Kiara
It’s hard to believe that I was allowed to transfer to St. Bonaventure just a few months ago.
This prestigious school was practically dripping with wealth and luxury.
I’d never been surrounded by such extravagance before, and it had been a culture shock, to say the least. And I’d never thought I’d be helping out a cheer team, either. But I needed to meet a volunteer requirement, so cheer equipment manager I became.
As I take a quick drink from my water bottle, I can't help but feel a sense of exhaustion wash over me.
Some of the girls have been shooting me nasty looks during practice, and I’m not sure why. I push back the unsettling feeling and try to focus on the cheer team.
I keep telling myself that coming here to Saint Bonaventure is the best decision I could make, and it's an excellent opportunity for my future.
I know for sure that scholarships to this school are pretty rare. They take their admission programs very seriously.
The part that trips me up the most about this place is how extravagant it is here and how shitty the kids are. When I said yes to coming here, yes to the scholarship requirements, I didn't expect to get involved in sports. At all. I’d never banked my future on the prospect of being an equipment manager.
Back home, in my real life, we don't have fancy uniforms and we take the city bus to classes every day. But, we have real friendships with real support.
Something that these girls understand, I guess.
Everything over the past few months has been moving so fast that sometimes it seems unreal.
As much as being outside of everything is tough, I need this program for the National Honors Society.
Meaning, I need this equipment manager position, and I need to be grateful.
Mrs. Shravner, my counselor, is a well-meaning woman and the one who said this will open my horizons. Plus it was the only volunteer spot available at the time.
Though she is amazingly generous and probably more flexible than she needs to be, I still feel stuck on the fringe of a nightmare.
However, on the upside of having to wear this frump suit and dole out water to ungrateful jocks, it does help me keep my distance from Marissa's crosshairs.
Something I don't need to be stuck in ever again!
That is a win in my book.
The sun is scorching me from the inside out, and I find myself scanning the field for opportunities to help or hide, whichever is the most convenient.
Either by accident or by coincidence, somewhere on the left side of the field, I see him, Andre, staring straight back at me.
For a second, I can’t breathe—not unusual for me when I'm the object of unwanted affection, or whatever this is.
I can't believe that he would be looking over here. Maybe he's just thirsty, I tell myself as I awkwardly shift my eyes away, feeling insecure and singled out in a matter of moments.
I am a bit startled at this display of recognition. I prefer to keep to myself and try to attract as little attention as possible.
It's hard to wrap my mind around what's happening.
He's everyone's hero, the direct opposite of the role that I play here at this school. Every girl, every cheerleader, is at regular intervals of drooling over this guy.
On the other hand, I’m a nobody.
Well, here anyhow.
I can think of his type, and I can be reasonably sure that it’s not me.
Trying to find another point of focus out there in sports land, I notice that it's more than me who's focusing on Andre.
With a look of violent disgust, I see Marissa lock in on my position. If I've learned anything about her, it's that, at this moment, she is busy calculating her payback.
I try not to engage. I want to sit here drinking my water and minding my damn business and wait for the clock to run all the way out.
I see the girls break, and my stomach turns. Please don't come over here.
Even though it's my job to provide water, even to her in this heat, I want to run to the comfort of the dorm and my books.
"Hey, mama! I see you got you a few extra fans over here." Julisha exclaims with the little breath she has left. I am relieved when I notice her making her way over.
"Yeah, it's awkward, not gonna lie. I think the queen of the bitch squad sees it too," I confess as the anxiety I've been battling starts rearing its ugly head.
"Sis, the last thing I need is that bitch coming for me again and causing me more problems."
"True enough, I hear you. Listen, we are all hot and sweaty and shit. Plus, she's a natural-born bitch, so don't let her get to you, beautiful."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe it's not really what I think. We’re all tired, and I just don’t wanna be here today. I can flex on that," I concede, hoping to make myself feel even the slightest bit better.
Still, as with anything remotely related to Marissa, it's about making sure she's the ultimate center of attention.
Contrary to what one might expect based on what high school cheerleading looks like in the movies, my old school’s cheer team didn't have nearly as much drama as this current group.
For instance, every time one of these girls is gone for a few minutes, everyone assumes she's doing drugs in a bathroom.
They're so petty and destructive.
Definitely not something I have the energy or patience to deal with, except now I have to.
As I watch the cheer team practice on the field below, I can’t help but consider what life would have looked like if I hadn't come here.
Would I be happier there, surrounded by my old friends and familiar surroundings? Or is this new life the one I am meant to have?
I shake my head, trying to push these thoughts out of my mind.
I’m making these decisions, so at the end of the day, I need to move forward with them.
"Yo, Ke, wassup mama?" Dontae's voice startles me, but I bounce back quickly with a friendly smile. "You got a minute, beautiful?"
"I'm on my way back to the lockers, dawg. You ain't supposed to be at practice?"
"Uh, actually..." Dontae scratches the back of his neck, looking all awkward and unable to meet my gaze. "I was wondering if maybe you and me..."
Oh no.
We are NOT doing this right now.
"Oh," I say, my eyes going wide.
"I feel you, Ke. No hard feelings," Dontae says, still wearing that fake smile. "I just thought I'd give it a shot, you know?"
"I get it," I say, trying to be understanding. "It ain't nothing personal, Dontae. I just got my own stuff going on right now."
"I feel you. Well, I'll catch you later, Ke. Gotta get back to practice," he says, turning to walk away.
"See you later," I say, watching as he jogs back to the field.
I sigh, glad that the conversation is over. Dating isn't really on my radar right now, not with everything else going on. I got enough drama as it is.
As Dontae walks away, I catch Marissa giving me the evil eye from across the field.
Then Julisha heads over to me after giving her a sweet ol' shoulder check. The stuff high school dreams are made of.
"You good, girl? What that scrub want with you?" Julisha asks.
She’s a tall, dark-skinned goddess who takes no mess from anyone, and I suppose she’s just the friend I need to make it through all this.
"Nah, I'm good," I say, rolling my eyes. "He just wanted the same thing they all do. When they gonna get it?
“You better watch out, the head bitch is gonna start giving you a hard time for coming over here,”
I giggle as I watch them all huddled over.
“Nah, one of them sprained something, so Imma just chill out over here till she's done being dramatic and shit.”
“Ain't no way I'm dating one of them. Who wants to take the equipment manager out for dinner, seriously?" I laugh. "You know what I'm saying?"
"Girl, I feel you. Ain't nobody got time for that mess. They all think they can just waltz in here and get whatever they want, but they ain't got a chance with you. You deserve better than that. And who cares if you're the equipment manager? You're still fine as hell," Julisha says, giving me a reassuring smile.
"Don't let these boys bring you down. You keep doing you and let them boys come to you.
"And don't let Marissa get to you. She's just jealous of your talent. Don't let her bring you down."
"Thanks, Juju," I say, grateful for her support.
Whether I was better than her seemed beside the point, but all the same, I did appreciate JuJu's sound of reason. Would I have come here if I'd known how petty these girls were? That's the part I'm still working out.
“Oh speak of the devil, that’s my cue.” She sighs as she sucks back the rest of the water. “Catch you on the flipside,” she says with the cheesiest grin that I can’t not laugh, even if I wanted to.
As Julisha returns to finish the routine, I start feeling more fed up with the day.
Against my better judgment, I start counting the minutes to sweet release. I could be doing 10,000 other things, but I am playing water girl in a circus I want no part of.
Then, it happens. That one thing that truly gives me a run for my money, if that's even possible.
After I catch him staring from across the fifty-yard line, Andre, this school's most beautiful, talented creature, I want to curl into a ball and die.
It's killing me when he looks at me like that.
Andre, the QB, is straight-up balling. No surprise he got a scholarship.
He's got a real shot at making it to the NFL. High school level is all sorts of pressure here—ain't just a game anymore.
These dudes we’re cheering on ain't just going head-to-head with other teams. They're trying to catch the eye of scouts looking for the next generation of pros.
Searching for my bag gives me an excuse to keep my eyes down and look for my phone, the only good distraction from this mess.
With success, I decide to go over my list of shit for later, not noticing princesses' shoes turning up in front of me.
"Kiara! Way to do your job!" It’s Marissa in full swing, unable to handle the attention she isn’t getting from me or anyone else.
"For the record," she continues with both hands on her hips and squinting eyes, "you have one job. Try not to screw it up, loser."
She laughs walking away and throws the paper cup full of water behind her and straight at me.
Whatever hope I have of not losing my shit is beginning to run out fast.
Grabbing a napkin from my bag, I mop up the water from my phone, feeling close to tears or total rage. Which one I am not sure, maybe it’s both.
Since practice is done in ten minutes, I decide it’s time to make the hundred-yard dash to the locker rooms—I've got a big project due at the end of the semester for engineering, and I'm not giving it anything less than my best.
As Julisha catches up to me, I instantly feel relieved. In my mind, there's safety in numbers, and with these bitches, you just don't know.
"Don't be taking it personal, dawg," Julisha coos, slinging her arm around my shoulder as she checks her makeup in my locker mirror. "Marissa be hating on everybody—it's a good thing if she hates yo guts. Means she sees you as a threat." She grins.
"I don't wanna be no threat," I sigh, ready to change out of this uniform and get to the lab so I can work out the dimensions for the CAD machine. Her laugh is soft as she smooths her hands down my braids affectionately.
"That's not how it works round here."
"Why not? ’Cause Marissa said so?"
"Cause Marissa's daddy bought her spot on the team," she reminds me. "So, we stuck with her."
"It ain't just Marissa." I slam my locker shut, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. "It's all the little bitches that be encouraging her to—if it was just her, she could be miserable all by her lonesome, but these damn kids are just as bad as her."
"You lucky," she smiles, humor in her eyes. I raise an eyebrow, standing behind her while she gets her things from her locker.
"How I'm lucky?"
"You be so outraged by Marissa ’cause you haven’t had to deal with a Marissa before." She nods toward the door as the dream team finally wander in after their post-practice flirt sesh with the football boys.
Even when I laugh, the smile doesn’t reach my eyes. Marissa huffs at me when Juju and I pass her on our way through the door.
"That ain't sad or nothing?"
Julisha shrugs. "Maybe, but spoiled little white girls always get what they want."
Marissa glares at Julisha but backs down when she flashes right back.
"Oh, don't be looking at me like you don't know you only here 'cause of daddy's money—it sho' ain't yo skill," she scoffs, but we don't bother sticking around to hear what she has to say. Girls like that always feel entitled to the last word, and I'm not in the mood to indulge her.
I wish I were more like Julisha. Sometimes, nothing can phase her.
"Some days, I wonder if it's even worth it,” I say.
She raises an eyebrow at me. "I'd say yo' scholarship pretty worth it."
I sigh, and my shoulders slump. "I know, I know. I'm just so sick of worrying about petty bullshit when I should be focusing on what's important to me."
She nods. "I hate that I have to wear a little skirt and dance for an education." She sighs then punches me in the shoulder. "Okay, queen, I gotta bounce, or there is no way I'm making this study group."
Watching Julisha leave makes me deflate a little, but in this school, the schedule is everything.
"Catch you at dinner?"
"Fo sure!" She giggles as she scurries out the door.
Marissa, the cruel opportunist she was, never misses a beat.
Just as I’m set to leave the locker room, she catches me at the door. Like a pack of wolves, she and the groupies circled in, forcing me backward.
She’s standing in front of me with her arms crossed, a wicked smile crossing her face. "You two think you're so special, don't you?" she sneers. "Well, you're not. You're just a couple of losers who will never amount to anything."
I shrink back against the lockers, trying to make myself as small as possible.
I know Marissa doesn't like me, but I never expected her to turn on me like this.
"I'm warning you," Marissa says, leaning in closer. "Stay out of my way, or you'll regret it. I have a lot of power in this school, and I'm not afraid to use it."
I didn't know what to do. I’m trapped, with no way to escape Marissa's wrath. Tears well in my eyes as I wait for Marissa to make her next move.
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