Page 22 of The Stand-In Boyfriend

More laughter.

What the fuck?

“Hey.” I turn toward and face one of the kickers, who’s still smirking like he’s the shit. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.” I shut my locker, wishing it was his head, the loudsmackechoing through the now quiet locker room as I stare the guy down. “You should remember that before you start talking shit about her.” I let my gaze scan the room. “That goes for everybody.”

Thankfully, the coach enters the room. His bushy brows lift when he finds us in complete silence and half-dressed.

“I’m not even going to ask. Get your asses in gear and I better see you on the field in two minutes. If you come late you’ll be running drills on the bleachers.”

Everybody, me included, does just as Coach said. There isn’t anything worse than running drills on the bleachers. They’re grueling, and most people end up puking before it’s all done.

Without another word, I pull my red practice jersey on and take one last chug of Gatorade before I exit the locker room.

Elliott follows after me, thankfully quiet this time.

The late afternoon sun is shining brightly, blinding me temporarily. I squint, my eyes instantly going to the smaller field next to ours.

The girls are already out there running around the field. My eyes zero in on the brown ponytail swinging from side to side with her every stride.

“Somebody’s got it bad,” Elliott sing-songs, elbowing me in the gut.

I shove him away, which only makes him laugh harder. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, dude.”

* * *

JESSICA

“So this year, I think we should step up our game,” Lisa says animatedly. She would be so much more likable if it weren’t for the fake-ass smile plastered on her lips. Oh, and stealing other people’s fake boyfriends. Can’t forget about that one.

Lisa asked us to stay after practice so we could discuss what our plans are for the upcoming year.

“Since some of us only have one year left—” like her—she’s so obvious “—it would be amazing to go out with abang. To do something different and unique. Diamond was amazing, but she liked things to be…” She stops for a moment, like she’s choosing her words carefully. “A certain way. Nothing wrong with that, but I seriously think we can do better than just dancing and waving our pom-poms.”

“What do you suggest?” somebody from the back asks.

Her smile grows wider. “I think we should try working on more stunts. Flips and throws, stuff like that.”

“Are you for real?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

More questions and murmurs come from all sides, but I stay quiet. For all Lisa’s faults, this actually does sound like fun.

I like dancing, which is part of the reason I joined the team, but Diamond was always trying to over-sexualize everything. It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t get selected the first time I tried out for the team. In Diamond’s words, I didn’t match the look she was going for. I didn’t let it discourage me though. I picked up running, spent more time dancing and even worked on some flips and tumbling of my own.

Last year, the principal got involved because she thought the skirts were too short. Since they showed half my butt cheeks, I don’t think he was wrong. Diamond went ballistic, but the principal was determined so we got skirts that cover our whole butts. Gotta love small miracles.

“Quiet!” Lisa shouts and people actually listen. “I just watched this documentary about a college cheer team on Netflix. I loved the stuff they do, and I figured we should give it a try. We have seven weeks to get ready for the homecoming game. It’ll be more work, but I’m sure we can pull it off. Plus, it would definitely look good on your college applications. I’m sure at least some of you would like to continue cheering at the college level, right?”

Girls around me start discussing it. I watch my teammates, their faces varying from excited to worried, until my gaze lands on Tammy. My lips press in a tight line as her bright eyes catch mine, her face falling as she sees me looking at her. She pleads with me silently from a distance but I avert my gaze, shutting her out. I haven’t seen her or talked to her since that day, and I’m not planning to change that anytime soon.

Try ever.

A loud clapping makes everybody settle down. We all turn to look at Miss Lopez, our music teacher and cheer coach. “Lisa came to me with this idea even before school started. I really think we could give it a try—of course, only if you girls want it. Why don’t you sleep on it, maybe try to see what the Navarro cheer team does, and we’ll talk about it at our next practice?”

We nod our agreement, and soon after that Miss Lopez dismisses us. I get on my feet, dust off my butt and go straight for the locker room.

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