Chapter 12
Serena
I swear Allison Castillo owes me big time.
How I let this girl talk me into joining cheer after I swore it off… we’ll never know.
I toss my bag in my assigned gym locker and shut the door. I suck in a deep breath for three seconds, just like I practiced in therapy. I got to practice early because of the student athlete privileges we get, so I was able to leave the tutoring center early, with Tyler walking me to the gym.
I can’t help but wonder if there was something more to him other than him being my classmate and someone I’m tutoring. Maybe we could be friends? Yeah, friends–just friends. I could use a friend like him. It’s a part of my bucket list anyway.
But that’s as far as I’m willing to go. A simple friendship. I’m not ready for anything beyond that. I’ve tried dating someone once and it failed miserably. Don’t even get me started on my abandonment issues. I need to build up my defensive walls, protect my heart, and make sure it’s locked up tight, the key thrown far away.
“Get out of your head. You’ll be fine.” Alli points out, standing beside me while fixing her ponytail. She places both hands on my shoulders, leading me out to the main gym. “Come onnnn.”
By force, she walks me inside, where some teammates are already lingering before practice starts. We walk over to the cheer mat where Grant is in the middle of stretching his arms.
“Sup, chicas.” Grant greets the both of us, smiling proudly. “You ready, Serena?”
I make use of the time and lower myself down to begin stretching my legs out. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
As I’m stretching, I use the moment to survey my surroundings. Some teammates are sitting on the bleachers talking amongst themselves. Others are stretching on the cheer mat, gearing up for practice.
“Did you have a hard time finding the gym? I know it’s a little confusing with all the construction going on.”
I don’t mention Tyler walking me here, so I keep my response simple. “I was fine. It’s a bit confusing that the school has multiple gyms. Like, what is that?” I nudge my chin upwards, indicating the open top floor above us .
“Oh, that? That’s the weight room.” Grant follows my eyes and snaps his fingers to the top floor. “We used to have mini-gyms around the campus for different teams like us, but they’re doing renovations on ours, which is why we’re in the main gym until further notice. Most of the entrances are blocked, so the only route to the weight room is through the main gym, up the bleachers, and through those doors.” He points towards the corner of the bleachers, where you can see dark navy blue doors with our school’s mascot, Viking, stamped on them.
“It’s a cool spot, the upper level with the fence railing. Coach likes to watch the routine from above, and even during basketball games, students watch from up there.”
I offer a subtle nod, taking a look around me. The rest of the team is pouring in now from the main doors, with Coach Miller following behind with her binder and whistle looped around her neck.
I love my godmother. Like my Aunt Lina, she’s been there through it all for me.
I used to find it hard to open up to Aunt Lina and my father when he was still alive, which is why I’m so close with my godmother. I’m not sure why. It must be the stigma behind being first generation born in an Asian household that adds another weird layer to our family relationship. In our family, love is often shown through actions and gestures rather than words .
My dad fell into that bandwagon. He never said I love you to me. He expressed it by giving me a plate of fruit or popping into my room with a bowl of ice cream on my desk after a fight.
Back then, I didn’t really think much about it. I just appreciated the gesture. But now, as I’m getting older, I realize how much those little things really meant to me.
A loud clap of hands shakes me out of my head.
“Alright, gather around the team.” Coach Miller booms. Everyone inches around her, as she stands with hands on her hips. “We have a lot of work to do today because of the reformations we did last week. So, we’re going to make this quick.” She gestures a hand towards me in the back of the crowd. “This is Serena, our new teammate. She will be filling in for both Imogen and Alli’s tumbling parts. I expect everyone, and I mean everyone , to be kind and lend a helping hand as we’re still trying to figure things out.”
“Yes, coach.” The team says in unison. Some are offering a friendly smile and a wave, here and there. But others are just staring at me, soaking up the new person’s presence.
“I heard she made the team because the coach is her godmother.”
I whip my head so fast to my right as soon as I heard that. I see quiet snickers from Cassie and a girl with wavy auburn hair standing next to her, head down as she quietly laughs along with her.
Cassie catches me staring and shrugs like I didn’t hear what she just said. Coach is too busy running down the new formations for the basket tosses so I make it quick. I flip Cassie off with my middle finger and return my attention back to the front. I can hear Cassie gasp at my silent clapback.
I’m a lot older now so I refuse to be the same little girl who couldn’t handle her bullies. I can hold my ground now.
Coach Miller claps her hands once again. “Let’s start. If you’re in the basket tosses, get to the center.”
Everyone disperses, heading over to the center. I grip Alli’s elbow, “Where do you want me? I’m not in the basket toss.”
Alli sent me a few practice videos over the weekend, to familiarize myself with formations, timing, and where I fit into this chaos.
“Just take a seat on the side for now. We’ll move to tumbling towards the end of practice.”
I do as told, moving to the side of the mat and plopping myself down. I lean back in my position, both hands laid flat behind me. I watch my new team gather around in the center, groups separating amongst themselves for the basket tosses. There are a few people who aren’t involved sitting with me or standing in the back for moral support .
Once practice officially starts, my eyes are fixed on the center, where the team is gearing up for basket tosses. I watch my friend Alli in dead center being elegantly tossed in the air, only to perfectly land in the arms of her base group.
Perfect form as always.
In the next rounds of tosses, I observe the other four top girls. Two of them are slightly sloppy in their landing, their base groups struggle a bit but manage well. Practice is what they need to hit everything and then it’s smooth sailing.
One girl in the basket toss formation is scrambling. I watch the girl, who I recognize to be Cassie, in the group on the right of Alli struggling–for a lack of better words. The team counts down and executes the toss, but it’s so clear that Grant and Alli’s words from earlier are true about her skills.
Cassie’s body struggles in the air, her limbs flailing as she fights to regain control. Tension is in the air as her teammates on the ground clench their fists, urging her to stay steady.
A few more rounds pass by and Cassie’s struggles are becoming more evident. Beads of sweat run down her forehead, and her voice shakes as she tries to match the rhythm of the catches.
I can see she’s a hard worker. Her face has a mixture of fear and determination to execute all the motions. I might have just flipped her off but at the end of the day, it’s a team effort and I can’t help but cheer her on and admire her dedication to mastering those basket tosses.
“You got it, Cass!” I shout from my spot, in an attempt to lift up everyone’s spirits.
Cassie looks confused with me encouraging her. I would be confused too but teamwork makes the dreamwork. Coach Miller blows the whistle, snapping everyone’s attention to her. Hands-on her hips, “Great work, everyone. We’ll work on the basket tosses more throughout the season and we’ll even try to do them at next week’s first home game.”
Everyone nods in acknowledgment, panting and wiping their foreheads with their hands or the ends of their t-shirts.
Coach continues, “We have about twenty minutes left, I want everyone to get in line so we hit the ground for running and tumbling.” Coach walks away towards the bleachers and pulls out her phone. She taps on her screen for a bit and music envelopes the gym.
Starships by Nicki Minaj blares throughout which signals all of the team to get in line towards the back end of the mat to run and tumble. I linger towards the back with Alli and Grant joining, both looking ridiculously tired as beads of sweat drip down.
I pat both their shoulders, “You guys did great,” I compliment .
Grant angles his head towards me and lowers his voice so only Alli and I can hear, “It would be even better if Cassie can fucking fly in the air not looking like a fish out of water.”
Alli pokes her head out, brows snapped together. “Grant, we’re at practice. Keep it down.”
“Like you weren’t just complaining about her,” Grant retorts.
I wave a hand between the two’s stare-off. “Okay, let’s not do this. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Alli shakes her head and reverts her eyes to mine. “Right, this is a tumble drill. You throw whatever, it can be simple or hard, doesn’t matter. We all encourage each other by saying hit, hit, and hit.”
My eyes survey the current tumbler on the mat who is pulling a round-off back handspring with surrounding teammates, shouting words of encouragement to boost the person’s confidence for full execution.
“Ah, I see.”
“Don’t be nervous, just do whatever here. Coach doesn’t care.”
I give a silent agreement by shaking my head. I listen to Grant and Alli talk about homecoming that’s coming up in a few weeks. I listen casually, not offering much value to the conversation as I’m just waiting for my turn and leaving practice.
“Yeah, so I’m definitely in the homecoming court,” Alli coos, “I’m excited!”
“But who’s going to be leading us at the game? You’re going to be on the field and the stands.”
“I haven’t decided yet, I’ll ask the coach,” Alli explains. I tune out from their nonsense banter about who Alli’s homecoming date should be, only to mindlessly eavesdrop on another conversation in front of me.
“So, you’re getting back with Tyler?” the same auburn haired girl, Bella, asks.
“Not official yet,” Cassie responds, fixing up her hair. “We’re working on some things.”
I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, it’s not right. I mean, technically, I accidentally overheard their conversation. We’re in a public space for one.
I watch Cassie march up to the mat, ready to go full send. She, too, throws a round-off back handspring–which is considered intermediate in my opinion–but I can see Cassie stumble on her landing as it’s wobbly and not balanced. She doesn’t show her frustration, but I can tell she wants to scream, just like anyone would .
My eyes wander around, leading me to glance up at the top level of the gym. A familiar figure leans against the rails, observing our practice.
I overhear Bella call out for Cassie, jutting her chin upwards. “Looks like he’s watching.”
A small part of me is hoping what I accidentally overheard isn’t true. I mentally kick myself because I shouldn’t be thinking about that at all. I mean, it shouldn’t matter if they’re getting back together. Tyler’s not mine .
“Earth to Serena?”
My eyes dart back to Alli and Grant who are staring at me.
“Can you repeat that?”
Alli eyes me from head to toe but chooses to not call me out on why I wasn’t listening. “I asked if you needed a ride home after the home game next week.”
I clear my throat, “No, it’s fine. I have to face my fears about driving at some point.”
Alli and Grant share a side glance with each other, but I see it and know what they’re thinking. Grant doesn’t say anything and lets Alli speak for both of them. He walks up to the mat for his turn, leaving her and I.
“I’ll be fine. I drove to school this morning. It’s progress. ”
Alli breathes softly, “That’s good. But you know you can ask me anytime if you need a ride.”
Alli recently moved so we no longer live five minutes apart, but now a whopping twenty minutes away. My house would be on the way to basically anywhere but now that she’s living farther out, it doesn’t make sense for her to backtrack to my house just to give me a ride.
I shake my head, refusing. “It’s fine. I got it.”
I try to convince myself to get over the fear little by little. It’s like if I get behind the wheel, I have to pep talk myself to get on the road for ten minutes. This morning, for example, I drove to school. It may have taken me double the time to get here and drove five below the speed limit, but progress is progress and my therapist thinks so too.
Thankfully, it’s my turn to take the mat, marking our conversation as complete and freeing me from Alli’s insistence.
I take my place, standing at the edge of the mat. With a deep breath, I lock in. Taking my first step, I build momentum with every stride, and I feel my confidence soar. I hear the collective support of my team pushing me forward–cheering me on. As I leap into the air, I execute a flawless full whip, my surroundings around me becoming a blur. Then, in a split second, I complete the second full rotation, landing with grace and precision .
I stroll over to Grant, who is clapping and still cheering me on. He lifts a hand, an open invitation for a high five. “Damn, girly. I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you could tumble like that.”
I return the high five and stand next to him as we watch Alli throw a round-off handspring full. “Just your average cheer rat.”
From my peripheral vision, I can see Cassie shooting me a brief glance in disbelief. “Show off.” She whispers to Bella, covering her mouth.
Coach blows the whistle once Alli finishes her move with flawless precision as always, calling for us to bring it in. “Alright, practice is over. We’ll meet again on Wednesday and work on basket tosses and the stunts I added.” The team pans out, leaving to grab their things from the locker rooms.
I do my own thing since Alli hangs back with Coach Miller to talk about the routine. I gather my things from my locker and start freshening up, so I don’t smell like complete sweat.
Cassie is only a few feet away, but she doesn’t look at me, well, it doesn’t look like she’s talking about me. I remove the hair tie from my hair, letting my hair fall down to my shoulders. I wrap the hair tie over my wrist and start picking it off and on my wrist to calm my nerves. I grab my things and head out to the parking lot, car keys in hand.
Day one of high school cheerleading and I don’t know if I love it or hate it.