𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄🔪🃏🥀

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 2

Earlier that evening...

IT WAS BUZZING AT Thief Creek High the night of October 24th, how it usually is whenever the basketball team plays. A sea of red and black was clamoring excitedly, filling back into the student section bleachers and radiating excitement. It was halftime, the score was tied, and the game could go in any direction. I was busy on the court, swinging my hips and waving my arms to a catchy Latin beat with the rest of the cheer squad behind me – 11 rhythmically athletic girls mirroring the moves I'd designed intricately for the song. I tried to have a new routine for every game, you know, because why not? Dancing always came whimsically easy to me, and I wanted the world to see my work. That's why I kept nodding toward my good friend TJ Simmons on the sidelines as he paced back and forth with a fancy camera, clicking the shutter button as I shined. "Yeah, Marley! Work that!" He'd call out, buried in the little viewfinder. Earlier this year, I'd asked him to help me build a portfolio of photos highlighting my cheerleading and dance expertise, and TJ, solicitous as he was, made sure to be at every game to get the girls and I in frames of our prime.

I felt the pleats of my skirt settle on my thighs as I struck the final pose, beaming to the sound of cheers erupting and the sight of hands clapping in the air. Another routine successfully landed, and I ascended to cloud nine. I marinated in the moment, waiting until the applause died down to clap my hands together and face my girls. "Yes! Nice, ladies!" We all piled together for a moment, embracing each other like a bunch of sisters as we laughed and celebrated. "That was a performance from the Thief Creek Ladybirds!" The familiar voice of our sports announcer, Mr. Hartley, rang throughout the gymnasium as I led the girls to the sidelines. "All right, Eagles, it's time! Make sure to have your lottery tickets out if you are participating in the raffle, sponsored by the Fall Festival Food Drive!" 

I chuckled and walked toward the bench, where Gianna and Quinn were sitting with the other cheerleaders. "Better make way!" I announced, tossing my glittery pom-poms towards their smiling faces. "Aah!" Gianna squealed, swatting at the ball of black and red tinsel. Quinn actually caught the one that launched toward her, giggling as she and Gianna separated just enough for me to sit. I collapsed on the bench and raised my arms, letting my hands fall on the shoulders of my best girlfriends. I squeezed them both and sighed. "Ohh, you guys. We were absolutely per-fect!" I remarked in a singsong voice. "Gianna, you really popped off." I jiggled my arm, gently shaking Gianna in my grip as her perfect teeth peeked at me through a growing smile. "And Quinni? This is why you're on the front of the line." I planted my lips on Quinn's soft hair. "Muuuah!" the younger and shier Quinn blushed and chuckled as I continued to rave about our epic moment of girl power. "Who cares about the boys? This is our court!"

Gianna scoffed and tore herself from my grip, and I settled my hands on my lap. "You care about the boys, Marley. If Jack could actually watch us this season, it'd be like football, when you had us do Promiscuous Girl." I rolled my eyes, still laughing at the hard truth. "Shut up, like Quinn isn't hiking her skirt up a little extra just in case Lucas happens to walk out for a second." We turned to face the redhead, who gave a guilty smile and held her hand under her chin like a little pedestal. "And he likes it, too." She replied. I loved the small touches of sass that bubbled to Quinn's surface on occasion. It was like a little sprinkle of Gianna and I to compliment her warm, frothy personality.

And speaking of warm personalities... "Miss Marley! Gigi! Quinni!" I looked up and beamed, meeting the soft face of TJ, which was complimented by bookish circular glasses and an ecstatic grin. He waved with one hand and held his camera in the other, walking straight for me and the girls. "TJ!" Gianna exclaimed, sticking her hand out to the stylishly dressed Junior. He gently held it and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "So, what did you think?" I asked him, eager for his opinion of my routine. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Girl. It's giving Dirty Dancing, it's giving Kinky Boots, it's giving old-school Bring it On...with a little sprinkle of Selma Hayek in Dusk Till Dawn. I. Am. Floored."