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Daya Moul 1.
End of July
“Was there a male cheerleader quota?” An annoying, nasally voice sounds behind me as I stretch on the practice field. First day of cheer training camp, first time meeting my squadmates, and I’m dealing with this shit? I thought I left all this catty behavior behind in high school. I guess some things never change.
“She’s a girl!” another one giggles.
“How can you tell? Front’s as flat as the back.” Their laughter is grating…but nothing new. I’ve dealt with it for years. They’ll be singing a different tune when I’m given the opportunity to demonstrate why I was selected as the featured performer.
I stand, stretching to balance on my toes for twenty seconds, then bend at the waist to touch the grass. With a little push, I shift into a handstand, then split my legs and roll my body until I’m in a split.
“Shit,” the one that giggled mutters, and I feel her move away. The other one, she sticks around. She squats next to me, though I continue to stretch, paying her no mind.
“Don’t get comfortable, Bug Bites. You won’t make it through camp.” She pats the top of my head, like I’m a dog, thenstands up and strides away. I glance up, my torso laying on my outstretched leg as I reach for my toes. She’s pretty. Long brown hair, blonde highlights. Tan and tone, athletic and curvy. Whoever she is, she definitely has more tits and ass than I can ever hope to have. Too bad she’s a bitch.
I’m new here. I have to prove myself. There are several other freshmen at camp, but they are in their own group. The cheer coach, Jenna Nemac, has me training with the upperclassman. While the other freshmen will be on the sidelines, revving up the crowd, I’ll be doing my acrobatic thing during the entire game, especially commercial breaks and halftime. Jenna tracked me down in my Florida hometown after watching me compete in the high school national cheering championship. We won all four years of my high school career. I have been tapped to train for the Olympics, more than once, and passed. I’ve seen what that does to a woman and her self-esteem, not to mention her mental state and physical health. I love acrobatics and cheering, but it’s not my entire life. I also love dancing, softball, and reading. But I’m not going to read competitively. Though, that does sound awesome.
I want to teach. I have so much fun working with the young ones at the gymnastics studio where I trained. They are so excited, eager, and like little sponges just absorbing the world around them. I’d love to continue teaching acrobatics and dance in my spare time, but I want to be an elementary school teacher. And to do that, I need to run, jump, and flip from one end of the field to the other so most of my educational costs are covered by my scholarship. My parents are covering the rest, and I won’t let them down.
Jenna blows the whistle around her neck, getting everyone’s attention. “Hello! Welcome back. We had a great season last year, but I have a feeling this one is going to be epic. I am makinga slight change this season. We will have a featured performer during football games and competitions. She is one of the most talented students I’ve ever seen, and she’s only a freshman! Welcome, Daya Moul to our team!” Jenna claps with a big smile aimed my way. I stand up, wave, and feel my cheeks heating from the attention.
“Her?” A strangled voice rises above the rest. “Jenna, I’ve been working—”
“Shaye.” I wince at the stern warning in Jenna’s voice, and it’s not even directed at me. Shaye, the nasty one from earlier, backs down, but it’s too late. One thing I like about Jenna, and why I decided to trust my gut and sign on the dotted line to move up north away from everyone and everything I’ve ever known, is that she’s firm but fair. Straightforward, no nonsense, driven. But she’s not egotistical, or malicious. So far, she seems to want to elevate everyone on her squads, push them to be their best selves, and produce a team that the university can be proud of, regardless of the titles and championships. “Work hard, you’ll have your time to shine.” She glances away from Shaye to the rest of the gathered crowd. “All of you. Give me your best and I’ll showcase it for the world to see.”
“But she’s a freshman! I deserve—”
“I will speak to you after camp.” Jenna cuts Shaye off, her eyes narrowed at the upperclassman. She looks at me, waving her hand to the open field behind us. “Care to demonstrate why I’ve chosen you?” I shrug, knowing I’d have to at some point. It’s the first day, so I’m not going to go all out, but I’ll give them something to talk about besides my flat chest.
Everyone turns and lines up to watch, I pay them no mind. With a deep breath, I take a few steps into a roundoff back handspring. My feet touch the ground long enough to propel meinto a front handspring. I use the momentum to jump into a toe touch. I loosen my legs enough when I land to roll back into a back handspring, jumping into a pike, then a front aerial, into a back tuck and land on the ground in a split. I’m breathing a little heavier, my heart slowly relaxing now that I’m done. I roll around on my back, swinging my legs, then stand, brushing off the grass from my tight shorts and sports bra.
Applause breaks out, a few guys on the squad whooping and hollering. I jump at the sound, not expecting anything so positive. I glance up and smile at the open, encouraging, friendly faces I see. A few scowl, especially Shaye. But Jenna is happy, and I guess I am too. I’m under no illusions that my transition into college will be easy. Heavy class load, workouts, practices, and football games. I’m going to be busy and exhausted, but if I have squadmates who don’t hate me, it might not be so bad.
“You barely broke a sweat.” A blonde approaches me with an infectious grin. She’s fair skinned, tall, and lean, and very pretty. “That was great!”
“Thank you.”
She thrusts her hand out for me to shake. “Eva Dups.” I slide my hand into hers and chuckle when she enthusiastically pumps twice before releasing me.
“Daya Moul.”
She points over my shoulder, “That was…effortless. That isn’t even the tip of the iceberg of your skills set, is it?”
I lift my shoulder casually, not wanting to brag. “I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve.”
“We’re getting dinner after practice.”
“We are?” I ask, my eyebrow cocked.
“Yup.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we’re gonna be best friends.”
“We are?” I repeat with a chuckle.
“Yup.”
