Part of me has always been jealous of her. I’ve seen her transform from a timid girl into this confident powerhouse. I’ve been there for all her milestones. The first school dance, her first date, her first boyfriend, and even when her cheerleading team won a state championship trophy. I’ve practically seen her life story unfold before my eyes, including some pretty personal moments. And then there’s me on the sidelines.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m genuinely happy for her. She deserves all the success and happiness in the world. But at the same time, I can’t help but crave those experiences for myself. It’s like watching someone else live the life you’ve always dreamed of, and it’s bittersweet.
Using one foot against the other, I remove my shoes. I place myself at the very corner of the mat and tune out the world.
Breathe.
I get a head start and run across the mat. In the blink of an eye, I toss my body in the air. I launch into a full whip, and my body turns into a hurricane of controlled power and agility. Every muscle in my body is in perfect harmony in a rapid series of twists and flips. When I tumble, I don’t think about anything. I black out like a college student tossing a shit ton of Fireball shots. I tunnel vision as if I’m a car driving through a dark tunnel. The epitome of no thoughts.
Once I land on the opposite side, I revert back to reality and see Alli, who claps her hands slowly. “Slay.”
I flip my hair and give her a sly smirk. “Thanks.”
I breathe deeply once and look around, realizing I am fine. No trauma coming up being back in the cheer gym that started it all. But I’m not going to sugarcoat it either, it isn’t particularly a place of fond memories.
When I first entered Cheer for Kiddos, I jumped around and did whatever my coaches told me to do. As time passed, my talents on the mat were clear as day, and I found myself excelling far beyond my peers. Whether it was as the center flyer, mastering elite tumbling, or taking on the role of the top girl, I tackled it all effortlessly as if I had been born to do this all my life. Anything I did, most girls my age couldn’t do because I was literally, out of their level.
With natural talent, you would think girls would be happy for you and call you a badass. Not in my case. It started with hushed whispers, constant staring, and those annoying moments of finger-pointing when I messed up. I was far from perfect, making mistakes like any other girl on the team. I hated it all. A botched and sloppy landing ruined the whole thing and the instant blames were placed on me.
It only got worse when I turned thirteen. It only took two months into the All-Star season that I quit and walked away from it all. The girls on the team hated me for just being good. It wasn’t like I was trying to be a show-off or cocky about it. The girls who hated me stuck together and spread rumors about me that eventually got around to my middle school. I was the laughingstock every morning, to the point Alli had to walk me to the bathroom any time she could because girls would corner me and it fucking sucked.
I dropped out of public school since most of the team went to the same middle school as me. And so I became thehomeschooled girl I hoped everyone would eventually forget about.
I felt so much relief when I found out that Skyline’s student population doubled. What was once the district only having one high school, turned into two high schools to even out the student population. Alli assures me most of them won’t be attending Skyline High, which partially calms me down. On top of that, most of my old teammates moved away, some graduated already, and others dropped out of school entirely.
My aunt likes to call this a sign. A sure sign that this would be my fresh start. I don’t know what I’m hoping for next, but I’m tired of not being the main character in my own story.
Chapter 7
Serena
For the last three years, I never needed to buy new clothes during tax-free weekends,perks of being homeschooled. I do have a few decent items in my closet in case I need to make an appearance somewhere, but most of the time I just go for pajama-looking outfits and avoid shopping at all costs.
I was so stressed at the mall yesterday. Why does a simple shirt have to say “forever young” on the front? Why can’t it be simple? What’s the difference between all these jeans? Alli could see how overstimulated I was at American Eagle, so she offered to pick a few things out for me. So, I let her. Anything to put me out of my misery. Buying new clothes a day before school was one less thing to worry about.
After spending my entire paycheck at the mall, she begged me to choose my first-day outfit. I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed she went all motherly-like like all moms do when it’s their children’s first day of school.
As I’m standing in front of my mirror, I regret my decision to let Alli pick out my outfit for my first day. The ensemble consists of a black, button-up corduroy mini dress paired with a white, short-sleeved undershirt. It reaches about mid-thigh level, but I swear if I bend over, it’s a free show.
I let out a massive sigh to calm my nerves. Fuck it, it’s fine. I’ve worn shorter things because of cheer. Then again, I was seven, and everything was small on me.
It’s a cute outfit for sure, but not what I expected to wear. I’m normally a casual dresser not a ’put on a dress regularly’ person. I take another twirl in front of the mirror and accept it. It’s my first day, I might as well look nice. I touch up my hair for any last-minute knots and fix up the curtain bangs that I styled earlier for good measure.
A knock at my door disturbs my peace. “Ready?” Jared leans against my door frame, noticing my outfit.
You wouldn’t guess we’ve been siblings for years. With bright blue eyes just like Ralph’s, a decent smile when he decides to not frown in public, and dirty blonde hair that’s slightly damped from a morning shower, there was absolutely nothing that would tell you we’re related.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” He asks, protectiveness dripping in his voice. “You’re seriously wearing that?”
I roll my eyes as I grab my school bag to do a last-minute check for everything I’ll need for the day.
There are moments where Jared and I are still navigating our brother-and-sister relationship, but after years of living together, there’s one thing that’s certain: the overprotective brother syndrome. No cure in the making. “If I hear anyone making a pass at you, I’m bringing you gym clothes to change into.”
“I got it, I got it.” I throw my backpack on. “Let’s go, Alli says she’s going to wait for me at the school entrance.”
Multiple thoughts run in my head as Jared drives us to school. My fucking first day. I only know two people at Skyline. Alli and Jared. It seems unlikely that we’ll have every class together, let alone lunch.
Oh God, what if I don’t have lunch with anyone I know? Will I have to eat in the bathroom stalls like Cady from Mean Girls?
