A fist pounded on my bedroom door several times sometime between o’dark thirty and oh-hell-no o’clock. Melissa—not waiting for me to answer her—threw the door open and then threw off my comforter. Great thing for the both of us that I slept in a t-shirt and shorts.

“We got an hour to get to the school before the bus departs.”

“And we’ll get there in five minutes,” I groggily replied as I kicked the blanket back on me.

“My dad’s driving.”

I threw the blanket off. Then bounced up and out of bed. Mr. Anderson believed in driving precisely five miles BELOW the speed limit. He once stated it was best for the engine and that if you really needed to speed to get to your destination then you needed to get your carcass in gear and leave early.

I made a mad dash to grab my backpack, Zune player, charger cable, sleeping bag and a “Roosevelt Rangers” duffel bag packed with my clothes for the week. Melissa grabbed the sleeping and duffel bags and went to place them in the car as I got dressed in a new school shirt that we were to all wear on the first day to camp. I also decided to wear my new shoes—while hiding my old ones under the far side of my bed…

Mom would have to put in some effort in any search and destroy mission.

“Toothbrush?” Mom asked.

“Yes.” I replied as I tied my shoes.

“Deodorant?”

“Do I look twelve?”

“Do you want her to answer that or should I?” Melissa asked as she raced in and grabbed my pillow from off the bed.

“Neither.” I replied.

“Besides, Lin, you don’t look a day above eleven,” mom replied as I zipped the duffel bag.

No sooner had I closed the bag, Melissa whisked it away and—literally—threw it out of the room. I clutched my backpack and snarled at the both of them.

Mr. Anderson sat behind the wheel of a late model Ford Explorer as Melissa, this time gingerly, took my backpack and then closed the rear door. Melissa then got into the SUV and sat next to me. We sat in silence while on the way to the school. While we usually talked to each other about almost everything, stopping short of dating advice or asking “who’s the cuter guy”. I wanted to tell Melissa about Joey, but I thought Mr. Anderson would overhear—as Melissa could seldom keep her voice above a low roar—and I would be riding on the luggage rack.

I laid my head back for what seemed like a second only to be awaken by a slap to the face, courtesy of Melissa. We were at the school with a charter bus idling next to the curb. I dreaded it was going to be a school bus, but instead, it was something much better.

“Melisa, Lin! Get over here!” Andrea—somehow was bright-eyed and awake—motioned for us to haul our butts to the rest of the group. I grabbed my backpack and duffel bag and ran ahead. Andrea grabbed the duffel and threw it onto the cargo hold. I clutched my backpack like Gollum.

Melissa followed behind, carrying two bags entwined together which she shoved into the bus. She then turned back to her dad and waved. I waved as well until Andrea grabbed my arm.

“On the bus, now!”

The bus was large enough that everyone could pretty much have their own seat and for the most part, everyone was. Melissa plunked herself in a seat and ordered me to sit with her—on the outside—across the aisle from other members of the squad that I had maybe talked to twice.

“Attention,” Mrs. Humphrey, our advisor and coach, stood at the front of the bus with Andrea’s clipboard. “We should be at the college in five
hours. The restroom is not working

“We could just press up against the windows.”

“Disgusting and not happening, Miss Anderson.”

“How did she hear that?” Melissa whispered to me.

“I’m a math teacher, I hear everything,” Mrs. Humphrey replied while looking at the clipboard.

I shrugged my shoulders at Melissa’s questioning face.

“As said before. No. Cell. Phones. They are not allowed on campus. You should not even have one with you right now.”

The glow from a few screens immediately went out.

“We have everyone, so let’s get going, girls and guys.”

The bus engine roared to life and the inside lights dimmer further.

“You can go back to sleep,” Melissa said as she picked her backpack up and took out a bottle of nail polish.

“You’re going to do your nails here? On a bus?”

Melissa lowered the stowed tray on the seat in front of her. “Yes. Cherry Cordial. It’s a low odor version.”

“What if we hit some sort of bump?”

“Then I’ll replace your shirt or sweats. Whichever gets more on it.”

I looked at her for a second and, knowing she was serious, decided to do just as she suggested. I just hoped I wouldn’t snore.

“If I snore, wake me up.”

“No problem,” Melissa replied as she removed the cap.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Go with that feeling."

I turned slightly towards Melissa, to get a more comfortable position. The seats were nice with so much give to the back you felt like it would swallow you by it and you didn’t have to recline the seat back into someone else’s lap. It was easy to fall to sleep.

My dreams were more difficult: filled with people laughing and voices I had never heard talking about crazy it was that I actually looked like a girl. This was not something I liked hearing in the real world, much less in my dreams. The worst part was a vision of standing in front of Joey at Subway, or maybe it was a Dairy Queen, wearing a cheerleader uniform: the shell, the sweater, the frilly socks, and my hair saturated with a bow so humongous that it would make Jojo Siwa scream that I was overdoing it a bit. My nails were even painted, a light red, and my hands were caressing his face, his neck, his chest—I guess one could be a nude sandwich artist—and lower but my eyes never left his face. My hands were moving all around, and I couldn’t stop them until one of them slapped me in the face and I woke up to see Melissa showing me her nails, or at least what I thought were her nails.

“See? Not a drop spilled.”

“Nice, I replied as I woke up and then realized they were my hands. ”Why did you paint my nails?”

“It looks good on you and who’s Joey? Is she new?”

The bus stopped at a truck stop somewhere between the town of Rock Bottom and Nopeville—only because Chad stated that if we didn’t stop then he would have to test what part of the restroom was broken. So, there we were, in a place that had a diner attached to the store where the waitresses most likely ended all of their sentences with the word “hon”.

I walked a few steps in front of Melissa among the giggling of several girls as I tried to cover my hands but then thought, “screw it,” and walked through the store to the restroom.

I was about to pull on the door when a very large and bearded man opened the door from the inside, nearly knocking me over. “Sorry, little miss, you don’t want to go in there.”

I was about to take offense when Melissa grabbed my arm. “He’s right, Lin, come on.”

“Melissa!” I stammered as she flung me into the open door of the ladies’ room. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Get in the rear stall, now!”

I ran down to the last one, scampered in as soon as the door locked, other members of the squad came in. I did what little business I had to do and just sat there, stranded, because if I opened the door and walked out there would be so many shrieks and screams one would assume someone was being murdered…which would have been me as soon as Andrea or Mrs. Humphrey found out.

A part of me wanted to yell a few choice words at Melissa and the other part was amazed at how clean the floor was.

“Coast is clear. Hurry up and open the lock!”

“Well, you ordered me in here,” I replied as I opened the door and looked at face in the mirror. “I have lipstick on too?”

“Yes, so you see, it wouldn’t have been a good idea to go into the men’s room. That one guy would have freaked if you stormed past him.”

“Next question.”

“I already know what it is, but please, go ahead.”

“Why do I have lipstick on?”

While I never actually tired putting lipstick on, I had always wondered about it. Melissa had threatened to put some on me, and it appears she was able to do so. At least she didn’t soak my hands in water for that would have been a disaster of Niagara Falls proportions.

“Because it goes along with her nails. We need to hurry and back to the bus.”

“Why, so you’ll have time to put my hair in pigtails?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Melissa replied as she opened the door, saw no one was in the area, and then flung me out of the restroom by an arm. I was about an inch away from toppling a display filled with shot glasses. It would have been a great YouTube video.

Melissa purchased a Dr. Pepper and a water for me. Then we high-tailed it to the bus.

“We are this close to leaving you here!” Andrea yelled as she held up a finger…her middle one.

“Point made, Andrea,” Melissa said with a bow as we got back on the bus. Unfortunately, now that we were the center of attention, everyone on the bus could see the beginning of said make-up session. I wanted to turn around and just stay at the truck stop, have a slice of cherry pie and maybe a cup of coffee but Melissa simply shoved me past everyone until we got to our seat.

I quickly sat down, got out my Zune, slammed on my headphones and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see all the eyes staring at me. Melissa nudged my shoulder.

“I’m not talking to you,” I whispered.

“Well, I’m talking yo you,” she replied as she moved my left headphone from my ear. “So stop the music.”

I paused the song, opened my eyes and took off my headphones.

The bus rolled forward, and we were on our way once again. It wasn’t the best place or time to have second thoughts about everything but it in my mind it was the best time to have a mid-teenage life crisis…especially when I had on nail polish and lipstick.

“Listen, no one is laughing at you. Well, maybe Chad and Mike, I’m not sure if they even saw anything, but everyone else thinks it’s either impressive or are just for it. A ‘you do your thing’ kind of thing.”

“Melissa, this is ‘your thing’, not mine,” I waved my fingers at her as I said it.

“You seem comfortable with it.”

“Melissa, I—”

“—What? You look very cute. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“No.”

“Not even this Joey girl?”

“No, they didn’t state it that way.”

“They?”

I threw my head back against the seat and closed my eyes again.

“Did he say you were cute?”
My eyes flashed open, and I stared at her like a deer in headlights.

“Is he cute? Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

If ever there was time to stand up, throw the switches to release the windows, jump, tuck and roll out of that bus, that was it. I could feel the sweat on my face and arms.

“You know, if he saw you now, he’d think even more about you.”

“Yes and no, I mean, maybe he did but I told him I was a guy.”

“Fascinating.” Melissa replied as she handed me the bottle of water.

 Three hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-six seconds later, the bus rolled onto the campus of Central Valley University, our home for the next six days. The school had multiple dorm rooms, a massive amount of buildings including a gym and a stadium that most likely had more money sunken into it than the town could really afford. I kind of thought about putting in an application to attend.
The bus lurched to a halt as everyone picked up trash and the stuff they brought with them. Melissa took the empty water bottle from me and tossed it in a trash bag that was making its way to the back of the bus. Mrs. Humphrey stood up at the front of the bus.

“Everyone, listen up!”

We all stopped what we were doing and looked to her.

“Girls, you have been assigned to Rasche Hall. And guys,” she looked at me for a moment and her eyes kind of widened, but then looked beyond me to Chad and Mike. “You will be in Brown Hall. Now we’re going to calmly get off the bus and go to registration. Your bags will be unloaded and locked in a designated area.”

I walked off the bus with Melissa walking behind me.

“Maybe you should be in Rasche Hall with me.”

“You’re hilarious, more so than usual,” I replied with an eye-roll.

“Who would know?” She asked with a shrug.

“Everyone on this bus, for one.”

“Psssh, like that matters.”

I stepped off the bus, hoisted my backpack up and stood next to the rest of the group.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Chad asked.

Mike and Chad stood next to us on the sidewalk. They’re expressions were not a ‘hey, look at the crazy guy’ but more of puzzlement.

“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” I replied.

“Are you planning on wearing a skirt or shorts?” Mike asked.

“Don’t you think it looks good?” Melissa held my free hand out to show them the nail polish.

Yes, I had the feeling to once again to either faint dead away or to run for the literal hills, which were just a few miles away.

Chad nodded. “You do you.”

Mike shook his head and sighed as our group marched forward to a large building with a large banner reading “World Cheerleading Council” stretching over the doors.