And really, it is just about the worst sport she can imagine. Skimpy outfits, dumbass footballers, and a big team of girls who think anyone with personality is a fag.
Not that they're wrong there, of course. But after a whole lot of drama and a good beating at her last school, Missy's sure she can pretty much give up any hope in that area. The plan is simple: join the gymnastics team, find a guy who's not so much of an ass, hope he listens when you tell him you're Catholic. It's an idea that's nearly foolproof, and it lasts for the whole of their two-hour car ride before being promptly shattered by the news that Rancho Carne high school has no gymnastics team.
"But our cheerleading team is excellent," says the principal, "I'm sure you could try out!" She knees Cliff under the table when she hears him snicker and tells the teacher sure, why not. Here’s to new experiences, here's hoping they don't turn into a repeat of old ones.
He ends up getting the receptionist to give her a recording of one of their latest cheerleading competitions. The cover looks straight out of the '90s, adding to her growing concern that the cheerleading team might be the best thing about the place ‐ not exactly what you'd call a good sign, but whatever. She kicks Cliff off the computer that night so she can watch it, and though she wouldn't ever be caught dead admitting to it, they really are as good as she's been told.
One girl in particular catches her eye ‐ a blonde positioned near the middle of the group. They're all good, but there's something about her that seems different, some kind of energy she's got that could pull in anyone watching. That's all it is, she tells herself, not attraction. She's more Cliff's type than she is hers, and besides; even if the first part of her plan has been thrown off course, the second part is an absolute requirement. It's not like it matters anyway, in a team that size. She'll probably never have to speak to her.
Cliff shows up to take back the computer after that, so she goes upstairs, listens to the radio and lays in bed. She wonders, just for a second, how much better her life could have been if she didn't like girls. What she would have been like. Without the bullying, without the failed relationships with guys she could barely stand to look at, let alone fuck; it would have been so much easier, but even still, she wouldn't wish to change it. That's what it really is that separates her from her peers, she thinks. She won't ever wish to be something she's not, no matter how long she has to pretend to be.
She flips the radio back off and climbs out of bed. It's not completely dark out yet, but the lobby is already cool, and feels like it echoes as she picks up her jacket off the coathook and steps out the door.
It's a nice house, nice neighbourhood. She doesn't know if she likes the new house more than the old ones yet. There's no bad memories here yet; but there's no good memories either, and it feels like living in a hotel. Her favorite house will always be the one she grew up in, but it had been torn down some time last year, and even if it hadn't been she couldn't have visited anyway. She misses it though. The houses here are nice, but there's not personality behind them. It's like being some kind of Stepford wife, that's what it is; like they'll all be whisked away after a month, and replaced with beautiful smiling blonde cheerleaders, ones with the kind of energy that could pull in anyone watching. Whatever. The wind picks up a bit, blows a little spiral of leaves towards her. It's colder outside now, and smells like it's about to rain, and Missy's not thinking about anyone at all.
She can't stop thinking about him.
She knows she should be more trusting, she really does, but she can't help it. It's a new experience for him, with new challenges, new stresses, and new girls ‐ a bad combination, for sure. She doesn't think he's cheated on her before ‐ ignoring that thing with Big Red last year, let bygones be bygones and all that ‐ but she worries anyway. Plus, if they did break up, getting a new boyfriend senior year would be nigh impossible. Most of the couples in her grade act like legality is the only reason they're not married with three children already, so excluding the miracle of a hot new senior who likes her enrolling, she's pretty much screwed.
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