Page 25 of The Cheerleader

“You under-rotated.” Liz pulls me up off the ground and gives me more instructions. There’s no question that I’m going to try it again—and again.

Turns out the third time is the charm, and I get the benefit of the entire cheering squad yelling and jumping up and down, cheering for me.

Laughing, I join them in the celebration, jumping up and down myself.

“Three more times,” Liz says. “You need to land on your feet at least three times in a row before you’ve officially got it.”

I doubt that’s a rule, but I go along with it, suddenly confident that I can do it with no problem.

Three more quick jumps onto the mini tramp and up into front somersaults later, and I was right. My sense of accomplishment is exhilarating. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this.

“Wow, you’re a natural,” Carol says. “It took me a dozen tries last year. Maybe more.”

Josh says, “At least you finally got it. I’m still working on it.” He laughs.

He points over my shoulder. “Looks like we have company.”

I turn and see a man with a camera hanging around his neck striding in our direction with purpose.

“He must be here to photograph the team,” I say, dismissing him.

“Nope.”

I turn back, and sure enough, he’s veering in our direction as he lifts his camera and points it in our direction. It’s a first for me, to have some professional photographer interested in what I’m doing.

Liz spots him and blows her whistle. “Line up, everyone. Photographer.”

That’s all she says, and the girls scamper into place. I follow along, trying to keep up, but Liz and the other experienced girls know exactly what to do. Within three seconds, we fall into our two-row lineup for a pose.

The man gives the okay sign and clicks away on his camera from different angles. It only takes a minute before he finishes and thanks us. Then he moves on to where the football team is practicing twenty or thirty yards away.

“Who was that?” I ask Liz after he’s gone.

She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. If we see a camera aimed at us, we smile and pose. It’s part of our job to represent the university. Though it mostly happens at games.”

She yells out, “Time for a break.” We sit on the grass near the ten-yard line, a distance from the action, and watch the team practice. As far as I can see, they haven’t taken any breaks.

Liz had the guys pack the cooler with a carton of orange juice along with the soda and ice. They brought it to the field while we were at practice with the marching band, so it’s all probably warm by now. But we’re all so thirsty, no one complains.

She pours out cups of orange juice, but I grab another Pepsi and take a long gulp.

Josh grabs a Pepsi too. I like him, the way he always cracks up at his own jokes, always grinning like he’s saving the funniest lines for himself.

“You really enjoy cheering, don’t you?” I sit down next to him.

“I can’t help myself. I’d be yelling and jumping around in the stands, annoying everyone around me if I didn’t join the cheering squad.”

I smile. “I can tell your enthusiasm is genuine. You’re a real football fan.”

“At the risk of sounding arrogant, I’m something of an expert.” He elbows me. “Ask me anything.”

I lean in and lower my voice. “Is it obvious I know nothing about the game?”

He nods, grinning.

“Then I’m lucky I have you for a football tutor.” I think I’ll feel comfortable asking him what’s going on because he won’t make me feel stupid or silly. He’ll just explain it so I can understand it.

“But don’t tell anyone I’m a football dunce,” I add.