Chapter Seventeen #2
‘You’re athletes, ladies,’ she states as she washes her hands, looking in the mirror. ‘Just like the players. Hell, they couldn’t do what you do.’ When she’s done, she shakes her hands dry, walking backward toward the exit and giving us a wink as she goes.
‘Who was that?’ I ask, because clearly, she was listening in on our conversation.
‘Carlie Kessler,’ Harmony says with a smirk. ‘DJ Stash. Responsible for the entire sound system in the Danube. The one who plays all our music?’
‘Oh. Right,’ I say.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Harmony says. ‘We’re gonna be late.’
Armed with our poms, on the walk from the locker room to the tunnel, we’re escorted by security.
Tonight, I’m consumed with self-doubt, as though somebody’s gonna recognize me as a dancer at Surly’s.
Is it inevitable? That one day they’ll all know.
I have visions of myself in Sam Conway’s office as she fires me when she finds out the truth.
Like Persia, I wouldn’t be allowed back.
I look at the faces of my fellow cheerleaders.
Seems like there are less smiles than on a usual game night.
Like we all know one wrong move could spell the end of our time as CMC.
And that applies to me more than any of them.
The smiles are soon back on our faces though as we begin our set.
Kathleen says that a smile puts the ‘cheer’ in ‘cheerleader’, and that a cheerleader without a smile is like a Christmas tree with no lights, or a cake without icing.
I don’t see it that way. I love how being a cheerleader brings joy to others.
With our smiles, we give others hope, and for just a few minutes, their problems melt away.
We make it okay to believe in something better… to believe in dreams.
When I dance at Surly’s, I take zero satisfaction from it.
But this. Being in front of an entire stadium of people and lifting them up is a buzz like no other. It’s my dream. And it’s bigger than just me. I feel a part of something.
On the field, we dance and flip and high-kick our way through Girls Girls Girls, until the players are welcomed onto the field and we break off into our smaller groups.
I can’t help but look Jake’s way, and every time I do there’s a serious scowl on his face, whether he’s on the bench or making a play.
Tonight, as it turns out, there isn’t much to cheer about.
Game two of the season and the Mutineers are losing.
At the final whistle, the score is seventeen to six to the opposition.
I watch him shake hands with members of the other team, before most of the Mutineers players disappear back down through the tunnel toward the locker room.
‘Well, that sucked,’ Jewel mutters to me as we leave the field, smiling and waving to the thinning crowds as per our contracts. ‘Now we’re stuck with community outreach.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Come on now, Ren, don’t you keep up with the emails? You mean you didn’t sign up to anything?’
‘I’ve been busy, I guess.’
‘The next two games are away games,’ Jewel explains. ‘Meaning, the Mutineers team travels, and we got nobody to cheer for. So, we, you know… head out into the community.’
‘What was I supposed to sign up for?’
‘Visits to old folks nursing homes, being present at opening ceremonies, meeting kids in schools. The sign-up sheet went out a couple’ days ago.’
‘I must have missed that.’
Back in the tunnel, Jewel hooks her arm through mine. ‘Something on your mind?’
‘I’ve been busy is all.’
‘Sign up to the same things as me. Then we can hang out. Us rookies need to stick together. Besides, I wanna know you better, Ren. We can talk about why it is we’re both still single and which boys we like.’
She’s giving me a huge grin. I adore Jewel. We went through all the auditions together. But she’s another person that I can’t give away my secrets to, and it hurts like hell that I have to lie to her.
‘Shame the one I like is off limits,’ she says with a dramatic sigh.
A memory of Jake and I naked and in bed together filters through my mind and I feel the base of my neck warming.
‘God, the sight of his ass in those white pants,’ she giggles. ‘Jake Walsh deserves a medal for that alone. The view from the twenty-five-yard line is pretty sweet on the offensive, lemme tell you.’
I’m grateful for the noise and the hubbub as other CMC members pile into the locker room after the end of the game and Jewel changes the subject.
I want to go home. A little voice tells me to quit, that I can’t keep this up.
That I don’t deserve to be here.
That I’m a liar.
But I look around me. Despite the low pay and all the petty little rules that we’re meant to follow, I love this job. I love how it makes me feel, compared to working at Surly’s and waiting tables at The Bounty. I feel honored to be here. And I earned my spot.
Yet now I’m forced to question which I love more: my membership of the CMC, or being with Jake.
Because whichever way I look at it… I can’t have both.
And I fear time may be running out for me.
‘Hey. How was the game?’
Dad is still up when I get home. He’s got a blanket over his knees.
‘They lost,’ I tell him, and close the front door behind me.
‘Oh. I’m sure you’re very disappointed, sweetie.’
I laugh gently, walk over and run the back of my hand over his forehead, just to check he’s not running a fever. He has a permanent wheeze these days, and quite often, his lips turn blue. ‘Don’t try to convince me you care about football, Daddy.’
‘Give me the World Series over the Super Bowl, any day of the week.’
I tuck his blanket around him, then put my hands on my hips. ‘Did you eat yet?’
‘Patty Mays brought me some leftover lasagna. I left you some in the fridge.’
I think about Mona. I can’t help it. ‘Honestly, I’m not real hungry, Daddy.’
‘You should eat something. You’re working too hard. All for us. It’s my fault. You should be out, having fun, meeting guys… Are you… seeing anyone?’
I feel myself blush. ‘I, uh… it’s nothing. It’s not serious.’
My father’s expression brightens. ‘So, there is somebody.’
‘We’re tryna keep it on the down low, Daddy. It’s not a thing.’
‘What does he do?’
I mean, I can’t say professional football player. ‘He, uh, works at the stadium.’
‘Well, that’s nice. I hope you’ll bring him home one day.’
I adore my Dad, but sometimes he forgets the things I have to do to pay off his debt.
It’s not a selfish thing – he’s wrapped up in his own illness and I think he’s blocked it out of his mind.
Or maybe it’s that he’s unwilling to accept the truth of my situation.
On Sundays, when I’m around, I batch cook food for him to last the entire week, to ensure he never goes hungry.
But the reality is, I’m not here enough for him.
Once I’ve helped him into bed, I head to my room. Exhaustion washes over me. I’ve removed my makeup and I’m wearing my pyjamas, and I’m about to switch out the light when my phone vibrates on the nightstand.
I pause. My gaze flits to the light on the screen. I note, with a touch of disappointment, that it’s not a message on the Jake phone.
I pick up the handset and unlock it, then navigate to my messages.
I’m impatient to see you, Brandy Velvet. You looked so hot in your Mutineers uniform tonight. I’m excited for our next encounter.
Disgusted, I delete the message and toss the phone.
A moment later, the Jake phone vibrates. A message pops up.
Hey there beautiful girl. I have a whole free day tomorrow. I’d love to spend it with you xx
In contrast, Jake’s message makes me smile. But the smile is soon wiped from my face when I think about Persia’s fate, and Sam Conway’s warning earlier this evening. I start typing, a guilty knot in my stomach.
I can’t. I have to work.
Moments after I send the message, he calls me.
‘You work too hard,’ he says, no sooner have I answered. ‘You could take a vacation day?’
‘All my vacation days are booked in advance, and they’re all taken up with CMC activities.’
‘Then how about you call in sick to work? Think of all the fun things we could do at the cabin together.’
‘I… Jake, I can’t. They’re stretched as it is.’
His voice loses its confident, persuasive tone. Instead, it softens. ‘I’ve got two away games coming up. I won’t get to see you. Not as much.’
As much as it pains me to admit it, his absence might make things a little easier on me. I keep coming back to my exit route for this situation. The only way seems to be to break his heart. To pretend that I’ve lost interest, even when I haven’t.
Why can’t I have both?
‘Serenity?’ he says when I say nothing.
A thick layer of anguish lines my stomach. ‘They fired a cheerleader today,’ I tell him.
‘They did?’
‘Persia Takeda.’
‘What they fire her for?’
‘She broke the terms of her contract. She brought the Mutineers brand into disrepute by having her picture taken in a club and drinking alcohol. That’s all she had to do, don’t you see? Jake. I’m having sex. With a Mutineers running back. In secret.’
‘I know,’ is his agonized response. ‘I know you’re the one carrying all the risk here, I know that.’ Except he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know the half of it. How I spend the rest of my time.
Tears come spilling out. Maybe it’s the stress of the past few weeks but I can’t stop the tide.
‘I wanna be with you,’ Jake says. ‘In fact, I can’t stand being away from you. And it’s not just that I’m crazy about you, I’m falling for you, Serenity. But the last thing I wanna do is pressure you into anything.’
I hug my knees and try to get my emotions under control.
‘Forget tomorrow,’ he says. ‘I can be free any night this week. We can talk this through.’
‘I can’t,’ I say, and I get choked up on the lies I keep telling him. ‘I gotta take care of my dad.’
‘Then I can help. Introduce me to your father.’
I want to tell him that I’m not who he thinks I am. Or who he wants me to be. ‘Jake, no. I can’t.’
‘One hour. You can’t spare one hour just to talk to me?’
‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ I choke out.
His voice grows hoarse. ‘Please. Don’t do this.’
‘I’ve done too much already. I’m sorry. I have to go.’
I hang up the phone. There’s a tightness in my chest that makes it harder to breathe. I let the sobs overcome me, and I bury my head in my pillow to muffle the sounds.