A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love (7 page)

BOOK: A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love
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“I think it’s safe to say that cheerleading is not going to be anyone’s top priority this season,” Tara said, facing forward again.

 

 

“It’ll be mine,” Jaimee protested earnestly.

 

 

Just then, K. C. Lawrence and a couple of his friends from the wrestling team walked through the door, all slick and freshly showered after practice.

 

 

“Omigod! K. C. Lawrence,” Jaimee said, reddening. “Let me out,” she said to Phoebe.

 

 

Phoebe simply stared at her. “Hello, one-eighty.”

 

 

“Come on! Come on! Let me out!” Jaimee pleaded.

 

 

Ever so slowly—and just to torture Jaimee—Phoebe pushed herself out of the booth and stepped aside so that Jaimee could scramble over to K.C.’s table. Two seconds after she arrived there, Sage, Lindsey and Chastity were there as well, crowding in with the guys, giggling at their jokes. Phoebe sat back down with a huff.

 

 

“Yeah. Her mind’s on cheerleading,” Tara said.

 

 

“It’s like they’re all groupies or something,” I put in.

 

 

Over in the corner Terrell cheered some stupendous achievement of pinball primacy and a few of the girls squealed in delight. Somehow I had never before realized exactly how boy-crazy some of my squad mates were. And if the eighteen girls on the squad starting going after the four guys on the squad, things were not going to be pretty. And none of them better even
think
about going after
my
man, ’cause then I’d have to get medieval on these blondes.

 

 

Sorry. Jealousy-induced brain spasm.

 

 

Anyway, there could be a lot of rifts in the making around here. Maybe Tara was right. Maybe we had just welcomed the perfect poison onto the squad.

 

 

But then I heard Daniel laugh, and when I turned around and saw his heart-stopping smile, I knew everything was going to be fine. How could a person that perfect be poison? We would figure this thing out. It was just going to take some time, some adjustment.

 

 

This coed squad thing was going to be great.

 

 

 
“And now . . . coming to the center mat . . . wrestling at one hundred fifty pounds . . . give it up, Sand Dune fans, for your very own K! C! Lawrence!!!”

 

 

I jumped to my feet with the rest of the SDH crowd to shout for K.C., waving one of the blue-and-yellow mini-poms the spirit club had handed out before the meet. As K.C. made his way to the center mat to meet his opponent, he looked almost Cro-Magnon. The tightness of his blue jumpsuit made his arms look huge and his head and mouth guards distorted his features. At the other end of the bleachers the Clearwater High School fans booed his arrival. Then
we
booed
them.
Down below, K.C. didn’t seem to notice any of it. He shook hands with the stout, crew-cut-sporting opponent and smiled through the plastic in his mouth.

 

 

“Do you miss it?” I asked Daniel as we sat.

 

 

He lifted his shoulders. “A little. But it was a lot of pressure, being out there one-on-one against someone else,” he said. “I think I’m more of a team player.”

 

 

“Me too,” Mindy said. She scrunched the strands of her mini-pom between her palms to fluff it up. “That’s why cheerleading tryouts always freaked me out. Being out there alone?” She gave a little shudder.

 

 

“Totally,” Daniel agreed.

 

 

“Shh!” Bethany scolded from Mindy’s far side. “I’m trying to concentrate!”

 

 

Behind us, Jaimee, Chandra and Autumn laughed, and as the ref blew the whistle to start the match, I could barely contain my glee. This was so great, being here with my friends and my boyfriend, sucking in all the kinetic, competitive energy in the air. Even if that air was a tad moist and sour with the stench of twenty years’ worth of stale sweat. The Clearwater High gym could have used a little more ventilation, that’s all I’m sayin’.

 

 

But no matter. It wasn’t like it was keeping anyone away. The stands on our side were awash in light blue and yellow while the Clearwater stands were a sea of dark blue and white. Everyone on either side sat forward, eager to see K.C., the famous Junior Olympian, in action. It was one of those perfect movie moments. Those moments I resolved to take a mental snapshot of and remember forever.

 

 

Down below, K.C. and crew-cut boy crouched and faced each other, circling the center of the mat as they assessed the competition. They circled. And circled. And circled. But no one seemed eager to make the first move. I could feel the people around me growing more and more restless.

 

 

“Why doesn’t K.C. do something?” I whispered to Daniel. Wrestling was not a sport I knew much about.

 

 

“He likes to let the other guy take the plunge,” Daniel whispered back. “That’s just his style. But it looks like this kid knows that.”

 

 

“Come on! Grab him already!” Bethany shouted.

 

 

A bunch of people laughed and at that moment, K.C. lunged forward. A few people gasped as he upended crew-cut boy and sent him sprawling on the ground. I wasn’t sure if Bethany’s shout had momentarily distracted K.C.’s opponent, but whatever the case, K.C.
had
made the first move and had gotten the upper hand. Within two seconds he had crew-cut boy tangled into a pretzel.

 

 

There was an audible crack of joints and the crowd responded with a group wince.

 

 

“Yeah. That I don’t miss,” Daniel said, grinding his teeth.

 

 

“I don’t think I could have handled watching you do this,” I said.

 

 

Daniel nodded. “Cheerleading was definitely the better option.”

 

 

I smiled. It was nice to hear him say that. Especially after that whole megaphone-on-the-jacket thing. I slipped my hand into Daniel’s as, down below, the ref slammed the mat with his palm.

 

 

“Pin! Sand Dune! Win! Sand Dune!”

 

 

The crowd went nuts. All the Sand Dune High fans in attendance jumped to their feet. I was a little slower on the uptake. I grabbed Daniel’s arm and hoisted myself up.

 

 

“What just happened?” I asked, trying to see over the heads of the people in front of me. A few fists were raised in the air, but I couldn’t tell who they belonged to.

 

 

“K.C. just won,” Daniel told me as he applauded.

 

 

My brow knit. “Just like that?”

 

 

“He’s that good,” Daniel responded.

 

 

“Oh.”

 

 

Everyone sat down again and I felt a little deflated. That hadn’t been all that exciting. Where was the drama? The struggle?

 

 

“They didn’t even grunt once,” Bethany said morosely, echoing my thoughts.

 

 

K.C. slapped hands with a few guys on the bench and suddenly I got an idea. An idea that perked me up considerably.

 

 

“Hey. You ready to put your money where your mouth is?” I asked Daniel, nudging his leg.

 

 

“What do you mean?” he said.

 

 

“I mean, you’re a cheerleader now. It’s time to start acting like one.”

 

 

“But . . . the match is over,” Daniel replied, gesturing at the empty mat. “They’re on a break.”

 

 

“Yeah, but K.C. deserves our appreciation, don’t you think?” Mindy asked, getting the drift.

 

 

“Little K.C. chant?” I suggested, glancing at Autumn, Chandra and Jaimee behind us.

 

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

 

“Aw, yeah,” Chandra said.

 

 

“What’re you doing?” Daniel asked, blanching.

 

 

“You’re doing it too,” I told him.

 

 

Together, Mindy, Chandra, Jaimee, Autumn and I started to chant, “K.C.!” Two claps. “K.C!” Two claps. “K.C.!” Two claps. “K.C.!” Two claps.

 

 

Chandra stood up and dragged me to my feet from behind. She turned around and gestured to the crowd as she chanted, urging them to their feet. I pulled on Daniel’s jacket until he was forced to get up off his butt too. Bethany, of course, sank lower in her seat and hid her face with her hand.

 

 

“K.C.!”

 

 

Bam, bam.

 

 

“K.C.!”

 

 

Bam, bam.

 

 

Soon we had managed to bring most of the Sand Dune crowd into it. At first Daniel was a reluctant participant, but he started to grin when some other guys joined in and he gradually grew louder and louder.

 

 

“K.C.!” we shouted, laughing. “K.C.!”

 

 

Higher up in the stands, Tara, Phoebe, Whitney, Felice and Erin joined in. Then the other girls on the squad, peppered throughout the stands, got their neighbors into it as well.

 

 

As we chanted, K.C. turned bright red on the bench. He shook his head and grinned, trying to ignore us, but we made it completely impossible. The Clearwater guys looked up at us in irritated awe, but we just kept chanting and chanting and chanting. Finally, K.C. stood up and raised his arm to the crowd sheepishly. Everyone cheered and shouted and stomped.

 

 

“Thanks. Thank you,”
K.C. mouthed, waving.

 

 

Then, finally, he dropped back on the bench again and ducked his head. I would have felt bad for him if he wasn’t grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning.

 

 

“Now, if I had ever gotten
that
kind of reaction, I would probably miss wrestling more,” Daniel said as we sat down and the crowd finally quieted.

 

 

“See? It’s fun, right?” I said. “Making people feel that good?”

 

 

Daniel grinned. “I could get used to it.”

 

 

I smiled triumphantly at Mindy. We were going to turn this kid into a real cheerleader yet.

 

 

5

 

 

The basketball teams had Mondays off, so we had all gathered in the bleachers of the gym after classes for our first boy-girl practice. We had been sitting there for five minutes or so, gabbing away about our weekend activities, but we all fell silent at Coach’s entrance. Basically because she had the most chiseled man ever to walk the face of the earth trailing behind her.

 

 

At least that was why the girls fell silent.

 

 

“Whoa. Who’s the hottie?” Sage asked.

 

 

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine!” Coach Holmes announced as the pair stopped in front of us. “This is Coach Rincon.”

 

 

“How is everyone today?” Rincon said, clasping his quite large hands together. Instantly his biceps bulged.

 

 

“Damn,” Chandra muttered.

 

 

I might have echoed that sentiment if Daniel hadn’t been sitting right behind me. Coach Rincon was Calvin Klein model gorgeous, with deeply tan skin, jade green eyes and dimples you could swim in. He had brown hair with golden highlights and long bangs that fell perfectly over his brows. A single diamond stud sparkled in one ear. And his arms? Don’t even get me started. All I’ll say is, that tight T-shirt should have been outlawed on an upper bod like that.

 

 

“Rincon was my stunting partner at Penn State,” Coach said.

 

 

“Lucky girl,” Lindsey whispered, earning a few giggles.

 

 

Rincon winked at her. I was impressed when she didn’t have a heart attack—both from being caught and from being winked at.

 

 

“He has graciously offered to spend the next couple of weeks helping me teach you guys some stunting skills,” Coach continued. “So let’s give him a big Sand Dune welcome.”

 

 

We all applauded and a couple of the girls threw in some hoots and hollers. Rincon placed his hand to his chest and gave an honored little bow.

 

 

“That guy could throw me to France if he wanted to,” Sage said.

 

 

“Why don’t you take a second and let them get to know you?” Coach suggested to her new partner in crime. “I’ve gotta get something from my office.”

 

 

“Sure,” Rincon said with a nod. His nod was even hot. How that’s possible, I have no idea, but I saw it with my own eyes.

BOOK: A Non-Blonde Cheerleader in Love
12.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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