actually scores. It’s only because the other team’s third string is in, but still, a touchdown means we aren’t completely shut out, and that is cause for celebration on the Badger side of the field.
I slink out with the thick crowd, tagging along behind Jake
