Time Limit

Camille

(A/N: Hey everyone!  I'll be writing the chapters in Camille's POV.  I did the art up there, I know it sucks.  Anyway enjoy the chapter! ~Evy :)

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I slammed the locker door shut, sparkly pom poms rustling as I glanced at my watch. 7:50.  Great.  Just great. The cheerleaders would not be pleased if their captain was late. Especially Samantha. I sighed as I sprinted down the corridors, sneakers squeaking against the tile floor.

I burst through the double doors to the field, where a crowd of giggling girls were in a circle, sharing something on their phones. I tried not to cringe- sometimes I really pitied these girls.  The highlights of their lives were Instagram filters.

I casually walked towards them, trying to keep my breathing steady and making sure I didn't make eye contact with Samantha.  "Hey guys! Sorry I'm kinda late."

They looked up. "Oh hi Camille," Vicky, one of the nicer cheerleaders, said. My best friend Miranda grinned at me. "Late at last. I was wondering if Little Miss Goody-Two Shoes was even capable of that."

I rolled my eyes and clapped my hands together, addressing the whole team. "Okay, let's start with some warm ups."

"Riverside's the best, we outdo the rest, with energy and zest!"

Samantha and I did a couple of handsprings while the others formed a star behind us. We always started with this cheer and all of us could do it blindfolded.  "Riverside!  Riverside!"  The stronger girls crouched down on the ground while the others flipped onto their backs to form a pyramid.  "Go... Riverside!"  Samantha sprang onto the pyramid, followed by me.

As we ran through our second cheer and our third, I couldn't help feeling the glares Samantha shot in my direction. What had I ever done to her?  And as we headed back into the locker rooms, she flipped her ponytail right in my face before sashaying ahead with her hanger-on Ariana with a fake, high-pitched giggle.

I sighed.  And here I was, thinking I'd had the worst after... after... her... 

Shaking my head clear of unpleasant memories, I tugged on my cardigan over my tank top, gulped down some water and headed out.  Miranda caught up with me. "Hey, what's the hurry?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. Just feeling kinda off today."

She gave me the once over. "Bad hair day? No, I forgot you don't do those. Skipped breakfast? Oh wait I forgot about your golden nutrition rules. Didn't do your homework-"

"Stop!" I interrupted. "I'm just not in a good mood, okay?"

She pouted playfully. "Fine. But I'll totally be there when you're ready to spill." She skipped off to her locker and I continued walking. My locker was on the far end of the hall, meaning I had to do extra walking. Or sprinting if I was going to be late.

There was no hurry now though. My watch read 8:20 and to say my schoolmates were late birds (my term for the opposite of early birds) would be an understatement. Most of them just got in the gate at 9:00 a.m. and the first lesson started in five minutes. Only a couple of students were loitering in the hallways, either thumbing at their phones or leaning on the lockers and flicking through a book.

I flipped the numbers on the passcode thing and opened my locker door.  Like any other cheerleader's locker, mine contained everything from a mini mirror and a pencil stand stuck to the door to crepe paper, streamers and photos plastered all over the interior.