Lisa worked with me the rest of the afternoon. We talked mainly. After a couple of week of virtual silence, it was a relief to be able to talk to someone.

Lisa is a junior. She joined the team in her sophomore year. She too was caught unprepared for how grueling it would be when she first joined the squad. In time, with the help of some of her teammates, she was able to improve her stamina and her form. It also had the wonderful side effect of slimming her down and helping to keep her healthy.

“So why did you join in the first place?” I asked genuinely curious as to why anyone would voluntarily put themselves through all this.

Lisa began, “I wasn't very outgoing as a freshman. Going from junior high to high school it’s easy to get lost in all of it. My parents had moved us here when the economy took a nose dive. My Dad lost his job first, then my Mom lost hers. We’re living with my aunt, hoping my parents can make enough money to get us back on our feet. So being the new girl, I didn’t have many friends.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you would join the squad.”

“Cindy, you met her earlier. We joined the squad together. She was nervous and wanted someone to go with her to tryouts. We knew each other, but we weren’t all that close. We had a couple of classes together and sat at the same lunch table when one of the cheerleaders came to us at our table and encouraged us both to tryout. Cindy mentioned something about not wanting to tryout alone and so I told her I would go with her. When we both made the squad we were so excited.”

“Joining the squad, I instantly had a whole new group of friends. It was something that I never had before. When I saw you during practice today, I noticed something. I got the sense that you might be feeling, that you could be more than just some placeholder.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were trying. I mean really trying. Like you needed to be here. Part of the team I mean.”

“Aren't I supposed to be?”

“You seemed genuinely disappointed when you messed up and happy when you were able to keep up with the group. There was almost a sense of pride in you when you followed the routine without a mistake. It was something like you telling yourself, ‘I can do this.’ I’ve seen that look from girls on the squad when they settle in; finally seeing that all their hard work has paid off. It seemed like you’ve never had that feeling before.”

I stood there trying to work through what Lisa was telling me.

“I’m right, aren't I? You don’t have to answer me. Just think about this. If your sister came back tomorrow. Would it be a relief or would it make you sad?”

I was dumbfounded. I didn’t want to answer. I opened my mouth to throw out an answer. Lisa just held a hand up to my mouth. “That’s an answer for you, not me. How about we meet here tomorrow, 8:00 AM, and go for a run?” I nod my head, and she lowers her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I walked home, I had a chance to pour through everything Lisa said to me. While I was sure that I would leave the squad when Amber returned, that’s not what Lisa asked. She was asking how I felt about leaving the squad. Earlier, she said something about giving the girls a reason not to hate me. I realized that part of my isolation, I imposed on myself. I could have approached the girls when they went on break or when they gathered for lunch today. Something stopped me. Whose feelings was I trying to protect? Mine or theirs?

I gave them every reason to feel hostile towards me and no reason for them to let their guard down around me. I knew what I had to do Monday. I knew it wouldn’t fix everything magically, but it would be a start.

Talking things over with Lisa on our Sunday morning run helped a lot. She’s really insightful, and I’d dare to say, my first real friend since Taylor abandoned me. She was warm, caring, and she can run circles around me.

Monday at lunch, Lisa and I went over to meet with Coach Tompkins. She was happy to see Lisa, probably thinking that Lisa had changed her mind. Coach Tompkins eyed me suspiciously when I told her what I wanted to do. I think she was trying to see if I had an ulterior motive, but she agreed. I thanked Lisa for her support, and we parted ways afterward.

I arrived at practice, and we were all in formation, ready to start. Coach Tompkins says to the group that I wanted to say something. I nervously walked up to the front, and Coach Tompkins gave way. I’m standing in front of my seven squadmates their eye burning a hole through me. I had never done anything like this, and my nerves were at their limits.

“I… I wanted to apologize for the prank.” I began. Some of the squad looked on suspiciously. “It was stupid and selfish and… I’m really sorry I did it.” The squad stood there silently. “I know that I’m here temporarily and you all may be thinking I don’t deserve to be here. And you're right.” I saw a few surprised looks, others tried to keep their face stern. “You all had to tryout, go through the scrutiny and all the work to be accepted by each other as teammates. I didn't do that. I came into this squad without being tested or even having to endure the nerves of not making the squad.” I take a breath. “I now see why this is important to all of you—why it’s become important to me.” I begin to choke up. “I’m not hoping that you’ll accept me from what I’m saying, I’m just hoping that you’d accept my apology.” I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. “I hope that in time, I can earn your trust and your friendship even after my sister returns.” Tears are falling from my eyes as I stand there. “I won’t promise anything, I know I have to show my commitment to the team and not just say it…” I was about to say more, but I couldn’t. Coach Tompkins walks over to me, puts her hand on my back and gives me a compassionate rub, as I drop my head. She ushers me back to my spot and asks if I wanted to continue with the practice. I nod my head, wipe my tears, and we begin.

At the break, the girls congregate while I again set myself apart from them. A few of them are throw look in my direction unsure of what to make of my apology and my plea. Ellie comes over again. She must be their emissary. She has two bottles of water with her. She hands me one and opens the other and begins to take a sip. “How is Amber doing?”

Her question surprises me. That she’s talking to me, surprises me. “Her condition hasn’t changed. My folks are taking turns just being with her.” Her face casts a bit down.

“What you said earlier. I’m not sure any of us has any reason to believe what you are saying. But that you said it—at least helps.” She takes another sip of her water bottle. “Most of us aren’t pleased with you on the squad, you hurt one of us. The fact that you did it to your own sister makes us weary about trusting you.”

“I’m not sure what I can do to make it up to all of you.”

“You can’t… Make it up to us that is… You can only move forward and help us.” She says looking back over at the squad. “We’ve got the fundraiser this weekend. I hope you’ll be there. We’re washing cars at the self-service car wash. The owner lets us take over the car wash and provides us with tokens to put into the machines. We charge per car and wash people’s cars for them. It helps pays for our uniforms and the funds we need for the competition. We have a lot of fun, and we do it once a month. I can have my mom pick you up if you need a ride? Your house is on the way there. We used to pick up Amber during the summer, so I don’t think it should be a problem picking you up.

“I thought you all hated me?”

“Well like I said most of us aren’t pleased you are on the squad. But you are here, and well we need all the help we can get. I don't expect everyone to warm up to you all at once, maybe not for a long time. It would go a long way in showing that you are serious about helping us and that you are sorry. I’m Elenor by the way. Ellie for short. Amber and I made the squad together last spring.”

“I’m Aaron.” I was about to say more when Coach Tompkins calls us back into formation. We continue with the afternoon drills. I’m slowly getting the hang of the routines. We’re working with yells instead of counts. I assume practicing for the first football game in two weeks. Amber’s spot in the formation is in front off to the right. Like me, she’s short, though she has about an inch in height over me. The rest of the girls are a bit taller than her. That’s why she’s one of the two girls that let hoisted in the air. Ellie is the other.

Midway through the second hour, Coach Tompkins has Coach Reed working with Ellie and me. She has a series of cones about 30 feet apart. We’re at opposite ends, and she has us run toward each other. We're on opposite sides of the row of cones. The cones are there to have us judge our speed as we run towards each other. I'm supposed to reach the first cone when she reaches her first cone. We meet in the middle. Then ultimately reach the cone at the respective far ends at the same time. We do that about a dozen times.

Coach Reed then says to start a Cartwheel after we reach the first cone. She asks us to try to keep our line, so we don’t crash into each other. My first pass I strayed away from my line thinking I might tumble into her. Ellie for her part stays on her line. We begin to repeat the exercise a few more times, and I’m exhausted and a bit lightheaded. Coach Reed catches me on my last pass and holds me steady.

Ellie is none the worse for wear and looks on with concern. I’m starting to see the reason for taking the cones in one by one well that and why Coach Tompkins was timing each trip.

Coach Reed walks me over to the cooler where I’m sitting down. I look up, and Ellie is back there at the cones practicing the tumbling run again. I look on in disbelief. Coach Reed sees my face as I try to stand. “No hun, you’ve had enough. We’ll try some more tomorrow.” She pushes me back down on the impromptu bench. “She’s had all summer to get in shape and practice. You’ve had two weeks.” Ellie takes a few more tumbling runs and walks back over to Coach Reed. “That was great work Ellie. Aaron, you did well today too. If we can get you two in sync, we may have something for competition. Assuming Aaron here can master some of the more difficult tumbling passes.”

“Competition?” I asked.

“Don’t look so surprised. With your frame, balance and coordination. We may be able to use you in the competition.”

“What about Amber?” I ask wondering where this is leading. “Would she still be on the squad? I mean I don’t want to be the one to actually take her spot.”

“If she’s well enough to compete and she can get up to speed quickly enough we can have her as an alternate.”

“That would devastate her! I can’t bump her, I’m sure she would already be mad at me for her being injured in the first place.”

“Aaron, I have to work with who I have. You’re healthy, petite, and have as much promise as Ellie here. Amber does too, but I don’t have the luxury waiting, and I have to have someone to work opposite of Ellie. I know you feel bad about what you did to Amber. She’s still on the team because you’re here. That will have to be enough for now.”

Ellie watches on with concern for me and for Amber's standing in the squad.

“Believe me, I would love to have a team with all three of you.” Coach Reed says looking over at the two of us. Why don’t the two of you call it a day and head home? I look over at where the rest of the girls were only to find an empty field. That had all gone back to the locker room.

Ellie pulls a bottle of water out of the cooler. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure I’ll see you tomorrow Ellie.” She turns and walks towards the locker room. “Ellie?” I get her attention. She still has the bottle to her lips. “Thanks… for… Thanks for reaching out.”

She caps the bottle and smiles at me. “Work on those sprints with Lisa. She’s great! Oh and you’re welcome.”

Coach Reed looks at me. “You're working with Lisa?” I nod. An almost giddy look comes over her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Aaron.” She collects the cones and walks back to the office.

The walk home feels less… less bad. One thing worries me. As much as the prospect of me being part of the squad excites me. The thought that I might bump Amber doesn’t sit well.