Page 3 of Sunshine

For now.

“I need you to keep an eye on Annie until we get home—Miss Patsy will be here with her after school, but I know she’ll worry with me out of the house.” Annie’s had Miss Patsy as a nanny since she was three years old—she probably won’t even notice my mother is missing. But I won’t tell her that. “I already cannot wait to hear about your day,” she continues. “Make sure you use bobby pins to keep your hair out of your face during tryouts—those girls will be expecting your ponytail to be nice and tight.”

I groan, willing her to stop with the smothering. My mother is a great mom, but my transition into high school hasunleashed something inside of her that makes me crazy. It’s almost as if she sees it as a chance to relive her own experience through me.

But I don’t want her experience—one that left her alone and pregnant at eighteen years old, stuck in the small town she’d been in all her life. I want to be free from this place someday. I want to escape the bounds of Saddlebrook Falls and make a life bigger than anything that can be found here.

Jumping into the front seat of her silver Mercedes, I stuff my backpack onto the floor in front of me and shove my cheer bag into the back seat. My mom turns the ignition as she glances at me. “Are you nervous?”

I shake my head. “No, not at all,” I assure her. But the truth is, I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t know how to find one of my classes, and I have to walk in late? What if I trip and make a fool out of myself in the middle of lunch where everyone can see?

I may not carry the same expectations for my life that my mom does, but I do have some of my own. The next four years will be my chance to bloom, to expand so far out of myself that there’s no option but to leave this town. I refuse to accept the path that leads me right into the throes of marriage and motherhood—there’snoway I’m handing my life over to someone else like that.

“I remember my first day of high school,” my mom says softly as she watches the road in front of her. “There’s nothing like it. That feeling of new opportunity. Of having possession over the rest of your life.” Her words hit me right in the chest because she’s right. But it doesn’t make sense, because I know with near-certain confidence that the only thing shewants me to find is a captain spot on the cheer team and a future husband.

I want a captain spot too—I’ll give her that. But a husband?

I sigh again, willing the car to drive faster.

Luckily it doesn’t take us long to arrive at the large brick building, its bold red letters gleaming brightly in the morning sun: SADDLEBROOK FALLS HIGH SCHOOL - HOME OF THE MUSTANGS. Instead of pulling the car through the drop-off line, my mom parks and turns off the engine.

I brace myself as I turn to look at her. Her gaze is fastened on the building, lost in thought as she takes it all in. She must notice the silence around us after a minute, because her eyes jump to me. “All right, kid, you ready?”

I nod once. “Yes ma’am.” I give her a small smile to ease any worry she might feel. “Thanks for driving me, Mom.”

A warm smile flashes across her face as she leans in to kiss me on my cheek. “Have a good day, honey.”

“See you later,” I say as I push open my door and get out, bags in hand. My mom honks once before she starts the car and backs out, and I wave her goodbye as she retreats out of the lot.

Turning around and taking in a deep breath, I make my way toward my new school.

My first daygoes well for the most part. I only got a little lost on my way to the science wing for Biology, but my teacher was forgiving. The school is so much bigger than what I’m used to—there are two middle schools in Saddlebrook Falls, and both of them feed into the one highschool in town. There are so many new faces, kids I’ve seen before at Mustang’s Pizza and the movie theater, and others that are unfamiliar.

In fourth period, I find my photography class full of upperclassmen. Most freshmen don’t have an opportunity to pick elective classes, but since I took a pre-algebra course over the summer, I had room in my schedule for something fun. The teacher assigns me to sit next to an older boy in a letterman jacket whose notebook hasJasonscrawled on the cover in neat, blocky letters, and I have to fight hard to hide my blush.

He’s gorgeous and quiet, and the combination draws me in. I can feel him sneaking glances at me through most of the class and I’m tempted to introduce myself, but I chicken out every time I turn to find his eyes bouncing from me back to the front of the room. It’s only the first day of the whole school year; I don’t want to seem too eager, and I don’t want to make it obvious that he’s not great at hiding what he’s doing.

In my last class of the day, I wait patiently for the final bell to ring. Tryouts start right after school, and it’s all I can think about as our algebra teacher drones on about expectations for the year.

When the bell finally rings, I burst out of my seat and accidentally crash into the boy in front of me, my notebook falling to the ground between us. He turns to face me, a small scowl twisting his full lips, and my eyes widen in embarrassment. “Oh my gosh . . . I’m so sorry . . .” I sputter. He’s tall with unruly brown hair and deep chestnut eyes that eye me warily as he eventually bends down to pick up my fallen notebook. Without a word, he hands it to me before turning around and walking out of the room.

As soon as he’s out of sight, I let my shoulders slump.

That was awkward.

I make a mental note to smile out another apology tomorrow, then grab my backpack and hurry out of the room. I’m not sure who he is, but this is an advanced math class so he’s probably a sophomore or junior. He looked older—his chest wide and forearms strong and corded.

I hope he doesn’t take it personally.

I get to the locker room in five minutes, and spend another five changing into my cheer outfit—a simple white tank top and a pair of red Soffe cheer shorts to show my Mustang spirit. I realize after throwing my hair up into a tight ponytail that there are a ton of other girls in here, and it looks like they’re all getting ready for the same thing.

I shake out my fingers and accept that the competition will be fierce today, that I’m simply going to have to give it my very best. High school football is as significant as church around here—everything shuts down for Friday night home games as people pour in to watch the Mustangs dominate on the field.

Our team is good—they’ve always been good. Dozens of state championship banners hang around the stadium, proudly boasting the team’s mostly undefeated reign.

I don’t care much about football, really, but I love to cheer. And I think I have what it takes to at least make it onto the freshman or JV team—I’ve been tumbling since I knew how to walk, and I cheered all throughout middle school—but I want varsity.

I want it so bad.

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