Cheerleaders Rule!

It put a damper on the festivities, the news that there were guys downstairs.

“Beverly!” Joanna spat. “I’m going to pull her scalp off and have it made into a wig!”

Joanna’s Aunt Beverly had been on the phone earlier. Had she called up some friends and invited them to crash the party? Probably.

I didn’t understand the family dynamic of the Linklaters, but Beverly seemed to hate everyone. What was she doing here anyway? Were Joanna’s parents so clueless that they had actually left Beverly as the responsible adult at a teen party?

“She’s got the key to the liquor cabinet,” Megan remarked. We’d all seen Bev sipping something that might have been a cocktail.

The sudden sound of a crash downstairs caused everyone to jump. I looked around. Half of the girls in the room were still naked, or mostly so. In fact, I was the only one who was completely dressed, even if I was wearing a cheerleader outfit.

“Find something to put on!” I hissed at them. “I’ll go downstairs and find out what’s happening.” They scrambled around like startled birds, some of them grabbing at things to wear.

“Petey-pete-pete!” Megan called to me as I started toward the door. “They’ll see what you’re wearing!”

I shrugged. “If they’re Bev’s friends, they probably don’t know me.” And even people who do know me might not recognize me in a skirt with a blouse tight enough to show I had tits. I ran my hands through my hair nervously before I reached the head of the stairs.

“Be careful, Pete!” someone called to me.

Someone else commented. “Better call her Gayle when she’s dressed like that. Or is the secret blown up for good?”

Yeah. Damn.

Peals of rumbly laughter rolled up the stairs, and a male voice called out. “Catch her! Don’t let her get away!”

I ran down the stairs, three steps at a stride, almost tripping. I grabbed the banister to make the turn and to keep from falling. Behind me, someone called, “Pete! Gayle! Pete!”

I made another turn at the arch into the big dining room. Two guys were there, manhandling two girls who were squealing as they were pushed, stumbling and flailing, from one man’s grasp to another.

“Let her go!” I screamed. I saw Bev sitting in the breakfast alcove with another man who was pouring from a large bottle with a green label into the glass Bev held. She waved it at me, spilling whatever was being poured.

The man looked up and right at me. “Cheerleader,” he commented. “Is that your sister?”

I didn’t hear Bev’s reply as the two men in the dining room let their nearly naked prey escape when they turned toward me. “You guys get out of here!” I ordered the men, but my voice seemed shrill and shaky.

“You guys get out of here!” One of them mocked me in a falsetto.

“I think she’s volunteering for our little game of keepaway,” the other suggested. They started in my direction, their arms held wide like inexperienced middle linebackers.

“Joanna’s upstairs calling the police,” I warned the men as they advanced.

“No, I’m not.”

Joanna’s voice came from behind me, and I started to turn when I realized the two assholes were going to rush me. I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I played offense.

A quick glance told me Joanna had found time to throw a shortie nightgown over her nudity, making her twice as naked. “You hit’em high, I’ll hit’em low, Petey,” she yelled. I felt sure she had grabbed their attention.

One of the few pieces of wisdom about fighting I got from my Dad was that if you say anything in a fight, make it a lie, so I did the opposite of what she suggested. I ducked under the first guy’s arms and hit the second guy hip-high, being sure to drive my helmet into his crotch.

Well, I wasn’t wearing a helmet, but the meaning is clear.

Offense moves first--you don’t wait on the defenders. I pivoted, rolling away from my first target and tripping him on the way down. In the kitchen, Aunt Bev was in the middle of a scream when I hit her last friend in the world around the middle, this time, my skull in his solar plexus.

The damn skirt I was wearing had flipped up on my first hit but hadn’t caused a problem, so I followed my victim down, landing with a knee to his chest. “Shut your face, Bev!” I screamed.

Joanna hadn’t been waiting, either. She’d vaulted over the banister, long legs flashing, and I looked back in time to see her make a one-point landing with her other foot in the would-be voyeur’s face.

Three men down on the play. I rolled off number three in one motion and stood over him with a bare foot on a wrist. “Easy does it, Lance-a-little, if you don’t want a broken arm,” I warned.

True to form, Bev sneered at him. “I thought you guys played football in college. You just got taken down by a pair of high school cheerleaders!”

She reminded me of what I was wearing, and I grinned at the man on the floor. “I didn’t even get to use my pom-poms!” I said, grinding his wrist against the floor a bit.

“I say we hold them for the cops,” Joanna said loudly, causing the two nearest the door to make a break for it. She let them get past but delivered a kick in the ass to the slower one.

“Please,” whimpered the man on the kitchen floor as I stepped away from him. “I’ll go if you let me. We only came because Bev said there would be free beer. And…and, ice cream.”

Beer and ice cream didn’t sound that good to me, but Joanna cackled. “You only get the ice cream if you’re bleeding! You wanna bleed a little for some Rocky Road?”

“You can go if you take her with you,” I told him, gesturing toward Bev.

Jo snarled at her aunt to encourage her to go along. We had an audience gathered on the stairs, which Megan led in a cheer. “Petey, Pete, Pete!”

I rolled my eyes and pointed at Joanna. Someone added, “Cheerleaders rule!” Everyone laughed as Bev and her escort scurried out the front door, with Bev protesting, “My smokes, lemme get my cigarettes.” The rest of the girls scampered down the stairs or out of rooms where they had been hiding.

We celebrated briefly by raiding the freezer for more ice cream and recapping what had happened, making it sound bigger and more dramatic than it actually was.

Then Megan wrapped me in a hug, and I kissed her on her nose. She pushed me away, putting a hand to my face. “What happened to your eye, Pete? You’ve got a mouse.”

“Wow, yeah,” one of the other girls commented. “It’s turning into a real shiner!”

“One of them must have got you with an elbow or something,” said Jo.

I moved to get a look in the mirror over the dining room buffet. My left eye was swelling and changing colors, with a bit of a scratch on the cheekbone. “Oh, no!” I moaned. “What am I going to tell Lee?”

Joanna was quick. “Lee? Leland Frick? Why should you tell him anything?”

I don’t know why I confessed, but it was out of my mouth before I could think. “We kind of have a date tomorrow night. Just for the movies,” I added.

Too late to take it back, I saw Jo and Megan’s mouths fly open.

Kat whistled. “You go, girl,” she said.

Pete's Vagina 43.1 Highlight Reel available on Patreon