Chapter Five Lacey
Chapter Five
Lacey
“Let’s do it one more time,” I say to a chorus of groans.
Cheer practice was supposed to end five minutes ago, but if we don’t get this routine memorized tonight, there’s no way we’re going to be ready to perform it at next week’s football game.
Despite their groans, everyone gets into position.
Andie shoots me a reassuring smile as I hit play on the music.
I jog to my spot in time to join in on the third count.
The squad picked the song, a popular rock song from the ’90s that has been done by a million other squads before but somehow remains a fan favorite.
It’s fast, which means our movements need to be quick and clean.
I love cheerleading, but dancing is not my favorite part. But what I do love is the tumbling passes, which I get to do several of in this number. My body floods with adrenaline as I prepare to take off.
Roundoff, whip, two back handsprings into a back tuck, finishing with a layout step out. It’s not the hardest pass I can do, but it works well with the music.
When I finish, my heart is racing, and I’m smiling even though there’s no one watching us.
The football guys are on the other side of the field, but we’re such a permanent fixture, they don’t even notice us anymore.
That and if they get caught not paying attention, they have to duck walk the length of the football field. Challenging and they look ridiculous.
I barely catch my breath before the next tumbling pass is up. I have to make my way to the center of the squad for the final pose of the routine. It’s all over in less than three minutes, but it takes hours to get our timing perfect.
“Good job,” I say, still sucking in air. “See you all tomorrow.”
I fall into step next to Andie as we walk off the field.
“How’d it look?” I ask her. I record everything to dissect later, but she has a better view of the rest of the squad while I’m tumbling.
She pulls her dark red hair down from its ponytail. “The last fifteen seconds were better this time, but the middle section was off.”
“I think it’s the herkie. We might have to swap it for a toe touch.”
She hums her agreement, and we take a seat on the grass just beyond the field.
“How’s your wrist?” I ask as I grab my water bottle.
She turns it in a circle as if checking. A couple of weeks ago she sprained it during a toss. She’s one of the best spotters on the team, so having her injured is a big loss. Also, I just love her. We’ve been friends since junior high and cheering together just as long.
“Better. Hopefully by Homecoming I’ll be good to go.”
I cross my fingers on one hand and show her.
We sit back, neither of us in a particularly big hurry to leave. I always wait until the rest of the squad is gone in case anyone needs anything and because going home is too quiet. Dad will still be working for another few hours at least.
I like being at school. I guess that wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who’s met me. Some people are so not into the whole scene, and I get it. School spirit and sitting around learning all day isn’t for everyone, I suppose, but I feel at home here.
Knowing my mom walked these same halls and looked out onto this exact football field probably has something to do with it.
I feel her here so strongly sometimes. And then there are all the great things that have happened to me here, too.
I met Claire and Andie, became a cheerleader and then captain of the team.
I have so many fond memories of this place, and I can’t wait to make a million more.
Andie’s reason for hanging back is less about loving school and more about loving her boyfriend, Brandon. He plays hockey, and their practice ends thirty minutes after ours, so it’s pretty common for the two of us to sit and chat after.
Today I’m particularly thankful for it. Ever since my awkward encounter with Vaughn this morning I’ve felt off.
“Speaking of Homecoming, any date hopefuls for the dance?” Her eyes light up at the possibility.
“Are you kidding?” I let out a small snort. “Why would I go with a date and risk having a terrible time when I can go by myself and just have fun with my friends?”
She laughs along like she agrees, but I know she doesn’t quite understand that fear when she’s been part of a happy couple for so long.
It isn’t like I don’t want to go on dates or have a boyfriend, but my attempts at both have been pretty disappointing.
“Okay, but we should get together before the dance and take pictures. We said we were going to do it last year and didn’t. All I have are a couple blurry photos I took during the dance.”
“We should,” I say and my mom’s bucket list springs to mind. Number fourteen: have a photo shoot with friends. I’m blatantly ignoring number twelve: get asked to go to the homecoming dance.
Since I found the list, I keep going back to it. She loved it here too. She wanted to make memories before she left. And so do I. So many more memories.