A Year Being the Cheerleader

16.

"Good evening," Dad says as I walk inside the house, but I ignore him as I race my way up the stairs and lock myself in my bedroom.

I drop into my bed backwards, my eyes trained on the ceiling. It is blue, but it is as boring as a white crayon. I sigh shutting my eyes not wanting to think. Unlike many teenagers' rooms, mine is blank. Completely blank. Nothing personal or anything that you could really know about the person besides from the fact that I am boring. I hate this room. First of all, the ceiling is blue and not red as I requested. The walls are paper thin and the bathroom has a tub I can't fit in and I am XS. My life. Just then, I hear a knock at my door and knew who it was before he even said anything.

"Darling Amber," Dad says, his voice a little muffled by the door. "We need to talk."

"I'm on the phone," I lied. "Sorry about that Hannah."

I said the last part to make my lie sound more believable.

"It'll just take a minute," he says, almost pleading.

I roll my eyes. So now they're sorry, but then again, I could be misreading this like the last time.

"So is this phone call," I retort callously. "But it'll take longer if you stop interrupting me."

"Fine," he says in defeat, but that only hiked my suspicions.

For all the years I have lived with my parents, they never give up. Like never. It just isn't apart of them, that's why I always caved into what they want me to do. They are the master manipulators if nothing else. I still close my eyes hoping that this was one of those things that change history like with the refrigerator being empty this morning. I felt myself slowly falling into sleep, but then I was awaken by the sound of keys jingling in the room door. Reluctantly, I got up looking at the door in curiosity. The door then pushed open and my father enter stuffing the keys in his pocket.

"I knew you weren't talking on the phone," he says with what I think is a smirk. It looks almost weird on him. "You are so not a good liar."

"Well, at least that's one thing I can say differentiates my parents and I," I shrug. "I thought you guys threw away that key."

"We did throw away a key," he says leaning on my vanity table which I inherited from my grandmother. "Just not this one. You are becoming a better liar though."

"Oh," I nod. "That was expected. You guys always think I would act like Kayla."

"Don't bring Kayla in this," he chastises. "We have taken the entire summer to forget her and we have moved away from that faze."

"I moved away from that faze from the day they buried her in the ground," I inform him. "You and mom haven't."

He sighs. "Darling, I didn't come up here to argue or fight with you."

I shake my head knowing where this is going as he comes to sit beside me on the bed.

"I am not becoming a cheerleader, dad," I tell him firmly.

"We aren't asking you to do that, darling," he says soothingly. "We just want you to try-out for it."

"But Daddy, that is the thing," I say looking at him. "I know I am going to get in and when I do, there's no stopping what will happen next."

"There is something you need to know Amber darling," he says his hands firmly on my shoulders as he looks at me. "Life is full of the unexpected and risks need to be taken. Your mother and I have finally realized you are too sheltered."

"Really?" I snort folding my arms across my chest.

"Yes really," he confirms and I feel his fingers dig deeper in my shoulder and I know he is going to say something personal. "I was sheltered as a child, so when I finally moved out of my parents' house to college, I couldn't manage. If I didn't meet your mother I would have been a goner. The world out there is large, yet way to small to avoid." He takes out my atlas to prove his point. "It's a dog-eat-dog world and people exploit. They only take and don't give and we don't want that to happen to you."

"So how will being a cheerleader have anything to do with that?" He smiles.

"First of all, you will be more social and less socially awkward." He pauses and I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything else.

"That's it?" I ask in disbelief.

"The rest you just have to figure out," he says and place a kiss on my forehead. "Everything is for the better, darling. As your grandmother always told me, your darkest hour come before your dawn. Dinner is ready and don't let me come back up here to drag you down there to eat."

He then leaves the room and I fall back on my bed, my mind doing the opposite of what I want it to do.

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