Before me stands the most gorgeous boy I have ever laid eyes on. It is the lifeguard with the wavy ash brown hair and crystal blue eyes--or is it the bronze statue from the house in the woods? In that moment, they seem one and the same.
"Can I help you?"
I just stare at the lifeguard's toned arms and lean torso. When his icy blue eyes meet mine over the rim of his stylish metal sunglasses, I freeze, unable to breathe.
"The pool's closed. There was an incident with a toddler and a diaper."
"Oh?" I murmur with my mind unable to put together a single thought and my feet unwilling to move. "Someone pooped in the pool?"
Idiot!
He stares at me blankly. "Are you looking for someone? I saw you standing there and thought—"
"You saw me?" A gasp escapes my lips and my wonder turned to complete embarrassment.
Wasn't I just staring at my own reflection for a full minute, peeling off articles of clothing and fluffing my hair? This is beyond humiliating! I grin out of desperation, hoping for a forgiving smile in return.
Instead, the cute lifeguard cocks his head to one side and holds the door with an outstretched hand. "Are you coming inside?"
"I'm so sorry." I take a step back, nearly tripping over my own feet as I scramble to walk away. "I'll come back some other time."
"If you're looking for someone, maybe I can help?" His azure eyes follow me over the rim of his sunglasses as I retreat down the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I am looking. Was looking. For someone. But not anymore." My gaze brushes over his light, sun-kissed skin and the mousey brown waves of his hair until my backside grazes a lamp post. "Ouch!"
"Watch out." The thinnest curl of amusement forms on his perfect lips.
"I will." My hair falls down into my face as I spin around, but I tuck it behind my ear and steal one last glance at him. "Bye. Thanks for the update. About the poop. I mean, the diaper. See you later."
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!
I book it down the sidewalk and curse myself for being a total fool in front of such a perfect male specimen. He has the prowess and poise of a mythological creature—a god even. He is a Greek god you read about in a textbook—or see cast in bronze, leaning precariously in a field of tall plumes of grass.
I'm really losing it.
I push the Greek god out of my mind and my thoughts turn to Bethany and Michelle. Literally running away from the opportunity to make things right was stupid, maybe even crazy. Dad always said, insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Each day I go to cheerleading practice expecting things to get better, but do not make an effort to change the status quo, I am setting myself up for disappointment. I know that. Yet, facing the Greek god and Bethany at the same time is impossible as long as there is the familiar weakness in my legs and anxiety gnawing at the pit of my stomach. There has to be another way.
I walk home as fast as my tired legs will carry me, strategizing.
Dad is elbow deep in the rusty, old car when I arrive. "Hey, kiddo. Come check out what I'm doing on the hot rod."
"Later, Dad. I've got to talk to Mom." I race up the front stairs.
"See you later, alligator," Dad calls out as I slam the door.
"Mom, we need to go shopping for new clothes."
"Oh. My. God. I thought this day would never come. I lost all hope you'd get out of that awful baggy t-shirt phase." Gloria is a jewel dressed from head to toe in shiny fuchsia spandex in the middle of the living room doing her Buns of Steel workout video. She's sprawled on her side, raising one lean leg toward the ceiling. "Let's go this weekend. Total makeover?"
"Yes, please." I hunch down into our hunter green sofa and hug one of the mauve chenille pillows.
"I take it your meeting didn't go well?"
"She wasn't there," I lie. "Do you mind if I borrow a few things of yours? I mean, if I can fit in them?"
"Like what?" She's now on all fours lifting her bent leg to the side, looking like a dog peeing on a fire hydrant.
"Something to wear to cheerleading practice tomorrow, and, uh, maybe a bra. A push-up bra."
Gloria's bright blue eyes pop open in surprise. "We might make a beauty queen out of you yet."
The next afternoon, Gloria gathers up my hair into a high ponytail and secures it with a rubber band and a two-foot strand of blue satin ribbon. She adds spiral curls to my ponytail with a half-inch curling iron and douses it with Aqua Net hairspray. Wearing her stylish sneakers, trendy shorts and a little blush, mascara and lip-gloss does wonders for my self-esteem (even if it does make me feel a little pretentious).
When I walk into the gym for practice, I cling to the hope that in one day I have transformed from pubescent wallflower to svelte cheerleader chick. Then I hear giggles from a few feet away.
"Well, look who's dressed for the party."
It is Bethany's syrupy voice. I steel myself and face her. Michelle and Katelyn flank Bethany like henchmen waiting for their instructions
"You didn't show." Michelle tosses her frizzy hair.
"I went shopping," I lie, looking down at Gloria's purple and teal New Balance shoes on my feet and shrug. "My mom wouldn't take no for an answer. I guess there were some good sales or something."
"Well, by the look of it that was a good decision." Bethany gives a nod of approval.
Coach Roberts walks into view and Bethany drops into a lunge. "Ladies, enough talking. It's time to stunt."
I shudder at the word. Stunting is a new term to me, but I am fairly certain it involves lifting people high above your head, girls flying through the air, and some poor sucker catching them on the way down. In all honesty, I do not care to know more.
"Let's head to the wrestling room." Bethany leads the way.
I fall into formation at the back of the pack and walk into the dark room on the edge of the main gym.
"As you probably know, an unfortunate accident and subsequent lawsuit kept the girls from Monroe 'ground bound' for the past few years. So, there are at least five of you here that have never built any formations with the climber above shoulder level." Coach Roberts gives a quick look around the room. A few girls nodded in agreement. "On the other hand, you girls from Goose Creek can do everything from a simple extension to a basket toss. And, then we have a few with no experience at all."
I can feel everyone's eyes practically burrowing into my skull as I stare at the red rubber mat under my feet. Clearly, this is a situation where my dancing background is not enough. I am at a disadvantage with no former cheerleading training to draw from and everyone knows it.
"Partner up, and let's get started." In three quick strides, Roberts moves to the edge of the room.
The group splinters off into pairs before my eyes. I am left standing self-consciously in the middle of the padded floor.
How can this be? There has to be someone missing.
I count up six pairs of Glamazon girls spread out around the wrestling room—then it hits me. I really was the odd one out. Lucky number thirteen.
Coach Roberts points at me. "Rose, join up with Bethany and Katelyn and take turns."
Their names pound on my eardrums. "Yes, ma'am."
"We're going to start with shoulder stands today. You should all be strong enough to be the base and the climber." With an outstretched finger and nod of her head, Coach summons Michelle and Courtney to the center of the room and they spring into action.
As Michelle drops into a side lunge and raises her open palms to shoulder level, Courtney walks behind her and places one foot on the thigh of Michelle's bent leg and the other on her left shoulder. They clasp hands, and in a split second, Michelle snaps to a standing position and cups the back of Courtney's narrow calves—which are now on either side of Michelle's ears. Courtney stands delicately on Michelle's shoulders and strikes a high-V.
"Beautiful!" Coach Roberts gives a tight-lipped smile.
Sweat beads up on my forehead and my hands start to shake.
Bethany takes one look at my face and laughs. "You're up first, Rosie."
"I'll spot you." Katelyn cold blue eyes give off a hint of warmth.
With a deep breath, I take my place behind Bethany. She assumes the position—a side lunge with her hands reaching up past her shoulders, awaiting mine. I reach out and place my palms on hers.
"Ick, your hands are all sweaty."
"Sorry." I wipe them on Gloria's shirt.
"Just get on with it," Katelyn grips my waist.
Applying gentle pressure, I put my left foot on top of Bethany's left leg. I take another deep breath and push up into a standing position, I wobbling slightly, but quickly finding my balance. "What's next?"
"Now, you put your right foot on top of her right shoulder and stand up," Katelyn explains patiently. "Don't let go of her hands yet, though. You'll need them to balance."
With the smallest spark of confidence, I follow Katelyn's instructions and find myself standing with both feet on top of Bethany's shoulders, bent at the waist, hands holding tightly onto her for balance with Katelyn steadying me from behind.
"Good job," Katelyn says and I smile.
Bethany pops into a standing position, and I almost topple forward until Katelyn's hands pull back on my calves, steadying me. Centering myself, I let go of Bethany's hands and stand upright.
"Very nice, Rose," Roberts nods as she walked by, looking pleasantly surprised. "Now, dismount."
How does that go, again?
"Just grab her hand and jump down," Katelyn says, practically reading my mind.
Bethany lets go of one of my ankles and puts up a steady hand. I carefully grab it and hop down to the safety of the wrestling mat. My chest swells with pride at my ability to perform under pressure. The shoulder stand is a small, much-needed victory. Hopefully, it gains me a shard of respect from my teammates.
"Your turn," Bethany raises her eyebrows as a challenge.
"I'm ready." I almost am.
"This might hurt a little," Bethany whispers in my ear, "but it will toughen you up."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for your comments and votes!
Is the tide finally turning for Rose?
Do you think the makeover boosted her self esteem?