She was lethal.
Once.
She was brave and relentless.
Once.
Then there was the accident.
Now, she's just lucky to be alive.
At least that's what everyone keeps telling her.
She doesn't remember it.
Not clearly.
Everything is fragmented, mere shar...
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The metal gymnasium doors swung open, groaning at the hinges from age. Mindless chatter hushed as Jessica Banks and her cheer squad, waltzed in, their ponytails bouncing high on their heads. An entrance grand enough for a princess. Her court just a step behind in matching royal blue and gray pleated skirts and, mid-drift baring shell tops. Their white sneakers squeaking against the polished floors as they closed in on the small group of nervous girls.
Everyone around Jane suddenly straightened their postures, smoothed any wrinkles from their clothes, while double and triple checking the ribbons in their hair. Even Sara's spine straightened, as if she'd been called to attention. Fear permeated the already musty gym air. Its acridly sweet scent was one Jane knew well. A stench that haunted dreams more than waking hours, but still so pungent it took everything to not cover her nose.
What was to truly be feared in high school? And did a girl like Jessica Banks really wield such power?
Narrowed eyes zeroed in on Jane, the rest of the group inched away, as though she'd been contaminated. She knew then, the answer was undoubtedly yes.
"What, are, you, doing here?" Jessica huffed.
That was a very good question. So many things had led her here. The better question was, what things would lead her out of here?
A nudge from her sister's elbow brought Jane back to Jessica's scrutinizing gaze. "I am sorry about lunch." She murmured through gritted teeth. Apologizing to someone like Jessica Banks felt like swallowing glass. "I overreacted."
"You think I care about some lame apology?" Jess waved her hand flippantly, followed it up with a roll of her big hazel eyes before exhaling a dramatic sigh, "Whatever, have you ever even cheered before?"
"It can't be that hard."
Another nudge from Sara's elbow let her know she'd said the wrong thing. An insulting thing confirmed by the growing hatred wafting off Jess. "Can you do a handspring? Or even something as simple as a proper cartwheel?"
The short answer was yes, however, the long answer might have been more complicated. Of course, she was proficient in several fighting styles most of which involved calisthenics. But she couldn't say that, because why would an average homeschooled girl from Atlanta need to know something like Xtreme Martial Arts? "Sara is better at acrobatics. I thought I could be a base, or something..."
After picking an invisible piece of lint off her shell top Jess gave a long, bored look to the two girls from the lunch table. "You're so boring. We don't need any more bases, what we need are flyers. Can you fly?"
All Jane could think to do was shrug.
"It's not that hard, remember? We'll show you, then you can try. If you can do it, you're on the team. Okay girls, formation." With the clap of Jess's hands four cheerleaders were instantly on the mat. Three girls took hold of the smallest one then lifted her up with their hands. Once in position the flyer extended one leg and both arms before being tossed. She twirled once before being caught by the bases.
