Page 52 of Kickoff

The song ended, and they transitioned into a rhythmic piece, forming patterns as they paraded to the beat of the drums.

The band split into two groups and dispersed on each side of the field as the cheerleaders ran to the fifty-yard line, shaking the golden pompoms over their heads and performing high kicks, infusing the crowd with contagious energy.

I stood on the opposite side of the field with my teammates, waiting for our cue to join the pep rally. I wasn’t a fan of the whole spectacle, but I knew how important it was for the school spirit.

The cheerleaders formed two parallel lines when the music picked up, the strong intoxicating beat resonating around us. Dressed in their golden-and-navy-blue uniforms, they became the center of attention as three of them stepped forward and executed a series of well-coordinated back handsprings followed by a dozen cartwheels and backflips.

The crowd consisting of students and teaching and faculty staff roared its approval.

“You okay?” Chase asked, next to me, his eyes trained on the cheerleaders’ miniskirts that displayed a lot of bare legs.

“Yeah. I have stuff on my mind. I’m trying not to get distracted.” It wasn’t a complete lie. After my middle-of-the-night discussion with my neighbor, I was still restless about all the things I had no control over—tonight’s game and her date tomorrow night included.

I was usually good at compartmentalizing my life so my personal stuff didn’t interfere with my sport, but for some reason, this time, it felt impossible. My mind was one big shit show I couldn’t keep in line. I blamed my short night for not being able to regain control over my mind.

My brother neared my other side. “Mase. You good, man?”

I shrugged. Every cell in my body was taut. It felt like I was made of glass, and if someone pushed me, I would fracture into a million pieces.

He clamped my shoulder with a muscular hand. “Stop putting pressure on yourself. I know football is your life because it’s mine too, but it’s also just a sport. All you can do is bring your A-game and hope we dominate the other team. The guys are ready, I’m ready, and so are you. We’ve been over the plays hundreds of times already, and we’ve all watched the game tapes more than once. We can kick Cowley High’s asses tonight. That’s all you should focus on. Have faith in the team.”

He let go of me, and I blew out a long breath. His words mirrored some of those Melinda—and my mom—spoke last night, yet I couldn’t seem to relax. I scanned the bleachers for the third time, trying to spot her. So far, no sign of her. Where was she? I knew she had her first training today. I just hoped our morning run hadn’t tired her out too much and she had been able to swim. Melinda had been looking forward to going back into the pool since she woke up after the surgery, and I didn’t want anything to stand in her way.

“Who are you looking for?” Craig asked, following my line of sight.

“No one. I’m counting the number of people wearing jerseys. It keeps my mind busy.” Again, it wasn’t a total lie. I often did that—count something from a crowd—when my mind went haywire. Ponytails, blonde hair, mustaches, red shirts, hats. Anything to busy my brain for a moment.

“Look.” Chase pointed forward. “You don’t wanna miss that.”

“What?” I brought my gaze forward.

The cheerleaders split into three groups. Interlocking their hands, the base of each group formed a foundation and crouched down. The two outside groups moved back up with their arms bent, loading their mid-bases above their heads. The middle group stretched their arms over their heads, loading Tanya, the flyer, at the top of the pyramid.

Her back was ramrod straight as she clapped her hands to the rhythm of the music. She stood on one leg, holding on to her two mid-bases’ hands, their form impeccable. After she hit it, Tanya’s base tossed her in the air, and she did a double twist before falling back and landing in the waiting hands of her spotters.

The two mid-bases executed heel stretches, their legs held high above their heads before moving into scorpion poses where they grabbed their curved legs behind them.

People in the bleachers cheered on them at the top of their lungs.

A couple of cheerleaders still on the ground performed cartwheels and handsprings in front of the formation before the pyramid dismounted, the bases lowering their mid-bases. The squad transitioned into partner stunts where one had their feet planted on the ground and lifted the other on their shoulders. After a couple of heel stretches, they propelled them in the air before spotters caught them when they fell back.

Now standing in a line, the squad jumped in excitement, shaking their pompoms and cheering our team.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Chase exclaimed next to me. “I’ll never get tired of watching girls doing acrobatic shit. Even Tanya is good at this, which is saying a lot.”

Sheldon walked up to us, and they fist-bumped. “Me neither. These skirts are a delight for the eyes.”

I sighed at their antics. “Guys, stop. Focus on the upcoming game, not on bare thighs. One day, the cheer squad will wear astronaut uniforms, and it will be all because of idiots like you.”

“What has gotten into you, Mase?” Peters asked. “Since when are you so stuck-up?”

“Nothing. Keep your eyes and your mind on the game and stop acting like kids.” I wasn’t in the mood for their stupidities.

“You sure you’re okay?” Craig asked again in a low tone.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Are you about to have a meltdown? The few times it happened in the past was because the pressure you put on yourself felt like too much, and I was the one who had to get you out of that funk. If you’re about to have one, please tell me so I can intervene and calm you before you explode.”