Double Fated (Book One)

by C.K. Mullinax

  Chapter Seventeen

  News travels faster than a bolt of lightning on campus.

  No one from my squad had actually attended my sorority’s party last night. But, they knew all the details of my Jockstrap #18 take down, anyway. It took me more time than usual to get them settled and dressed, because of it.

  The classroom windows we were getting ready in had been covered with black garbage bags. We didn’t want to risk ruining the big reveal. All of my Cheer Babies and a few key people from the boosters’ club we needed to help us prepare were jammed into one small space. Jarron and I had to perform our warm-up ritual in a cramped corner.

  The walls of the classroom were closing in on me. Feeling claustrophobic, I climbed up on top of a table, sat Indian-style, closed my eyes and mentally distracted myself.

  Freddie and I sat up until after 4:00 in the morning talking. I couldn’t seem to hold myself to my curfew. I was thoroughly enjoying our conversation because he reminded me so much of Zander. It’s been months since I have seen my nephews and niece, my brother, Reid and my sisters. I miss my family so much it physically hurts my heart.

  Near tears from the building emotional storm, I once again diverted myself and considered my conversation with Freddie. I didn’t give him a single hint about the stunt we are pulling off tonight. He will have a front row seat because he will be sitting on the sidelines. I wanted him to be surprised, like all the other players. Just like Zander, he hated being in the spotlight. But, he got shoved into it and like it or not, he’s stuck with what he’s stuck with.

  Freddie’s mom got married for the first time in April of last year. She was never married to his father. He spent his whole life in the wide-open fields of Texas. He had lifelong friends and a long-term girlfriend, too. He had never even left the state to go on vacation. So, when his new stepdad announced that he was getting transferred, Freddie was forced to make a choice. He could stay in Texas and live with his dad. Or, he could move with them.

  His stepdad is a nice guy. And, Freddie is very close to his mom. So, he said goodbye to all he knew and went to Nebraska. But starting a new school so close to the end of the year proved difficult. He spent most of last summer, alone because he didn’t have any neighbors his age or school friends to hang with.

  The only reason he tried out for football was because practice started mid-summer. His stepdad and mom encouraged him to make the effort. He didn’t expect to make the team, but he figured hanging out with guys his age, even for a few days, would be better than sitting home, alone playing his X-box. His incredible, natural talent led the coach to bump the popular first-string quarterback, Justin, to second-string and give an inexperienced and unknown Freddie the slot.

  The team had mixed reactions because they had never played during a winning season. Suddenly, they had a real shot at victory. But, their loyalty was still divided. They knew with Freddie’s amazing talents, they could go all the way. This was evident by the first game of this season.

  The referee ended up calling the match at halftime. Freddie had thrown so many touchdowns that their rivals couldn’t catch up. However, Justin, who is still the team’s captain, had been reduced to playing second-string. He was calling the shots from the sidelines. I can only imagine how hard that pill was to swallow for an eighteen-year-old guy. Freddie felt bad for him too, but he really enjoys playing football. So, he couldn’t bring himself to quit, in order to make Justin feel better.

  Although Freddie claims his high school teammates are friendly towards him, they have never fully accepted him into their inner-circle. The other guys at school shy away from him, too. He still doesn’t have a single, close male friend or any understanding why the non-athletes treat him like he’s a leper.

  I know non-jocks are intimidated by guys on sport’s teams because they can easily end up as targets of their childish harassment. The regular boys don’t realize Freddie is just an extremely talented kid playing a game called football. He isn’t “one of them”.

  I almost revealed that fact to Freddie but what good would knowing their reason do him? It’s not like he can waltz into his school and announce he’s not a real team player. So, the option of him having close male comrades – on the team or off – is virtually non-existent.

  Freddie does, however, get plenty of female attention; too much, in fact. From what I could gather, he still keeps in touch with his girlfriend in Texas and has promised not to cheat on her. But, females throw themselves at him and resisting their very overt advances is a huge challenge – especially at his age.

  That girl-frenzy he’s experiencing will not change anytime in his near future. In fact, if any of my sorority sisters knew the first thing about football, and that Freddie has an almost surefire lock on impending NFL stardom, they would be throwing more than their unmentionables his way.

  I actually feel sorry for the guy. Nothing in his sheltered life had prepared him for what’s in store. He seems to have two sets of loving parents. But, none of them tagged along on any of his college outings. They erroneously believe that the coaches monitor him. This is the fifth university he has visited. From what he tells me, our sorority party is mild in comparison to some of the others he’s been to. He also hinted that his record of fidelity might have been derailed, twice.

  Praying that he is using protection, I was not comfortable talking to him about sexual relationships – especially sitting in my bedroom. However, my g-mom and Grandma Edie could provide him with some much needed schooling in life-lessons…

  I was considering how I could arrange that meeting when the coaching assistant barged into the middle of our covert operation. Zack always provides me with an update, but he typically finds me long before kick-off.

  Spirit week is a killer for Zack. He looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep for a month. We are both sporting identical eye baggage. At least mine is covered up under layers of cosmetics and face paint.

  Zack reeks of stale coffee and cigarettes. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t even look up. Focused on his playbook, he ran into Arley and apologized without skipping a beat.

  The coaches will never let him live it down, if we rush the field and he keels over in shock. We are completely dressed, but Zack is wrapped up in his own chaotic world. I stifled a giggle.

  My squad finds his state of oblivion hilarious. The entire time he spent updating me they were making fun of him. I had to fall back on my acting skills to not burst into laughter. Jarron was doing a perfect imitation of Coach Nullis’ infamous rigid-stance-and-stare down, while Billy was mirroring Zack’s every movement with a pretend clipboard.

  “Listen quick…Coach W. wanted me to double check that you’ve got your ducks in order. Crowd hype? All pep-n-smiles? No mistakes? No taking breaks? Tough it out and play through the pain if someone gets hurt…well, do your best with that one. G’s got all of your music cued, right? And, some video you’ve got…you’re sure G’s ready on that, too?” he asked.

  I wordlessly nodded my affirmations while Zack checked off the boxes on his preparedness sheet.

  “Coach N. also said something about you promising a big stunt or a prank. When’s that gonna happen?” he inquired, looking me straight in the eye.

  Everyone in the room snickered and Jarron doubled over. I was truly worried that he might rupture something, trying to hold in his laughter.

  “Probably at the beginning…” I replied, losing my battle and snickering with the others.

  “Check that…” Zack remarked and continued on, still unaware.

  “Will you agree to have the players carry out, at least a couple of your Cheer-girl Babies on their shoulders?”

  “Take a guess…” I responded, succinctly.

  “I already checked it as “no go”, but I’ve gotta ask if it’s on the list. Wait, that’s my phone. Gimme a minute,” he stated and answered his ringing cell.

  Coach Nullis makes Zack ask
me that same question before every game. The football players are strong enough, but their safety gear is unstable. When we first started dating, Lyle carelessly attempted to toss me over his shoulder after his first win. Fortunately, Jarron was close enough to break my fall. My spotter is strong and muscular, but he wasn’t prepared for my spill. My nose was less than a half inch away from the earth by the time Jarron stopped my rapid descent.

  Lyle sprained his elbow trying to catch me.

  Jarron twisted his knee from turning too abruptly.

  And, I got an ugly, painful bruise on my hip.

  Coach Nullis and Coach Wibley had a massive meltdown because Lyle could have ruined his career showboating for some “short skirt”. They never once asked if Jarron or I had sustained an injury. Their lack of concern wasn’t surprising, though. The coaches and the players don’t consider cheerleading, a sport and don’t believe we are athletes. They think of us more as their support staff.

  That is ironic because we practice more often and much longer than they do. In addition to practicing, we also lift weights, swim and run. Plus, we perform dangerous aerial stunts wearing no protective gear, whatsoever.

  All of my male Cheer Babies and most of my females’ are highly skilled and trained gymnasts. Although no one is aware of it, my family set up full-ride, minority scholarships to attract the nation’s best male cheerleaders’ to my university. My g-mom even hired four scouts to headhunt rising high school talent. But gymnast or not, I consider everyone on my squad as a serious athlete.

  I was used to hearing the head coach’s request and I normally, have some snarky comeback for Zack to deliver. It was everything I could do to maintain without falling off the table. So, I offered that directed comment and promptly, shut up.

  “Sorry ‘bout that. Rival game, too many big-wigs wanting a ton of high dollar crap, personally delivered to their seats, courtesy of yours truly. You get the drill, right?” Zack inquired, but continued before I could respond. “Coach N. says you might balk at this suggestion, but I’ve gotta talk you into it. He wants your squad to perform your winning routine, along with whatever else you’ve got to wow the crowd, during half-time,” he told me.

  “No mats…we’re not dressed for it,” I managed to say.

  “I’ll take care of having the mats set-up, anywhere you want. I’ll even stall the crowd with a personal striptease so everyone in here can change during the game. You’ve gotta agree and make it happen. I’d really appreciate it, Krista! Coach N. is demanding that I put on the showstopper of football showstoppers’ – as if, I can somehow make our players win. I’ll let you all know when I start walkin’ on water.

  “Even if I had some way to orchestrate a ‘W’ for our boys, my calendar’s too jammed-up to make it happen. I’m chain smokin’ and making calls while I’m completin’ my A.M. run. Basically, I’m hardly breathing and food’s a memory. Between tryin’ to find some fancy imported chocolates for Miss Diva Snagglepuss in seating box 7 and some rare wine from Napa Valley for Mr. Bigger Diva Personality in seating box 9, I’m ready to toss in my whistle.

  “So, I’ll owe you big, if you can make that regional routine happen during half-time, Head Missy?”

  Normally, I would sarcastically remind Zack that this C.B.C.’s name isn’t “Head” or “Missy”. But, the best I could do tonight was nod, once and wipe the tears of unspent comedy from my eyes. I thought my lungs might just explode as I wrestled to contain my giggles. Zack is still trapped in overloaded football world and hasn’t noticed a single one of us.

  “I’ll mark that as ‘ready’, but an audible answer would make me feel better…”

  “Do…our best…” I squeaked, visibly convulsing.

  “That’s my C.B.C. Girl! Now, in the stands tonight, let’s see…” he stated and flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “Ah yes, long list, here goes. The VIP’s include Freddie Orion, next season’s all-star QB…well, hopefully. He’s sitting sidelines. Two…no, make that, three NFL scouts, typical head-hunting activities – runnin’ around the sidelines too. Stick’s dad’s here, plus his wife and congressman buddy – on the fifty. I’ve got almost a full page of lucrative contributors that we need to keep schmoozing for more dollars for the athletic programs. The chancellor and the vice chancellor, plus families…a couple of celebrities – no names mentioned. One professional baseball player…his say’s “plus one, but not his wife”. That entry has an exclamation point. So, if anyone meets Mr. Homerun Record don’t mention anything about the woman who’s hangin’ on his arm. She might be his mistress. I’ve only got his initials. Oh well…

  “Cameras will be live, as usual. I think that’s all. You got anything for me to relay??”

  Once again, he looked right through me, totally missing the world’s largest picture.

  “Just inform them…the boosters’ club will be welcoming the team when they rush the tunnel. We’ll be makin’ our entrance after both teams are announced. Oh, and coaches and players should keep their eyes peeled…for items of interest…” I stammered out between snickers.