The Bliss

 
Chapter 1
“Cry Baby”

We get to know the youngest offspring of the all-yogi family – Ananda, Andy for friends and family. In this chapter he tried out for the track and field team but ended up as a cheerleader flyer. And he was happy about it, at least to the end of the summer.

This story is in three parts, it's completed and chapters will be posted once a week.
My thanks to Amanda Lynn for proofreading and helpful suggestions.
This is a work of adult fiction so that's a caution that covers everything. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.

 

I was about to graduate from Mahoney Middle school, only ten days were left. Next was High school and that was South Portland High. My older brother, by two years, Rami was already attending the same school.

Some athletic teams of South Portland High were about to practice during summer. Tryouts for those teams were arranged before the summer break.

My friend Al and I took a bus to our new school after classes. It was only four bus stops. Al wanted to get onto the football team, basketball team or both. He liked everything ball related. He constantly tried to engage me in his interest in ball games too. No such luck. After four years I still didn’t understand the rules of them. I was more into gymnastics and yoga. By the way, my parents and my bro were yogis. Mom and Dad both had their studios in Downtown Portland. I was named Ananda like a real yogi, which means bliss. We kept our hair long in a tight bun on head’s top what was a part of being real yogi too, something like in a story about Samson.

I wanted gymnastics because I was probably the best gymnast at my old school. My bro Rami had said there was gymnastics team in South Portland High too. The boys’ coach said that “No money” thing worked and they didn’t have a gymnastics team anymore. In my school, I was a good runner also, so I tried for track and field. My running time wasn’t good for the coach’s satisfaction, despite my friend Al's cheering me on. Then the coach offered cheerleading.

“Isn’t that for girls?” I complained. The coach wasn’t the first one to mistake me for a girl. I didn’t want them to feel embarrassed so I usually didn’t correct them. My Dad said ‘Everything is an illusion to keep our real selves in disguise.’ His illusion was male like the one on his ID.

“The squad is co-ed,” the coach said. “There are three senior boys here and they are jocks like your friend,” he added indicating Al.

I liked watching cheerleaders when I was at plays with my bro Rami or my friend Al. Especially I liked stunts and I knew names of them. The dancing squad was interesting to watch too but not so fascinating as pyramids. So I tried and passed together with the other four boys and two girls. I was given a slip for my parents to sign. The coach said to come back tomorrow so I could be measured for my uniform. The coach said I’d be a flyer while the girls Lucille and Sheila were assigned as support. Both girls were tall at almost half a foot over me and Lucille was stocky. The boys were too big for flyers but they were good for pyramids. I thought they had come for a try out because of some bet or dare. They simply didn’t seem serious about this entire cheerleading thing.

Al was about to try out for football. For some unknown reason, football tryouts were canceled. The coach said they will call boys when all three coaches and the team captain will be ready. So Al wasn’t still sure if he would make a team or not.

 

 

I gave the slip for my dad to sign the same day. Our parents signed everything without reading it. It was part of being in a yogi’s family.

“Isn’t it too early for a report card?” Dad asked.

“It’s permission to join the cheerleader squad,” I replied.

“Are you going as a girl?”

“DAAAAD!!!”

“You’d look cute with pompons in that skimpy dress,” he said with a smirk.

“DAAAAD!!!”

“Their uniform is a tee shirt and shorts,” Rami explained, “and the squad is co-ed. Their spotters… I look like ballerina beside them.”

“I’ll be the stunt’s flyer and not the dancer,” I added.

“The flyer’s the one that on the top?” Dad asked. Rami and I nodded in agreement.

“And you’ll be the one tossed, thrown and caught?” We nodded again. “What about the dangling bits?”

“DAAAAD!!!”

“This time I’m serious Andy,” Dad complained. “Those bits could be damaged seriously if not positioned properly.”

“Uh… I have that garment I’d used for Mom’s classes.” That was the thingy that kept my willy tight between my legs while jewels were somehow kept inside me.

“The gaff?”

“Uh-huh.”

I was using the gaff for Mom’s classes such as dancing and deportment. I was Mom’s exemplary student to show others how one or another thing has to be performed properly. Mom’s students were only girls. Don’t ask me why I don’t know. Mom's classes were good both for girls and boys and eventually for adults too. Anyway, only girls were attending. Mom thought my visible bulge would be a distraction for girls so I was wearing the gaff to hide it.

 

 

The next day, after my classes were over, I went to my new school. The coach Ms. Nors measured Lucille, Sheila and I in her office and said she had uniforms in our sizes. After we changed I was confused a little. Lucille and Sheila’s shorts were really long, almost to their knees, and their tees were loose. My shorts were short shorts, and my tee was tightly clinging to my chest. I had to tug it constantly down to cover my midriff.

“Isn’t this a bit too girly for me to wear while Lucille and Sheila get the really loose uniforms?” I pointed this out to the coach.

“It’s because you are the special one – the flyer. There are only two other girls that are flyers, like you,” Ms. Nors said. “Cheerleading is teamwork, but flyers are on display. You’ll be on top while Sheila and Lucille and the other two girls will support you.”

“Don’t boys fit better for support?” I thought to be in the same stunt with boys was more appropriate for me.

“We have only two for support and one for the back spot for all stunts,” the coach replied. Apparently, Terry and Chris were supporting other flyers. Sean was what Ms. Nors called the back spot. He was standing behind all pyramids. His task was to supervise everyone and to jump to help in case of an emergency. He was calling each stunt too.

My weight was at least ten pounds less than of any other flyer so maybe it was reasonable for girls to lift me. Another two girls that were assigned to the new stunt were Cathy and Sue. Sue was the one who was holding me. She was the main base. Sheila was at her side and was helping me to climb up while Lucille was pushing me from behind. Cathy was standing in front of the pyramid and she was ready to catch me if I was about to fall to the front. When I was already on the top Cathy was supporting Sue’s wrist helping to keep me well balanced.

Dad was oh so right. I was grabbed so many times at my groin that without gaff my boys’ bits would be already torn off. The whole day was spent practicing lifting to prep-height, that’s my foot at the level of Sue’s chin. It may seem very simple from aside, but I was exhausted two hours later of constant climbing up and jumping down. When Ms. Nors announced the end of today’s practice Chris said to me “Let’s show the class rookie!” He pushed me up like I was a feather. When I was already on the prep level, on his palms, he simply tossed me up and raised his hands so I was on the extended level.

“On the right! Ready, one, two,” commanded Sean. I put all my weight on the right foot. Terry now was at Chris’s side and was holding my heel.

“Scorpion,” commanded Sean, “ready, one, two, three, four…”

As Sean was counting I raised my left leg to the back bending it at the knee and grabbing my foot with my left hand. Then I started to lift my left foot up till it was above my head.

“Needle! Ready, five, six,” was the next command. I straightened my left leg raising my foot even higher holding it with both hands now.

“Basket toss! Ready, one two,” at least it was the command to take me down. Girls were clapping and cheering.

“Outstanding!” Ms. Nors exclaimed, “But no more stunts without my permission. Understood?”

“Sorry Ms. Nors,” Sean apologized as other boys nodded their heads in agreement, “but it was worth to see it. I personally expected it to be over at the extended level.”

“Thank you, everyone, guys,” Ms. Nors said, “the practice is over. Till the next time.”

“Bye, bye,” boys said and waived their hands to us, “you two other rookies want to go with us to weight room?”

Girls were exhausted. They probably were afraid to go to that sanctuary of masculinity – weight room. Anyway, I didn’t wait for them and ran quickly to change.

My suspicion was right. Those other four boys didn’t show up. I was alone to shower and change back into street clothes. A minor problem was my loosened bun that wasn’t tight enough to stay through all jumps and tosses. I fixed my hair into a low ponytail and put the loose end under my shirt.

 

 

After the practice, I went to Al’s home. The term was coming to the end at our old school so neither I nor Al had anything to do. We usually were strolling in the nearby Hinckley Park, or we were staying at his place. There was no TV at my home. Actually, there was a display but it wasn’t connected or something. Al couldn’t stay at a home where was no working TV. We were friends since fifth grade when our parents moved to new homes. There were no more kids our age so we spent a lot of time together and became inseparable. I had an older bro Rami and Al had an older sis Terry. Terry was beautiful. She was eighteen, now, and she had conceived two years ago while a junior. Yeah… she was really gorgeous. So, Al was the uncle of a cute niece, Cassie.

I found Al with Cassie when I got to his home.

“Oh, it’s good you’ve come, my coach called, tryouts will start in twenty minutes.” Al gushed in excitement omitting politeness.

“Fine! I’ll come with you for support,” his excitement was really contagious.

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“You have to stay with Cassie. We can’t both go and leave her alone.”

“What about Terry?” I asked.

“She’s in the library and I’m babysitting Cassie for her. She’ll come home as soon as she can” Al explained.

“But…”

“I’m sure you’ll be ok,” Al exclaimed. “Hey, I really need to get to those tryouts. Do this for me, please…”

Those were not puppy dog eyes but I knew how important football was for Al. “Well then…”

“Thanks, Andy. I owe you big.”

And he went or rather ran out.

I was alone at Al's home… Sorry, I wasn't alone. I was with Cassie. First, it was intuition and then other senses joined that something was wrong with Cassie. Great, I’d never seen Terry change her even once and I’d only seen diaper ads while watching TV with Al. That wasn’t bad, that wasn’t good either. It’s probably a great pleasure to pee into a freshly changed diaper. I could tell that Cassie was peeing immediately after I’d changed her so I had to change her again.

I expected Cassie to be asleep until Terry got back, no such luck. Pacifier didn’t help. She probably wanted to eat, but I didn’t know how and what to feed her. I’d looked in the fridge but there was nothing that I could assume as food for a baby.

The only thing that helped was to carry her in my arms. She was sleepy but not asleep. I was tired shortly so I sat on the couch and immediately Cassie was awake. I started to rock her in my arms. Then I thought that maybe some lullaby would be good, but I didn’t know any. I knew some mantras though. I’d started with simple Om. After few Om’s I added Shanti mantra. I guess Cassie liked it.

I didn’t notice when Al’s mom came in. I was startled when she tapped on my shoulder but I managed not to shriek and continued humming. Terry and Al came home almost at the same time. Al’s mom fed Cassie from the bottle that was kept in another fridge that I didn’t know about.

 

 

We had another two weeks of daily practices before we left for summer vacation. That was the usual stunt drill: up, lib, down, again and again. Sometimes when in ‘Liberty’ (lib) position, we had to switch legs. Ms. Nors told us what we had to practice at home during summer break. The older girls had confirmed my suspicion that it’s no less than two hours every day. Most things were common for all, such as stretches, tumbling, splits, and jumps. Bases and spotters had to perform some weight lifting exercises. Flyers got to practice positions starting with the simplest lib and ending with a needle.

When I got home from my last practice Dad told me that the first yoga camp was starting the day after tomorrow. Well, that wasn’t unexpected. Yoga camps were both Mom’s and Dad’s business. They were getting in touch with their regular clients and sure there were some new people too. Mom was teaching dances, deportment, yoga, and vegetarian cooking too. Dad had his dojo in the downtown and he was teaching yoga and Kalari, that’s kind of like Karate. Rami and I also usually were acting like examples of how to do asanas and exercises right. The downside of staying at yoga camp was there was no Wi-Fi or even mobile phone coverage where we were going. Well… I’ll have more time for my workouts and my reading plan.

 

 

Miranda, call me Randy, refused to believe I was a boy. Neither Dad and Mom nor Rami were helping here. Dad as always was about the illusion thing while Mom was happy I had a friend at least. Rami was bored at the camp and he had nothing to read. Randy with me practicing stunts was his only attraction. The only thing on me that could be mistaken for the girly garment was my teal shorts, not pink or some other girly color. They were short shorts the same as shorts of my uniform. After wearing regular trunks all summer my legs would look like in boots with a tan line around my knees.

“Andy, you are big enough to start wearing a bra,” Randy was saying.

“I don’t need a bra,” I replied. “And I’m not a girl.”

“You pout like a girl,” Randy was persistent. “And besides boys at thirteen already have acne while your face is as smooth as a baby's butt.”

“It’s cause I take pills.”

“What pills? Birth control?”

“Eeew… Noooo… I’m not a girl, I can’t get pregnant.”

“Don’t be so sure. Every girl might fall in love in a heartbeat and then they are at risk whether they planned to get pregnant or not.”

“Randy, I’m not the girl…”

“So tell me what pills you take,” she asked.

“My Mom has a yoga wares store selling things from India and South East Asia. I found some pills in the store that stop acne and has other benefits. I started taking it when Rami started getting pimples more than a year ago. This is why my skin is smooth,” I explained then added “I didn’t steal it. I put money from my allowance in the cash register.”

“Are they some hormones?” Randy asked.

“They are not, I know what hormones are. Mom has some too like progesterone crème from soy and other pills too.”

“So what’s the name?”

“I don’t know. On the bottle, there are only some glyphs. In Mom’s books, there is a name, a double one and I don’t know how to spell it. I guess it has to sound kinda ‘pure miracle’ or something.”

“Oh… I’ll ask my Mom, she has to know,” Randy said. “By the way, I know a bunch of girls who started puberty while cheerleading. Every one of them will confirm - start wearing a bra as young as possible. You’ll be accustomed to it and you’ll not be constricted by it later.”

“I’m not…” it was turning insane. I saw Rami approaching us. “Rami, tell her I’m not a girl, please.”

“Okay… She’s not a girl,” he said.

“RAAMIII…”

 

 

Randy, besides pushing me into girlhood, was teaching me some tricks of cheerleading.

“Do you know your sneakers are at the supporters’ face level,” she said, “and how do you think your sneakers smell?”

“Eeew… They stink…”

“Before the practice put sanitary pads into each shoe to catch your sweat and lock it. After the practice, you take them off and put a couple of tea bags in each. Tea quality doesn’t matter. That’s not all.”

“What else?” At this point, I was really curious. I knew about tea bags from Mom and Randy simply confirmed what I knew beforehand.

“When at home you change tea bags with fresh ones,” she continued. “You’ll need a small sachet for each of your shoes. In each sachet, put a spoonful of ground coffee and tie it. Put one sachet in every shoe. Coffee works longer than one day, almost a month. You’ll see or rather smell.”

This trick was really good. I was using tea bags and they really are better than nothing. But shoes stink anyway after the practice. So I guess they don’t smell roses during practice either when in front of Sue’s face. I tried to put the sanitary pad into my shoes and this trick alone worked exceptionally well. I took a note of it for further use in the future.

“You are still flat chested” Randy started her girl thing again. That was annoying and I told her.

“Randy, it’s not fun anymore. I’m a boy. Please…”

“You are not the first tomboy I’ve met. I bet you’ll be very proud of every inch you sprout on your chest when it really happens.”

“It will not! Never! N-E-V-E-R!”

“I’ll say it anyway. Maybe it will be interesting for your GIRLfriend,” Randy said with a mischievous grin on her face. “When the time comes, you’ll see, sports bras are really tight. They will make your chest flat, especially when there is not much to show.”

“So why do I need it now? I mean I’m flat already and if ever there were something to put in the bra, the one you want to put me in will make me flat anyway.”

“A. The bra is a statement you’re a girl.”

“Then I really don’t need it.”

“Without a bra, you could be mistaken for a boy especially in a poor light.”

“And in NOT a poor light what?”

“In not poor light you are the girl without a bra,” she said.

“Oh no! Please, not this again. I swear I’ll be good girl… sorry, boy…” It made her giggle and then I joined her too.

“Back to the trick,” Randy continued after our giggles subsided. “Put on a non-wired pushup padded bra under the sports bra. Your breasts will be noticed more and not just by the boys!”

“Are you into girls?” I was confused after her ‘not just by boys’ statement.

“I’m not, silly you,” she replied, “I was about talent scouts. You may get a scholarship to some colleges for cheerleading.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.”

“The gist of the trick is to make that under bra invisible. So you’ll need to stitch snap buttons to the inside of sport bra straps and outside of under bra strap. Look.”

She flipped her sports bra’s strap up. There really was that snapping button keeping both straps together.

“Oh…” I managed to say.

“Do you think my breasts are so big?”

“Are they not?”

“They really are. Maybe not SO big but anyway.”

“Then I don’t understand why you need a sports bra that squashes your tits and then another one to make them look bigger.”

“It’s because a good sports bra prevents breasts from jiggling. Wait till your own will be the size of a walnut. With every jump and tumble and toss they will jiggle each in its own direction.”

 

 

I stopped complaining about all this girl stuff. I thought of ignoring it I’ll make it die. And I guess it worked while the next trick Randy told me was about antiperspirant. She used Old Spice. Yes. The same Old Spice for men. She said no girly antiperspirant works like this one.

Then a couple of days later before breakfast Mom handed me some piece of cloth.

“Tiff asked to give this for you to wear during stunt practice,” Tiffany was Randy’s Mom. The thing was a sports bra like one Randy was wearing.

“MOOOM! I don’t need this. It’s a bra.”

“Tiff said without it you look indecent and so demoralize youngsters here.”

“I AM a boy, I can’t wear it,” I whined. “At this camp session, there’re only three youngsters: Randy, Rami and me.”

“Yeah, put this bra on and it will definitely improve my morale,” Rami teased.

“RAAMIII…”

“Not the clothes make a man,” Rami chuckled.

Now I was wearing a sports bra instead of my tee because it was too hot to wear both. I thought to change back at the turn of sessions but Randy and her Mom were here for all eight weeks. I ended up getting tan lines. No, no, I got no tan lines on my legs but on my chest and back. It was obvious I’d spent summer in a bra. What will I do when changing with other boys around in the school locker-room?

 

 

If there was a boy such as Chris, I would be able to really practice stunts and sequences not just poses on the floor. Those were static and since they required skills the practice was boring.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Randy asked.

“Nooo… and I am not a girl,” I whined, “he’s a base and he can lift and toss me alone by himself.”

“You better practice poses on the ground. For tosses, you need more than one spot or a trampoline.”

“It’s sooo boooring…”

“It’s because you do it all wrong.”

“What do you mean by ‘wrong’?” she made me really curious.

“You stand on the ground so you don’t work with your balance.”

“You mean like balance beam?” I remembered the balance beam from my gymnastics back in junior high. I didn’t practice on it though because it was for girls only.

“Yeah, something like that or it may be a bench or a log.”

Well, we found a log that was five feet long and Dad, with other men, rolled it to our place.

“There is more,” Randy said. “Try to do poses like in yoga.”

“You mean to get into the pose and stay there for several minutes?”

“Yes, but don’t worry about the time. Try to do it without tension. Get into a scorpion and relax.”

I tried it and it was really good. Performing stunts the tempo is very important. For every pose, the flyer has less than a second so there is no time to relax. Randy and I were mirroring each other on the opposite ends of the log. Now the practice was interesting again. For me, it was now more interesting than yoga itself.

“There is a pose ‘Cry baby’. Every girl who isn’t a yogi will cry trying to perform it. And not just the first time,” Randy’s Mom said. “I was crying too because I wasn’t yogi when I was a cheerleader.”

She stood in front of us in Liberty pose on her right foot. She started turning her torso to the right and to lift the bent at the knee left leg backward up. Her hands didn’t move and stayed in Lib. Now her torso was turned to the right and bent to compensate the rising of the left leg which was still bent at the knee. At the same time, the face wasn’t turned and she was facing us. The pose was completed with left toes under her chin.

“It’s called ‘Chin-chin’ too sometimes,” Randy’s Mom said still in the same pose.

Randy and I needed two weeks to learn chin-chin and to perform it flawlessly.

 

 

We had another two weeks until the school started and a week before the first practice. It was a good time for back-to-school shopping. Rami had gained another two inches and twenty-two pounds so he needed an all-new wardrobe. I… I didn’t change. Nothing. Ah well, not exactly nothing – half an inch and six pounds. I’m very careful with my clothes so there was no need to buy anything. In other words, I would go to high school like someone from junior high. I had to wear the same tees and the same jeans three years in the row. I’m not a shopping person but again some new tees would be nice. Instead of the mall, my shopping trip was limited to the grocery store.

The first thing on my list was the ground coffee. We had none at home because neither black tea nor coffee was a hot drink for real yogis. Mom used black tea in bags for sports shoes so I needed only coffee. Next, I had decided to buy plain cotton socks for kids instead of making sachets for coffee myself. At last, I needed sanitary pads. Good, I’d remembered what pack Randy had used because there was a myriad of choices.

“Isn’t your Mom buying you all those things?” Suddenly a sales lady asked from behind me what made me yelp in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.

“Er… I guess I’m big enough to buy myself what I need.” I replied.

“Haven’t considered tampons instead?”

“Er… No… Those are for my practice… cheerleading, I mean… and I… er… I’ve used them and they were OK.”

“Oh, I wish my girls were as independent as you,” another lady said who was shopping in the same section.

“For practice try those,” the sales lady showed me a similar colored pack. “They are with the wings and thus they stay in place when you move.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess…” I replied though I wasn’t sure how I will use those wings with the pad in my shoe. Sometimes I was taking insoles out from the shoes and washing them. That's especially after really intense practice. So maybe it was a good idea to fasten the pad on the insole folding the wings over.

“Need something else sweetie?” the saleslady asked.

“Some underwear I guess…”

“Something fancy?”

“Oh no. Just plain white cotton.”

“You are…” she stepped back from me and squinted at me, “… twelve. Yes, twelve.”

“I’m thirteen,” I protested.

“Your size is twelve.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I guessed my reaction was very childish.

“Week pack or dozen?” she asked.

“Er… Oh…”

“Dozen is a much better deal.”

“Er… OK, I guess,” I managed to say. She handed me a pack of twelve and I put it into my cart.

“Tops?”

“No, thank you. That’s everything I needed. Thank you for your help.”

“That’s my job,” sales lady replied with a grin.

I was already cycling with all purchases in my backpack when a car honked passing me. The same lady who praised me back in the store waved and smiled at me.

At home, I found that my newly purchased whitey-tighties had no Y-front. I wasn’t using it anyway so it wasn’t such a problem.

 

 

As my Dad used to say “Every red-blooded testosterone-loaded teenager tends to show-off.” Like me. At the very first practice, the very first thing I’d shown was Chin-chin.

“Oh, you don’t use your hands,” Ms. Nors wondered. “Will you do it with pom-poms?”

We don’t do stunts with pom-poms. We need hands for balance and we use hands to help stretch legs into various stunts too. Dance squad is using pom-poms. Ms. Nors handed me one white and another orange pom-poms. That's because our school colors are white and orange and black.

I did it again this time with pom-poms and Ms. Nors took a picture of me with her smart-phone. Actually, we did nothing this time at the practice while we chatted about what we did during summer. Ms. Nors reminded us that Lucille, Sheila and I were still not registered at the school office. We needed to do this ASAP.

We went into the office to register and get to know what classes we were assigned to. Apparently, I had to see a doctor to be examined before I could be registered, and only then come back. I wasn’t the only one who was visiting the doctor before school so I was squeezed into the tight schedule the same day.

In the doctor’s office, I was embarrassed by those clear tan-lines from wearing a bra. Neither nurse nor doctor said anything about it. The nurse looked something familiar to me but I couldn’t recall where I’d met her. She measured me then checked my heart and lungs and blood pressure. I’d tried to say I wasn’t growing and Doc said I was developed enough for my age and that everything will come in its own time. What will come she didn’t explain, most probably height and weight I guess. They didn’t give me any form or slip and said they’ll send all info to the school directly via the internet. When my examination was over, I did remember that the nurse was that woman that praised me in the grocery store.

So it was another day and I was in the school office again. A lady behind the desk was handing us schedules along with some forms for our parents to sign. With all papers in my hands, I was at least a real high school student.

 

 

Now that both Al and I were back at home after the summer break we were together again. It didn’t take us long to tell each other what we did during the summer, not that there was much to tell. Al wasn’t a yoga fan and as far as cheerleading was concerned, he was just interested in the hot girls. I wasn’t interested in football. For me, one football player in the family, Rami was more than enough.

Al and I were watching TV in the sitting room while Al’s sis Terry with her friend Erica was chatting in the same room.

“Can you ask Al’s girlfriend to babysit Doris tonight?” I overheard Erica’s question. Wow! Al got a girlfriend during summer break and I, his best friend, am the last to know it.

“Who’s she?” I nudged Al.

“Who is what?” Al pretended he didn’t understand.

“Don’t feign! Erica’s just said you’ve got a girlfriend. C’mon, I’m your best friend, you can trust me, who’s she?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about. Ask Erica yourself, she’s out of her mind.” That wasn’t the answer I was expecting from Al. I was always honest with him and always thought, till now, he’s been honest with me.

“Andy, honey,” Terry asked, “would you come here please?”

“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Erica needs someone to babysit her daughter today, Would you be so kind as to do it for her?”

I couldn’t say ‘No’ to Terry, could I? If she was personally asking me something, how could I turn her down?? But I hadn’t babysat before. The only time was when I couldn’t leave Terry’s baby unattended. I mean, I had to change a diaper twice, but I wasn’t sure boys were suited for babysitting. Al’s girlfriend had probably turned them down and I was the only other person Terry and Erica could think of.

“Only if you call my dad and tell him I’m not fooling around,” I replied.

“No problem, honey.”

“Let’s go then,” Erica urged me on. “I’ll bring you home afterward”.

 

 

Doris wasn’t Erica’s only child, there was her six-year-old brother, Bill too. Not such a big deal. I’d changed two diapers in the row (Cassie did exactly the same). Later I fed Doris from a bottle, she burped and then I carried her for an hour until she was asleep. Bill was fed also. I read a story once he was in bed. I’d found ‘The ugly duckling’ in the sitting room.

After I was done with the kids, I read ‘The little prince’ I’d taken it from the school library. I didn’t turn the TV on because Doris wasn’t sound asleep. I sat right next to her crib. The book wasn’t too interesting and my mind was coming back to Al’s girlfriend again and again. It’s not about gossip or anything, it was more about trust. Why did he have to hide this from me? Was he ashamed of me, did he think I’d say something bad? Nonsense! I couldn’t do anything to Al, I wouldn’t ever betray him.

So why distrust me then? While thinking about it over and over, I was getting tearful. Shortly tears started running down my face. That was exactly the moment Erica came home. Maybe I sniffled too loud or maybe some tears I hadn’t brushed away but Erica knew I was crying.

“What happened honey?” she asked with concern.

“That’s… sob… about Al’s… sob… new girlfriend… sob…” I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. Why couldn’t I stop crying?

“I know sweetie, some boys are boorish,” she soothed me.

After I used the bathroom and washed tears from my face we talked a little about her kids. I asked if it was OK to read ugly duckling. I knew from somewhere that some kids were too sensitive for that kind of stories. But this was the only book I had found in the sitting room.

“Oh, Bill already six months ago said he was too big for good-night stories,” Erica said with a grin.

“I didn’t push him,” I said. “I asked if ugly duckling was OK and he nodded his head ‘yes’.”

“And Doris?”

“In the beginning she was quiet and then she gradually became restless. Maybe she’s teething,” I considered.

“It’s about time,” Erica said. “How do you know? About teething I mean.”

“She’s chewing her pacifier instead of sucking it,” I replied. “She tries to push it deeper into her mouth also.”

We chatted a little more and then Erica’s husband Malcolm came home and he drove me to my house. When I was about to exit the car he offered me money for the evening but I refused because it was a help and not a job.

 

 

“I didn’t know you were a babysitter,” Dad said when I came home.

“Am I?” I wondered too.

“Al’s sister called and said you were babysitting her colleague’s baby daughter and that it wasn’t your first time. So I considered it as babysitting.”

“That first time I was kinda in no position to say no, actually. Al’s sis was in the library and Al was supposed to watch the baby while she went out. Then Al got the call from school that delayed tryouts for the football team were planned the same day. There was no one else to stay with Cassie, so I did it. For Al football is the same as it is for Rami. You know how he is about that game,” I explained putting the accent on ‘game’.

“And today?”

“Today Terry’s friend Erica asked if maybe Al’s girlfriend could stay with her baby daughter…”

“Oh, Al’s got a girlfriend?” Dad interrupted me.

“Apparently yes…”

“Who is she? Maybe I know her parents.”

“He didn’t say who. He pretends there isn’t any, I mean I’m his best friend and he won’t even tell me?”

“Hm-m… Maybe the girl doesn’t want the news to spread. Sometimes girls have their own logic.”

“Oh… I didn’t think about it,” I admitted, “you’re maybe right.”

Maybe really Al wasn’t holding out on me, maybe there was some simple explanation.

“Your coach has called too,” Dad interrupted me. “She asked if I wouldn’t object taking pictures of you during practice and using them for the district’s leaflet. She said the legal term is publication.”

“So?”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “If you agree I mean.”

“Ah… Oh… Why wouldn’t I? I mean, sure, I agree,” it was so out of the blue.

“If you agree, she said for you to prepare for some kind of photo session tomorrow.”

“She didn’t say what she meant for ‘prepare’?”

“No, she didn’t,” Dad replied, “and I’m just as confused as you. Maybe it’s about some girly things, you know, most cheerleaders are girls.”

“Maybe Mom will know? When will she be home?”

“Late, very late, or rather very early, sometime about five-ish, I guess. She has a Yoga Nidra practice tonight. She’ll be exhausted in the morning. Maybe there is nothing very special in this ‘prepare’ thing?”

Maybe Dad was right. Usually, he was.

 

 

In the morning I put on my cheerleading uniform at home. I couldn’t think of anything more to be ‘prepared’ for practice. Rami had football practice at the same time so he drove me to school in his new car. Did I say he got a new car? No? Someone had got everything: growing spurt, muscle mass and now a new car. OK, it’s a used car but new for him.

At school, there were two ladies with Ms. Nors. One of them was a photographer, who was carrying a camera with her everywhere. Another one, Beatrice, told me to turn around and examined how I looked. Ms. Nors said I was to do everything Beatrice ‘call me Trish' told me. Trish took me to the coach's office and sat me on a chair.

“Untie your hair, sweetie,” she said. “Your hair is fantastic! Why do you keep it in a bun?”

“Otherwise I look too girly and…”

“Girly? Yeah… What do you use to condition it? It’s so full and lustrous.” Trish asked while she was brushing my hair.

“Oil mix,” I replied.

“What mix, if it’s not a secret?”

“I don’t know,” I really didn’t know. “My Mom has a yoga wares store and she takes it from there.”

“Well… And what shampoo do you use to wash it?”

“None. We use scalded rye bread.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean…”

“Mom, Dad, my bro and I.”

“I see…” Trish continued to brush my hair. I guess she wasn’t so much interested in my hair. Probably she was just chatty.

She parted my hair at the top of my head, then in the left part, she braided an orange ribbon and into the right a white one.

“I will look girly in it,” I complained.

“Nothing girly,” Trish said, “just a way to put more of the school colors on you.”

Then she dabbed a sponge with something wet over my face.

“Are you painting me?” I was confused.

“Er… am-m-m… not…” and then she took a large brush like one in old movies men used to put foam for shaving just with a longer handle. “I… m-m-m… I put foundation on you. And it’s not girly. The camera sees differently from the human eye. I need to soften highlight and shadow contrast on your face.”

Then she took a very sharp looking pencil and moved it to my left eye that made me flinch.

“Didn’t you use make-up before?” Trish asked.

“I did not.” I said and at the same time guessed I wasn’t polite so I added: “I’m not in drama, I know those on the stage use a lot of make-up.”

“Yes, they use a lot. And their make-up is different from one I’m applying to you. Now close your eyes and be still.”

I felt like she painted somewhere around my eyes with that sharp pencil. Later she said to open my eyes and did something to my lashes with a round brush.

“Well, you’re ready now. Let’s show you to your coach,” Trish said and we went outside.

“Oh, TOM boy made pretty,” camera lady said with an accent on ‘Tom’.

“My name is Andy,” I corrected her.

“Sure,” she said glancing at me funny.

I was given the pom-poms. Terry and Sean stood in front of each other while Chris climbed on their hands and they raised him to a prep level. Chris bent down and grabbed my right hand and helped me to climb up. He pushed me up till I was standing on his palms and raised me up to his extended level. I lifted all my weight on the right foot and now Chris was holding it with both of his hands. I raised my hands with pom-poms up and folded left leg into Chin-chin.

I noticed a forklift nearing to our pyramid. On its fork was a platform with a camera lady. Her face was behind the camera but I heard her commands: “Look at me and grin as it’s fulfilling of your dream.” I stared into the lens and was grinning like mad.

 

 

The session was over. The forklift lowered its fork with the platform. Chris helped me jump down and then jumped down himself. The boys high-fived themselves and then high-fived me too. To be accepted into their circle was really encouraging.

I’d noticed both ladies putting their gear away and I hurried to them.

“Trish, would you take that paint off my face, please. I know from drama class soap isn’t enough here.”

“You really don’t like yourself pretty?” she asked.

“Ewww, I look like a girl.”

“Ah, really… OK then.” She took cotton pads and poured some thick white liquid on them and cleaned my face with it. It came off as a brown and black smear. Trish repeated it a few times until the cotton wasn’t dirty. Then she unbraided ribbons and helped me to put my hair into the bun again.