Kiara

It’s another hot-like-hell type of day, which makes me dread practice even more than usual.

The teams clash, grunting on one side, and the bumbling circus of idiots pretending they were cheerleaders on the other.

I offered them water and the means to keep them all going and promised myself that this was only temporary.

That day had been weird in general. I wasn't sure what it was that tipped me off, perhaps it was good ol' fashion intuition, but something about the vibe was just off.

That morning as we headed to the mess for breakfast, it seemed like everyone was shifty, cautious even.

"Yo, is it me, or are people acting up more than usual today?" I’d asked Julisha to make sure I hadn't lost my mind somewhere along the line.

"Naw, you just tripping ’cause of that note." Though it seems pretty obvious who the author of that note is, we also know that we are traveling down a slippery slope.

"Girl, just keep that tucked in the back of your mind for now," Juju had advised. "I know this shit is going sideways, and right now you're on the wrong side of that shit, but sheesh, we gotta be careful about where we are pointing them fingers just yet."

I knew she was right.

No matter how badly I want to march up to the Dean's office and make a complaint, I need a lot more than a hunch to make something like that stick to princess.

As the teams start clearing off the field to the locker rooms, I snap out of my heat-induced daydream and begin cleaning up.

"Hey, queen!" Julisha pipes up as she makes her way toward the bleachers.

"I swear Imma melt all the way down one of these days," she quips as she dabs the sweat off of her forehead.

"Yeah, for real."

"What's good? You don't seem like your usual water-loving self," she jokes, grasping desperately to get me to give the minimum required giggle. Giving into her goofy grin, I know she means well, but the stress of avoiding her while managing to avoid the gaze of Andre is beginning to take its toll.

"Oh, shit, you know I'm good. Help me pull these jugs back to the canteen?"

I flash her a sly hopeful smile, and though she is far from convinced that I am living my best life, being the angel she is, Juju obliges.

***

The air conditioning is a sweet relief as we enter the locker room.

On approach, we can hear the entire cheer team wailing in laughter, an opposite atmosphere from the day's quiet demeanor.

As soon as I push the door open, an uncharacteristic silence falls over the room—all eyes on me.

A second longer, and they’re turned back to the usual gossipy whispers one would expect from a cheer team’s locker room.

The exception this time they keep turning to stare at me.

It isn’t that I’ve never been the object of their petty entertainment—Lord knows Marissa loves to run her mouth about every move I make, but something about the way their eyes linger on me a bit too long unsettles me.

“Someone’s a little late.” Speak of the Devil… “I’m surprised you can even walk after what I heard,” Marissa sneers—envious discomfort hidden poorly behind a veneer of rudeness.

“Excuse me?” I drop my bag next to my locker, turning to face her with exhausted irritation.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh please,” she hisses. “Half the school knows all the nasty shit you did with Andre over the weekend—hope you’re on the pill—don’t need him worrying about some slut baby momma when playoffs start.”

The shock in my face is evident to anyone watching, but we’re all startled when Julisha slams her locker and rounds on Marissa with all the fury of a woman scorned.

“Why don’t you try getting your facts straight before you start spewing ugly bullshit like that.”

For a moment, I think Juju is going to hit her, but she only crosses her arms, looking more vicious in pink velour running shorts than a trained soldier in uniform.

“It’s not your business what Keke does off the field—but since you so keen on what she doing—, she was in our dorm studying all weekend. If she was sleeping with Andre, I think I’d know.”

“Oh yeah, like I believe you,” Marissa hisses, puffing herself up like she wasn’t ready to shit herself the second Julisha marched toward her.

“Once a slut, always a slut.”

To Julisha’s credit, her knuckles flex, but she doesn’t so much as uncross her arms—right now though, I’m almost tempted to swing on the bitch.

“You of all people should know it’s just a rumor.” Julisha’s voice is softer, but not without an edge of genuine hurt. “You know how it feels when that shit is true.”

Marissa opens her mouth to speak, and for a minute the glossy sheen to her eyes makes me worry she’s going to launch into a hysteric fit of white girl tears.

Instead she just huffs, unable to look at either of us.

“Shit—look—why don’t you two go find lover boy?” She laughs as I feel myself losing control.

There’s nothing I want more than to leave, but I’m not about to get kicked out of school for knocking this salty bitch out—if I’m going to lose my scholarship, it will be my choice.

“We’re not going anywhere,” I hiss, standing my ground. “If you can’t stand the smell of your own shit, you leave.”

My mind flashes back to the note that came under the door the other night. Since the timing is just too perfect, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it were Marissa who’d started the rumor in the first place—no one else has any reason to have it out for me.

“Shit.” She throws her hands up defensively. “Fine. No one’s going anywhere.”

“Works for me.” The locker room returns to an uneasy silence when Marissa and I turn away from each other—Julisha’s eyes lingering just a little longer before she heads back to her own locker to finish getting changed.

I’ve got no idea what Andre’s role in this whole bullshit is, but I do know I can’t stand to look at him right now.

Marissa said that half the school has already heard the rumor—what’s he done to stop it?

Whether it’s his fault or not, I can’t stomach the sight of him right now—god forbid we be seen talking to each other.

Even now I’m not blind to the stares I’m getting and the way people turn away and cover their vapid little smirks when I lock eyes with them.

I’m not about to give the vultures more to feed on.

Finding it too much to accept, I quickly throw on my shirt, deciding the shower can wait until I get back to the dorm.

If I don’t leave now, there won’t be anymore manager position, no more school, and I will have ruined my life even more than this stupid bitch already did.

“Hey.” Julisha catches up to me, and we both settle into an easy jog.

“How’re you holding up?”

“Don’t know.” I shake my head, sighing as deep as the exertion of the day catches up.

“I don’t think I’ve really processed it all yet.”

“I get that,” she nods. “But, I have to ask—”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” I confirm, a bit too shortly. “Thanks for covering for me back there.”

Truth is, I had been in the dorm studying all weekend, but Juju had been out catching up with an old friend.

I’m grateful to have a friend who trusts me enough to defend me first, get the truth second.

“Of course,” she waves me off.

“Even if it had been true, it’s not her damn business—and it’s definitely not anyone else’s.”

She shoots a pointed glare at some other students who’d been staring, and they quickly shuffle away.

“It was probably her who started the rumor in the first place,” I scoff at the mere mention of Marissa, but Juju shakes her head.

“No, I think that she believes it.”

“Yeah, but yo, she dropped that letter, how do you explain that shit?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’ll give you that, and I’ll raise you the idea, it was just a stupid joke, a way for her to rattle you girl. The way she was reacting today…Sheesh! She didn’t expect to hear that news. Let’s call that shit an unpleasant coincidence?

“Anyways, everyone knows homegirl wants Andre,” she explains. “If she made up the rumor, she wouldn’t look so hurt by it.”

“She could be faking—wouldn’t be the first time the bitch has lied.”

Juju shakes her head. “Nah, I know her well enough to read her.”

There’s a tenseness to her voice, like the whole ordeal is sour in her mouth. “She probably cried herself to sleep when she heard it.”

It’s easy to forget that Julisha and Marissa used to be friends—I almost hadn’t believed her when she told me.

They hated each other at first, but when Marissa’s ex printed out her nudes and put them up around the school, Julisha was the only one who stood up for her.

“I guess you have a point,” I relent. “People are dicks.” I grimace.

“True that,” she huffs. “Doesn’t really matter who started it or why—it hurts just the same.”

“That it does,” I shudder.

I remember the start of our first semester, when that one asshole leaked a video of Julisha. That seemed to last forever—I don’t know if I’m strong enough to come out of it as gracefully as she did if the rumor doesn’t die down quickly. “Hey. I think we’ve been out here long enough—do you want to grab coffee?”

“Sounds good to me.” She nods, her eyes soft when she looks at me. “Somewhere off campus though.”

We walk past the football players on the field. Andre catches my eye, and I notice right away his sadness.

Despite the frustration I’m feeling, I try to avoid any further interaction with the team and continue on my way with Julisha.

I just can’t understand how Andre can just practice like normal, as if he hadn't heard the news. Does he care?

I don’t have the mental space to deal with that man right now.

We toss our duffle bags into the back of Julisha’s car before heading off campus to avoid the wandering eyes and less than subtle snickers of people who are way too old to be part of this gossip.

“I don’t want to go back.”

The words fly out of my mouth the second we pull into the coffee shop’s parking lot, before Julisha even had a chance to shut the car off.

“Back to school, or—?” she trails off, looking at me with genuine concern.

“No, no—I’m a big girl. I’m not letting this chase me away from my dreams,” I reassure us both. “But how the hell am I supposed to get out on the field and support a squad that don’t respect me?”

“It’s not easy, I can tell you that.”

She unhooks her seatbelt, turning to face me with that quizzical look on her face that lets me know I have her full attention—she’s going to be an excellent psychiatrist some day.

“But how about your scholarship?” Her voice is professional, concise.

It’s a valid question—the same one that ultimately kept her on the team when her own scandal was the talk of the campus.

“I—I don’t know, but I think I need to figure something else out.”

She nods, listening to me without judgment.

“You should definitely put your mental health first—maybe call in sick for the next couple of practices while you try to figure things out.”

I can’t help wrapping my arms around my stomach, feeling sick at the realization that this isn’t going to just go away with a good night’s sleep.

“Doesn’t that mean they win?”

“Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks,” she insists. “You can only lose if you play their game in the first place.”

“You’re right.” I nod, trying my best to calm down enough to walk into the shop without making another spectacle of myself. “You usually are.”

She smiles, buckling her seat belt again.

“How about we hit the drive-through?” she asks, taking in my shaking form.

“Yes please.”

I smile in spite of the nerves—thanks to Julisha, I know it isn’t the end of the world.

I can wait until tomorrow to start dealing with this.