Amber
Ready, steady, go!
I've heard those words so many times they've practically lost all meaning. But then again, I'm always ready and always steady. They're requirements for an Atherton cheerleader, and that goes quintuple for an Atherton cheerleader with aspirations of getting a captain's C on her sweater. [...]
I crushed it at cheer camp this summer. [...]
I'm one of the only two cheerleaders (the other being my best friend, Cara) who's been on varsity since freshman year, and still I've watched videos of the routines at least once a day on my (refurbished, shhh) iPhone.
It's my first day as an official junior, the year everyone will be scrutinizing me to see if I have what it takes to be captain next year, and this feels like a test I've been studying for my entire life. (Honestly, the only one, some weeks.) Especially because, according to Crystal, she's got big news.
I instinctively double-check every inch of my body to make sure I'm in compliance with the squad's No Jewelry rules, even though I know I have practice prep down to a science, and yank my long chestnut ponytail extra tight.
A quick glance in the mirror reveals that I look like a flatter version of brunette Cheerleader Barbie, and that's exactly how it should be. [...]
“So, what's happening?” Sara Copeley asks, because the girl has the patience of a mosquito.
“Sundstrom found a new quarterback at football camp.” Crystal smiles, her pride at having the scoop before anyone else glaringly obvious. “From Butler. He starts today.”
The entire room erupts.
“Is he hot?”
“Is he single?”
“What's his name?”
I let the voices wash over me as I pick at my laces. New guys don't exactly get me excited any more than old ones, if you know what I mean. Even if I was interested, the quarterback is automatically the captain's domain; the other girls only have a chance if Crystal decides she doesn't want him. And Crystal's been single [...] ever since her boyfriend moved up to Virginia for college, so if the new guy is even a little hot, it's hands-off for the rest of us.
Besides, this is about more than just a guy – this is a whole shifting dynamic. How's it gonna work, having someone new? How's someone gonna join without having sweated it out with Matt Devlin, Dan Sanchez, and the rest of them all summer? And how [...] is this the first I'm hearing about it? What's the point of having a boyfriend on the football team if he's not gonna pass along insider info?
Okay, so Miguel Santiago isn't exactly my real boyfriend, but he's still in big trouble.
“His name is Jack Walsh. Isn't that cute?” says Crystal, and the other girls agree that it is. “Anyway, that's all the info I have for now; the team's been really tight-lipped about it. But this is where y'all come in. We've gotta do up Jack's locker just like we did the rest of them. Official Atherton welcome. Even if we don't have time to make cookies at home. Let's just split up and do what we can to make sure Jack Walsh is very happy here.”
So, this is how I get to prove myself today – not with my splits or lifts or even my lungs, but with my impeccable puffy paint skills. No problem. My puffy paint skills are second to none. Whatever my squad needs.
Gooooo Alligators! [...]
“Good morning, class.” I whip around as Mr. Thompson drops his bag on his desk, the bell ringing. “Welcome back to Atherton. I trust y'all had wonderful summers during which you read and loved The Good Earth. Now, let's see who I'm dealing with here. Aronson, Peter?”
“Yo,” Pete calls from behind me.
“Barrett, Austin?”
“Heyo.”
“Bates, Aisha?” [...]
“And finally, Walsh, Jaclyn?”
“Jack, please.”
Mr. Thompson says something in response, but I can't hear it over the sound of gears turning in my head, loud static in my ears.
Jack Walsh. The new quarterback. Is a girl.