Off the Ground (Revision) 1
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Listen to What the Man Said
I was asked by my best friend, Melissa Anderson, to join the Jefferson High School cheerleader squad. She had joined a year prior and would lament and scream in agony about how many opinions sixteen girls could have about a four-count section of a cheer.
“Why would I want to involve myself in all the in-fighting? I asked as we sat in the back of the classroom.
“Because it’s fun.”
“I’d rather not. I can think of a million reasons.”
“Name four,” Melissa challenged and held out her hand.
I should have known not to say that. I should have just given a flat ‘no’.
I knew the cheers, I knew the dance routines, I could draw posters, and I enjoyed going to the games.
“Can’t, can you?”
“I don’t want to put with the teasing.”
“From who?”
“A very small, but very loud and obnoxious, group of students.”
Melissa stared blanky at me for a second. “That’s a lame reason. I mean, I’m out there in a skirt, wearing bows and looking oh-so-cheery. You only have to stand, clap, and catch us.”
“Oh there’s more to it than that. Everyone remembers when Bryan Mercer did that somersault flip and broke his collarbone.” That had happened a week prior, so the squad was down a member—once who all action and no talk. He went along with everything that the other girls asked him to do. Hence, the near-fatal routine.
“You’re going to try out,” She demanded as we walked down the crowded hall.”
“Again, why?”
“Because you’re good.”
“I can’t lift anyone, well, maybe one or two of the other girls.”
“You can be my dedicated base. I’m going to sign you up.”
Practice started at the end of the week. There were five girls that were graduating that year, so they needed to be replaced. In addition, the cheer coach wanted more guys to join; not just a replacement for Bryan. There were two other guys who tried out: Mike Creston and Chad McKinney.
Mike had played football for three years but injured a tendon in his leg and ruined his ability to run at full speed. His injury did not prevent him from lifting his own weight on a barbell nor did it stop his booming voice. Chad was a star on the basketball court but decided he wanted to do something different, so he turned in doing half-court baskets to basket tosses. Compared to them, I should have put on a shell, skirt and some ribbons in my hair and tired out with the girls.
So, the cheer squad for my junior year consisted of sixteen girls and three guys. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be happy about it or scared out of mind. For a few weeks into the summer were nights I would wake up in a cold sweat as I had the consistent nightmare of wearing a girl’s uniform and moving to the rhythm of a song that should have been banned for any cheerleading squad to perform.
Three weeks into summer, we all met back at the high school gym for a few daily practices before leaving the following Monday for Cheer Camp. After a grueling attempt to NOT learn the routine, I was glad to be heading home. Glad, but in fear of my life as Melissa had recently gotten her driver’s license.
“You should do the dance routines with us.”
“I am not going to perform the moves for ‘Rumpshaker’.”
“Why not?” Melissa asked as she shifted into fifth gear.
“I don’t wanna zoom-a-zoom-zoom-zoom and a poom-poom. You do know what ‘poom poom’ means, right?”
Melissa drove like Danica Patrick, and amazingly she never got pulled over.
“Yeah, I’m trying to talk Andrea out of it.”
Andrea was the head cheerleader and was always a cheery, happy, “hey, how ya doing” kind of person until someone makes changes on her. Then she became a demon born of hellfire and scorn. She had picked the song and the routine.
“I mean there are some killer steps in it but, yeah, we shouldn’t do it,
“I don’t want to even be in the same state when you tell her.”
Melissa grinned and then accelerated.
“Did you ever get the airbag repaired?”
“Not yet. Dad’s waiting for something else to break down.”
I pulled my seat back as far as I could.
“Aw, c’mon. I’m a safe driver.”
“You’re a careful driver.”
“Same thing.”
“The speed limit is 65 and you’re near, is that ninety?”
“Only eighty-five.
“Only,” I replied with a nod and raised eyebrows. “Are we trying to match Han in the Kessel Run?”
“The force is strong with you, eh?” Melissa replied.
The force of going through the windshield was stronger. Luckily, we on the side streets approaching Cherry Blossoms Apartments. I lived in a two-bedroom apartment with my mom. Dad? He was usually out of the country; a part of the divorce that mom was fine with. There were times that I talked with him, but for the most part he would send me a postcard or a letter. He would call every lunar eclipse or so.
“Make sure you’re ready to leave on time.”
“I will be,” I replied as I grabbed a large red gym bag that screamed out it was for one of the girls with a fuchsia—some would say “pink”--color with the words “JHS Stallions Cheerleading” and a silhouette of a girl jumping into the air. I wanted the black and gold one like what Chad and Mike had, but there were only two available at the time.
We said our goodbyes and she took off down the road like her car was about to take flight. I trudged up the steps to the third floor and opened the door with my key.
“Lin, is that you?” Mom asked from the other room, her voice all calm.
“Yeah, mom” I replied.
“When were you going to tell me?”
I couldn’t tell if she was worried, mad, curious, or if she finally found out the vodka bottle had only water in it.
“About?” I asked the voice that seemingly came from nowhere, yet everywhere.
“You’re a cheerleader?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Mom walked out of the living room and stared like I had grown a second head or a tail.
“What?”
“It’s just something I didn’t expect you to do.”
“That makes two of us.” I replied as I walked down the hall to my room.
"The school sent some paperwork about a cheer camp. Mind telling me when you were going to talk to me about this?"
"Surprise?" I opened the door to my room and sat the bag next to my bed.
“You’re the one who is going to be surprised. Cheerleading takes a lot of work.”
“Not for me. I just get to stand, clap and shout most of the time.”
“No moves?” Mom asked and then crossed her arms in front of her in disagreement.
“I’ll let Melissa and rest of the girls on the squad do that.”
“Five years of gymnastics and you just want to stand and clap?”
“Hey, it looks good on a college transcript, right?”
Mom huffed and then looked down at the papers.
“You were going to wait until Friday night to tell me about this, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, as we’re leave Saturday morning.”
“Lin! What were you thinking?”
“I’d just go in the morning with Mel. Walmart’s open twenty-four hours.”
“Lindell Julius Armitage! You need the correct shoes, shorts and workout shirts.”
“These are fine,” I replied as I lifted my dark grey and if-they-get-wet-my-socks-get -soaked, had seen better days running shoes.
“You need new clothes.”
I rolled my eyes. I hated shopping with extreme prejudice. If asked to either go shopping or allow my right hand to be crushed, then I would learn to write as a southpaw. Besides the time wasted looking at ridiculously priced but made by the lowest bidder merchandise, I would have to put up with mom talking about clothes and showing me various things, I didn't want to look at, acknowledge, or try on.
We arrived at the store, and I felt like waking towards the street and stepping right into traffic—ANYTHING to avoid going inside any store whatsoever. If it couldn’t be purchased off of Amazon or eBay.com, then it wasn’t needed. My clothes were fine. A little worn, maybe. My shoes, yes, they were falling apart but I didn’t care.
“You cannot go to cheer camp looking like you’re from Hooverville.”
“From where?”
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s find some clothes for you. Do NOT complain about the prices. That’s my job.”
I rolled my eyes. If only Mom was like that when I “needed” a PlayStation 4. I couldn’t care less so I haphazardly went through the clothes: warm-ups, shirts, socks and just picked up what looked like would fit me based on sizes. Except for the shoes. I figured that I would get the best pair of shoes that I could…even if they were a very expensive set ofNike’s.
I brought the gear to the checkout and Mom’s expression at the sight of the price tag on the shoes made her switch out cards. I brushed my hair from off my face and lashed it into a ponytail.
“You said not to get all hyped about the price. They’ll last a while.”
“They’re white, Lin. You’re going to need to take care of them. You should get some water-protection.”
“Why?”
Mom leaned in and whispered in a low roar. “If I’m buying a pair shoes that costs almost as much as a car note then I want them to last.”
“Well, we could put these back and start my car fund? I’m for that.”
“Go back to the department and get some Scotchgard.”
“Some what?”
“It’s a spray. It helps protect materials from water.”
I trudged out at first but then took off in a light sprint—figuring the faster I got this spray the faster we could leave. I had survived the entire time without anyone talking to me except for someone to find the pair of shoes I requested. The guy’s expression was a bit weird when I asked for a size nine-five. I didn’t care, I just wanted to get it over with.
“Miss!” Someone said from behind me.
I kept on with my pace.
“Miss!” the same voice, but louder, “I need you to stop running.”
I stopped to see who was running behind me and met up with an older man with a clipboard in his hands. He wore a store uniform.
“Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, you need to stop running.”
All I could do was frown.
* * *
I sat in the passenger’s seat and glared out the window.
“What are you mad about?” Mom asked as she started the car.
“He called me ‘miss’. Continuously, mom.”
“He just wanted you to stop running.”
“He became my shadow as I walked the rest of the way, got the spray and walked back to the register.”
Mom chuckled a bit. I failed to see what was funny about it.
“Maybe you should cut your hair.”
“No way.”
“That might stop the confusion.”
“Not my problem.” I replied as I turned to her.
“Then you can’t complain when a sixty-year-old man calls you ‘miss’."
“Slash didn’t have to worry about anyone calling him a girl.”
“From the back he might have. People wore some strange stuff in the eighties.”
“I’ll grow a beard.”
“And be a lumberjack one day?”
“A what?” I asked as mom just smirked. “You’re weird, mom”
“I’m a parent, it’s my job. Let’s stop for Subway.”
“No thank you,” I replied with a huff as any form of meat from a store like that combined with a bus ride would equal everyone unable to breathe for the duration of said ride and if that was too much information for you, think about how I felt when I learned of my condition, and it was mor than just flatulence when it started.
“You can get a veggie.”
“Not helping, mom.”
“Tuna salad?”
“There is not a smidgen of fish in one of those, and you know it.”
“It’s not meat, at least.”
Instead of offering an alternative, she turned the car into the parking lot, parked in front of the door and handed a card over to. “Italian BMT, dressed and some Sun Chips.”
“Would you like to super-size it too?”
“Yes, a large is fine.”
I took the card, got out and closed the door. Mom could eat whatever she wanted and never gain a pound. I could barely eat anything without some gastro-intestinal issue occurring. Some people assumed I was rude when I would decline a taco or a slice of pizza. I would have to tell them over how much I wanted to gnosh on what was once sweet manna from the heavens: a Doritos Locos taco. I would have to decline.
The restaurant’s lights were ultra-bright with the neon flashing off the yellow and green. I had to wince a little bit and adjust my eyes.
“Welcome to Subway.” The lone guy behind the counter said.
I blinked a few times and waved to him.
“What can I get for you?”
“Umm, a large Italian, everything on it, and some chips.”
He nodded and proceeded with getting the bread. I turned around to see mom sitting in the car with the headlights on. I stared at her for a few minutes wondering why the lights, and the engine it seemed, were still on. Did she want me to just dash and grab a sandwich? Probably she wanted to keep the air conditioner at negative thirty degrees. I pivoted my feet and spun around to see the guy behind the counter dart his eyes from a downward direction towards me and back to the prep line.
Was he staring at my butt while making a sandwich?
I turned back around, partially in shock, partially in frustration and maybe just a smidgin of astonishment. It was one of those times where you hoped a charter bus full of seasoned adults would pull-up so you wouldn’t have to make strange small talk.
“Umm, what kind of cheese?”
“Provolone,” I replied as I looked away quickly as that moment I felt like dropping to the floor in utter embarrassment on how I felt inside.
“Do you go to Wyatt?” He asked as he cut open a length of Italian bread. Wyatt was a special arts school a few miles away, but they had a rather good football team for an arts school.
“No, I’m from Jefferson.”
“A stallion huh?”
“Yeah. I’m one of the cheerleaders.”
The record scratched very loud in my head as he continued to lay multiple slices of cheese. The meat also appeared to be more than what was normally placed on a sandwich.
“I thought you were.”
“Really?”
“You got the build. I’m, Joey.”
“Lin”
“Short for Linda?”
“No, just Lin.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” I replied with a slight smile.
There was a short delay as he continued to pile on vegetables and oils, so much that I was convinced the sandwich would break apart if he tried to close it.
“Well, would you mind if I asked you something?”
“Sure, Go ahead.”’
“Can I have your number?”
I’m sure I had a dumbstruck look on my face. My face. A part of me was glad at times that I didn’t have to shave as much as anyone else had to. Melissa and mom would sometimes comment on my babyface. I tried to grow a goatee, but it was nigh invisible and itched like mad. I shaved it off and cut myself in a few places in the process. My face and my hair, now behind my head, MIGHT have made me look a bit feminine, but I was still caught off-guard.
“I’m. I’m a guy.”
“And?”
I admit, I didn’t have a response to that.
“I just mean, I like what I see and hear,” he said as he folded the sandwich over with a large knife, not breaking eye contact with me.
“Seriously?” I asked with eyes wide open.
The bread looked flawless. It was like ones on a commercial: ultimate perfection.
“Never had anyone tell you that before?”
“No, I can’t say I have.”
He wrapped the footlong in multiple sheets of folded paper. Grinder origami, I suppose as he spoke:
“Just never sure about how people feel. You run to embrace people you think have a connection and they don’t understand, or we think they won’t. I used to feel that way. But, one day, I decided to throw it all to the wind and go for my dreams.”
“Impressive,” I replied as he threw the hoagie into a bag in what looked like a bartender trick.
“No, you are impressive, Lin. Don’t forget your chips.”
“Lindell. My name’s Lindell.”
I picked up a random bag.
“Which do you prefer?”
“I go by Lin.”
“Go by however you want to, stupendous one.”
He handed me a pen and a ‘Sub club’ card.
I pondered for a second on whether to leave my number. I mean, I could clearly see I was being hit on and, to be honest, it was euphoric. I could never recall anyone flirting with me. I think I sorely misinterpret politeness as flirting and I was oblivious to the real McCoy
“I’ll be at cheer camp this week,” I said as I wrote my number down.
“Then please expect my call next week when you return, my cute one.”
“You think I look cute?”
“Absolutely,” he replied as he traded the card for the sandwich. “And let not another tell you otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
I grabbed the bag—the chips had been placed in the top—most likely in the moments that my attention was distracted.
“It was my pleasure. Is that your mom?”
I turned to see mom standing outside the door with her hand pointing at a non-existent watch on her wrist.
“Yeah,” I replied as I turned back, gave a slight smile. and waved bye to him.
“What took you so long” Mom asked as we got back into the car. True to form, it was freezing cold and what little hair I had on my legs bristled.
“We were talking a bit.”
“About what?
“He goes to Wyatt.”
“You sound, chippy.”
I couldn’t see mom’s expression in the darkness, but it sounded like she was smiling.
“I’m not, chippy, as you say, I just feel better about things at the moment.”
“We may need to come back to this place so I can ask him what he did to the kid I sent in to get me a sandwich. Also, this feels like it weighs a ton.”
“Probably does. I think he triple-stacked it.”
“How much was it?”
“Nothing,” I said with a shrug.
“Are you telling me that he just threw on an obscene amount of everything and just gave it to you?”
“The chips too.”
Off the Ground (Revision) Chapter 2
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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.
Off the Ground (Revision) Chapter 3
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“Are you wearing lipstick?” Mike asked.
I nodded.
“Melissa, is he your personal make-up model?”
“Would you like to be my next artistic marvel?” Melissa asked with a subtle flirty hint to her voice.
“I could use a little hair work, maybe.”
“Oh, I can do a lot more.”
“We noticed,” Chad replied as we stepped into the building.
The hallway was crowded with cheerleaders, advisors, coaches and administrators.
Two guys, each wearing a shirt that read ‘WCC’ came over and motioned to Mike and Chad. “What school are you from?”
“Jefferson.”
“Awesome. Great to see you here!” The first one said.
“Once you are checked in, we need all of the guys to meet on the far side of the gymnasium.” The second guy said.
“Just two from your school?”
Melissa grabbed my arm and hustled me forward. “Let’s see if we have our room assignments, Lin.”
“You guys ready for this week?”
“It’s going to be…interesting,” Chad replied.
I looked back for a second but then turned to face Melissa.
“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” she replied as she patted my shoulder.
“I’m worried about whatever your plan is.”
“My plan is for you to realize who you are.”
“I know who I am, Melissa,” I replied.
Melissa dragged me over away from the crowd.
“You sure about that?”
“Am I sure about what?”
“About whom you really are.”
“I…” I paused for a moment. “I don’t really want to have this discussion right now,” I whispered. I felt afraid and vulnerable of everyone on the squad. I should have gone with Mike and Chad, but instead I was about to be surrounded by girls.
“Okay,” Melissa responded with solemnness and then plastered a Joker-style smile on her face. “You’re still a cheerleader. So, let’s be happy, okay? We’ll touchback on it later.”
We walked into the sprawling gymnasium, and I had to squint to see the other side. It was more like a stadium than a simple gym. We could all take the field and there would be room for a band, football team, perhaps a full game or Lacrosse, and a doubles tennis match.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You will learn, young Padawan.”
“You can’t say that unless—”
“It’s from Star Wars. So, ha!”
“I think I’ll go with the guys.”
“And explain all of this?” Melissa asked as she raised one of my hands up.
“Yeah, I’ll blame you for it.”
“Just hang out here for a bit. At least until Mrs. Humphrey says something.”
“Or Andrea, Nola, Nikki,” I sighed as I looked around.
“If you can do anything at all that will get us high marks at the end of the week, then none of them will care.”
“Wait a minute, what do you mean high marks?”
“It’s a cheer camp, there will always be some kind of competition. You know that.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” A voice boomed over the PA system.
Everyone turned to a young man, maybe in his early twenties, who stood on top of a platform in the middle of the gym. “My name is Zachary and welcome to the WCC—World Cheerleader Council—cheer camp!”
There was an eruption of applause and giggles from most of the crowd of girls. I sighed as I should have standing with Mike and Chad; but if I was, then I would have been thinking I wanted to stand with Melissa and the other girls.
“Each school will be given a name tag and a colored lanyard to identify your school. Now, let me introduce you my fellow staff members!”
“He does cute, in a small guy kind of way. What do you think, Lin?” Melissa asked me with a jab to my side.
“I don’t have any opinion about him.”
“Is Joey better looking?’
‘I’m not answering that either.”
“I think the guy on the right looks good. Muscular legs and arms…probably a few other areas, am I right?”
“Melissa,” I whispered through gritted teeth.
“Does Joey have a lot of muscles?”
“I wasn’t looking at his body.”
“Oh, but you were looking at him, right?”
I could feel the blood rush to my face for the eighth time that day as I tried to ignore Melissa’s commentary about each staff member who walked, jumped, ran and yelled at the podium to get a reaction from the crowd. There were eight women and four men, counting Zachary, and each of them riled the crowd to a crescendoed frenzy one would think we were at a NIN concert.
Ten minutes later, Mrs Humphrey gathered us together and handed out lanyards and badges. The badges had our room assignments and appeared to be the key to gain entry to our dorm rooms.
“Let’s unload the bus!”
Our group followed the crowd out the door once again.
Mike and Chad met up with us before we arrived at the front door.
Mike made a gesture of “after you” to Melissa and she grabbed onto both of our hands.
“I think this is going to be a great week!”
“I’m sure it will be,” Mike replied with a smile.
I wanted to let go of Melissa’s hand and just blend into the crowd, but she held onto my hand like she was ready to crush it.
I didn’t reply but Mike smiled at her as we walked to the bus.
A lot of the squad ran ahead to be the first to grab their things, so all of the bays were open. Chad threw two large duffel bags out and onto the ground.
“What if I had something breakable in there?” Mike asked.
Chad shrugged as he picked up one of the tossed large bags.
I followed Melissa onto the bus where I picked up my backpack and Melissa grabbed her bag. There were buses all over the parking lot, each swarming with girls with their letter jackets. They were all cute. Who was Melissa to assume I could or would be like them.
We got off the bus in a hurry to grab out bags from the luggage compartment.
There were three bags remaining.
Melissa reached in, pulled the bags out, handing hers to me before handing mine over.
“This one’s yours,” she replied as she looked in and then zipped it up.
“It looks more like yours.”
“No, mine has a broken zipper. Take it. Mrs. Humphery, we’re missing a bag.”
“What?” Mrs. Humphery barked as she took off her sunglasses and investigated the now entry bay. “Who’s missing a bag?”
“Mine,” Melissa replied and raised her hand.
“I’ll need to call the school, and we’ll need to see what we need to do.”
“I’m sure it will all come together,” Melissa said with a shrug. “I’ll check with the other girls maybe one of them has it.”
“You’re rather calm about this,” I replied.
“That’s why my important stuff’s in these bags,” Melissa replied as she lifted her arms.
I stared at her with my jaw hanging open. Melissa, the one who always wanted to have just the right outfit, right down to the underwear, available if she needed it. Melissa, the one who would pack a curling iron and a regular iron with her, just in case.
“I mean if I gotta wear this and wear it again, then I’ll be okay.”
“Did you forget it on the bus?” Mrs. Hunphery asked.
“No, I just took my backpack onto the bus,” Melissa replied as she hoisted said backpack onto her shoulders.
“Everyone’s supposed to get a t-shirt and a pair of shorts for the week. We’ll have to see about getting you a few extra ones.’
‘That will work, Mrs. H.”
I still looked at her, dumb founded.
“I’m good. I’m fine. It will be like getting to wear a new uniform each day.”
“But all of your stuff?” I asked.
“Pssh, I’m good.”
“Alright, you guys are in Richards Hall, which is down this path and to the right. Melissa, come with me.”
I picked up my bag and walked next to Chad and Mike.
“Your friend is a character,” Chad said with a whistle.
“She sure is,” I replied,
“Tell me about it,” Mike said with a grin.
“Dude, there is almost a 1:100 ratio here.” Chad raised his hands and pointed around as we walked into the quad area. There were multiple buildings with six of them marked with WCC banners,
“Yeah, but I’m kind of liking her. She’s growing on me.”
“Careful, or you may turn into one her projects, like Lin.”
“Did you let her do that to you?”
“I was asleep,” I replied as he we walked up to the door to Richards Hall.
Two guys with black lanyards stood next to the door.
“Dudes, welcome to the dorm. I’m Rick and this is Bryan.” Rick then turned his attention to me and pointed to his left. ‘Your dorm is over there with the girls.”
“I’m Chad, this is Mike and Lin.’
"Seriously? You’re a guy?” Bryan asked.
“Ever have your girlfriend try to give you a makeover?” Chad asked Bryan. “And you know you can’t tell her no, right?”
“Especially his,” Mike replied.
“No one can say no to her,” I said as I threw my hair back, which was probably the least ‘manly’ thing I could have done at that moment as it made me look as I was doing some sort of make-up shoot.
Bryan and Rick slowly nodded and then motioned us to follow them.
“You got the door marked in red. Showers and restroom are down the hall. We have to be on the far end of the gym in about thirty minutes.
We’ll see you guys there.”
“Catch you later then, Bry,” Chad shouted as he opened the dorm room and took a step in. “My God, it’s worse than a Motel 6 and there’s no minibar.”
“If my portable refrigerator still works…”
“Oh, that’s you had.”
“Yeah, that’s what I had, doofus,” Mike answered as the door clicked closed.
It was barren: there were beds, three desk like surfaces, dressers and something that could pass as a rug. The sheets and pillows looked ‘hostel-issue’, but I wasn’t going to complain as long as the AC worked.
I laid my backpack on the desk and lifted the duffel onto the bed. I felt bad about Melissa’s bag and shook my head on how we were almost late for bus neither of us bothered to make sure our stuff was loaded up. Perhaps Melissa could borrow some items or maybe Mrs. Humphrey would have Melissa call her dad and then drive back three hundred miles to retrieve the bag.
I unzipped the tip of the bag, and a large black cord poked out.
“What is that? I asked to absolutely nobody as I reached into the bag and my hand touched up against a plastic bag. “What is this?”
I pulled the bag out and saw it was an unopened pack of underwear. Girls’ underwear to be specific.
I dropped that bag on the floor like it was on fire.
“Are those yours?” Chad asked as he saw me jump back.
“Definitely not mine,” I replied as I felt my heart race. “This has to be Melissa’s bag.”
I yanked at the cord and a curling iron flew out of and landed on the bed.
Mike came over and picked up the bag of underwear.
“Are they any used ones in there?” Chad asked as he looked back at the duffel bag.