Rory
a megaphone for Jacob. “We need to get Jacob used to the environment he’s going to be cheering in. I got the JV team to sit
at the back of the bleachers to make him yell louder.”
“Good call,” Coach said as she shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans with one hand. With the other, she held
you need me, but I have a bunch of papers to grade.”
Coach Maguire was one of the youngest teachers at Woodmont High School and also one of the toughest. She’d actually attended Woodmont High herself, done an accelerated teaching certificate, and landed a job back here by the time she was twenty-four.
She taught honors and AP English classes and assigned essays and papers like she was handing out candy.
Rory had also learned by poring over the old yearbooks in the library that Coach had been captain of the squad her senior year, as well as a member of the French National Honors Society, president of the history club, and salutatorian of her class.
Rory wanted to be just like her. She also loved that Coach let Rory pretty much take the lead in all things, unless Rory really
needed help.
Leading the way out the side door of the school, Rory crossed the grassy area that separated the school from the football
and baseball fields. While the soccer and softball fields were behind the school on level ground, the football field was down
a steep hill with various staircases and walkways giving access. It was circled by the eight-lane running track, flanked by
bleachers and then surrounded by mature trees, all of which were bursting with fall colors. She could hear the marching band
practicing in the parking lot but couldn’t see them, as they were beyond the trees. It was another cool, sunny day, and Rory
found herself walking to the beat of the drumline. She was ready for this. She could whip Jacob into shape in two days and
get him ready for their game against Sunnyvale this weekend. No problem.
She heard the shrieking just before she came to the top of the hill.
“What the?” Coach Maguire said as they both looked down at the track.
The shrieking was coming from Gwen, who was on Carlos’s back as he ran down the track.
Jacob had Maya on his back, who was holding on with one arm locked around his chest. They appeared to be racing, with the added challenge of the girls tossing a pom back and forth between them as the boys ran.
The rest of the team stood near the fence, cheering them on.
Even the football players, who were running drills on the field, had paused to spectate.
Rory saw Jacob’s brother Ford among those cheering Jacob on.
He’d taken his helmet off and was waving it in the air like a pom-pom.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Rory stomped down the stairs as fast as she could go with her oversize bag and huge megaphone. When she got to the bottom,
Jacob, Gwen, Carlos, and Maya were just approaching the turn to her left. She lifted the megaphone and shouted with her best
cheerleader voice.
“Jacob! Carlos! Put the girls down. Now!”
The boys froze, the grins falling off their faces, and dropped their riders to the track. Gwen and Maya smoothed their hair
and looked anywhere but at Rory.
“Get over here,” Rory shouted, now without the megaphone.
The football players laughed as the group walked toward Rory, heads bowed. Rory was practically vibrating with rage by the
time they reached her and Coach.
“Deep breath,” Coach Maguire told Rory. “You don’t want to alienate your new teammate on his first day.”
Rory barely even heard her.
“Do you people not understand how we got in this situation in the first place?” she demanded, throwing a hand toward Jacob. Her voice faltered a bit as she took in the way his ruddy-from-exertion cheeks brought out his eyes.
“Oh, so I’m a situation?” Jacob replied.
“Shhh!” she snapped, scowling at him. “I assume this was your idea?”
He averted his gaze, confirming her suspicion.
“Are you trying to tank my season? You could have tripped and shattered your kneecap! Or dropped Maya and twisted her ankle! Or collided with
Carlos and both of you could have gotten concussions!”
Carlos tilted his head and smiled placatingly. “Come on, Rory, we were just having a little—”
“Four laps!” Rory shouted, making all of them flinch. She turned toward the rest of the squad and raised her voice. “That
goes for all of you! Four laps for egging them on!”
The squad groaned, but they all started jogging. They knew when their captain wasn’t messing around.
But Jacob took a step closer to Rory and said in a low voice, “Come on, Ror. Don’t punish the whole squad. They’re all gonna
hate me now.”
“Well, you should have thought of that before starting out with a dumb stunt like this,” she said. “Now go. Run. At least
it’s something you’re good at, soccer star.”
Jacob glowered at her, took a step back, and started running, quickly catching up with the rest of the team.
“Well, glad I was late,” Layla said, coming up behind Rory and Coach. She held out a plastic cup of iced coffee toward Rory. “Pumpkin spice cold brew. I thought you might need it.”
“Bless you,” Rory said, taking the cup from her. She glanced across the track toward Jacob and the rest of the squad. Ford
and some of the other football players were whooping at Jacob, obviously teasing him for being on cheer. It was going to be
a long afternoon.
“Okay, let’s run it one more time, and then we’ll put it to music,” Rory instructed.
A few of her teammates groaned, but subtly enough that she couldn’t tell who it was and admonish them. It really had been
a long afternoon. For the past two hours, all the squad had done was teach Jacob cheers, spot him on new stunts, and now work
with him to understand that sometimes there were half counts within the eight-count phrases of a dance routine. Jacob, she
had to admit, had been a willing and enthusiastic participant in all of this, but she could tell his energy was flagging.
As was hers and the rest of the team’s. She was going to need to wrap this up quickly before they all got cranky and turned
on her. There was only so much one could accomplish before losing everyone’s focus.
Maybe the four laps to start practice had been a bad idea.
“Okay and five, six, seven, eight!”
She kept counting as the squad moved through the dance portion of the halftime routine.
Jacob had the moves down, but he was a split second behind everyone else and his arms needed work.
He also kept looking around the whole time he was dancing, and she wasn’t sure whether he was checking the rest of the squad to make sure he wasn’t screwing up or looking around to make sure none of his friends was watching. Maybe a little bit of both.
“Stiffen those arms, Reilly!” she shouted. “You have to hit each and every count.”
Whenever she shouted instructions, Layla and Gwen automatically took up the count.
“And kick! Pivot! Arms! Jump!”
The whole squad ended with knees bent, arms at their sides, ready to launch into the final cheer portion of the routine. It
was basically a chant, dance, stunt routine. Nothing hugely complicated. Unless you’d never done a cheer before in your life
and couldn’t seem to kick higher than knee level.
Rory clapped her hands and gave a whoop. “Good job, everyone. Let’s cool down and stretch it out. That’ll be all for today.”
With a universal groan of relief, the squad dropped to the track and automatically extended their left legs out straight, leaning over to stretch their hamstrings.
While Layla and most of the other girls bent fully over with ease, Carlos reached out for his toes, spine still mostly upright.
Jacob, however, could barely reach his shin.
Rory knew the guys were generally less flexible than the girls, but he looked like he was in pain. She walked over and sat next to him.
“Oh, hey there, Captain. You sure you want to sit this close to your situation?” he joked.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “But don’t pull a stunt like that again. I need everyone intact.”
“Switch legs, everyone!” Coach shouted, glancing up from her laptop briefly.
They did, Jacob wincing as he moved.
“Can I ask you a question?” Rory said, eyeing his knee as he tried to straighten his right leg. They really were quite nice
legs. Soccer boy legs.
“Anything for you, oh captain, my captain.”
Rory rolled her eyes. They’d watched Dead Poets Society in English class at the end of last year, and people had been quoting it ever since. Some mockingly, some reverently. Rory
fell more on the reverent side. She’d loved the cozy, old-school vibes of the movie. And the whole “carpe diem” message had
really stuck with her. She was going to be in high school for only two more years, and she wanted to make the most of it.
Ergo, she really needed to win regionals.
“Can you really not kick any higher?” she asked Jacob.
He laughed, and it lit up his entire person. “Rory, I’ve been playing soccer pretty much nonstop for the past six years. My
hamstrings are tighter than a Botoxed face.”
Rory laughed and Jacob grinned in response. He really did love to make people laugh. It wasn’t a bad quality, she supposed, but she wished he didn’t always have to go to such extremes to make it happen.
“Let’s get in butterfly position!” Coach called out.
While Rory easily swung her legs around and pulled her feet up almost to her groin, knees flat on the ground, Jacob’s feet
were well out in front of him, his knees up like bat wings. Apparently, he also had tight hips.
“We’re going to have to loosen you up, Jacob Reilly,” she told him.
“Said no one, ever,” he shot back.
“I definitely don’t mean your attitude,” she replied. “And I may have an idea. . . .”