by Dana Burkey
“I’m ready,” I said, before setting my bag down and racing back into my room to grab socks. When I returned a few seconds later my dad was laughing.
“Spark performs in an hour and a half, so we have plenty of time,” he explained between his laughter. “Why don’t you sit for a minute and eat breakfast. I’ll load up the car.”
Nodding, I moved to pour myself a bowl of cereal, pausing to head into my room yet again when I remembered my phone sitting on my bed. Once I was finally sitting at the table, I was able to calm down. At least as much as I could. It helped when I saw most of the missed texts were just ones I didn’t read from the night before. They were about plans for slumber parties and other fun get-togethers over the next week and were most of the reason why I was up late enough to miss my alarms. I replied to a few of the messages, then updated my Instagram and Snapchats before my dad returned.
“You might want a coat,” he said, sitting down to once again drink from his coffee mug. “It’s not raining much anymore but it’s still pretty chilly.”
I nodded, making the mental note to grab another layer on my way to the car. I knew my teal team hoodie was hanging up in my room, which would make my dad and I match. Although people often told me I looked a lot like my dad, I knew I got most of my looks from my mom. Sure, I had my dad’s dark brown hair, but my eyes were nothing like the grey-green of his. Instead, my blue eyes matched my mom’s, although mine were a brighter blue than all the memories and photos I have of her from before she died. The lighter shade could have been thanks to the chemo treatments, but either way, I saw her features when I looked in the mirror more than my dad’s. So knowing my clothing would help my dad and I look a little more alike was fine by me.
The letters on my dad’s shirt, much like my hoodie, were covered in a thick layer of silver glitter. The only difference was that while his simply announced that he was a cheer dad and had the words “GO MAX” on the back, my hoodie was emblazoned with the TNT Force Logo. It was a logo that covered most of my clothing since joining the cheerleading gym a year and a half ago.
“Okay,” I tried again. “Now I’m really ready this time.”
After taking my now empty cereal bowl to the sink, I returned to my room for the final trip of the morning to grab my hoodie. I slipped it on then walked to the front door so I could pull on my running shoes. I then made sure to give both of my cats, Thunder and Lightning, a quick scratch under their chins before walking outside to my dad’s waiting car. As expected, both of my neighbors were waiting for us to depart.
“Did you sleep in or something?” Peter asked as I moved to climb into the back of the car behind the passenger seat.
“Maybe,” I shrugged, then busied myself with settling into the car.
Opening my makeup bag that was sitting in the middle of the back seat, I used the mirror mounted on the back of the headrest in front of me to start getting my face ready for the day. I wouldn’t put the last of the glittery and dramatic makeup on until I was getting ready to take the stage and perform. But even still, I wanted to put on at least the base layer of everything so I wouldn’t need to spend too much time finishing while I was waiting to cheer.
“This is your last competition before the big one, right?” The question was from Kyle who was climbing into the back seat with me. When I nodded, he continued, “Are you nervous?”
“For this one? No,” I said easily, while putting on foundation to help my tan skin look a little darker. “I’m a little nervous about Worlds, but only a little. It’s basically like going to Summit last year, just a little bigger. And more important.”
“And more people are watching.”
The comment came from Peter who had turned around in his seat to join the conversation. Although he was right, I simply went back to putting on my makeup. Usually we had an hour or more in the car, but since we only had a 20-minute drive I knew I needed to work fast. Brushing my short brown hair out of my face, I did the step by step makeup routine I had been performing all season.
Peter and Kyle moved on from the conversation about Worlds, knowing that talking about the international cheerleading competition was clearly a topic I was trying to avoid. Well, that and I really did need to focus on getting ready. Although they were just my neighbors, they were basically my brothers and attended almost all my cheerleading competitions every season. The only ones they missed were the out of town two-day competitions, and of course, they weren't going to be traveling with us for the week-long Worlds tournament in Florida. Although, if they happened to show up suddenly I would only be a little surprised.
“Your phone’s buzzing,” Kyle announced, holding up my cell for emphasis.
“Anyone important?”
“Just Snapchats from Connor,” he replied, then sat my phone back in the cup holder where I had placed it when I loaded into the car.
“You’re not going to even see what he sent?” Peter asked, turning in his seat to once again join the conversation.
“I’ll check once I’m done with my makeup,” I shrugged.
In reply, Peter raised one eyebrow then turned back in his seat to face forward. The facial expression looked so weird on him since he shaved his head. His forehead used to be covered by a fringe of his black hair, but now it was little more than a short stubble covering his head. It made all his expressions more extreme, drawing your focus even more to his green eyes and dark tan skin. Kyle looked the same as Peter; although thankfully he didn’t get his hair cut quite as short. It was one of the only things that made it easy to tell the boys apart, especially now that Kyle was starting to get almost as tall as Peter. He was also filling out from conditioning for basketball, making both boys both taller and much more muscular than I was. Or at least muscular in the traditional sense. After all, I could still tumble and fly and dance as well as anyone at the TNT Force gym. All of which took a different kind of strength and muscle.
“Alright, good enough,” I said mostly to myself as I began to pack up my makeup a short while later. “How much longer until we get there?”
“About 5 minutes,” my dad answered.
Once I finished cramming the rest of my makeup into my glittery teal bag I got to work replying to the many texts and messages that had begun popping up since I got into the car. I replied to a few, then updated my Snapchat story so everyone could see I was about to arrive at the competition. In fact, as I sent the final message out, I looked up to see that we were turning into the small parking lot at the competition arena. Ready or not, it was time to go!
An hour later I stood in front of the stage, waiting with my friends and fellow athletes for Spark to take the floor. The junior level 4 team was performing next, and along with many other athletes, my two best friends were going to be on the mat. Despite the fact that I wasn’t performing, I found myself getting nervous. Which was especially odd since I rarely got anxious even when I was about to perform. But still, I could feel the nervousness building until the athletes in the black, white, and orange uniforms took the stage.
“You got this Lexi,” I called out as loud as I could once they began finding their starting positions. “Let’s go Halley!”
Neither girl responded to me, likely because they couldn’t hear me over the roar of others also calling out encouragement. All of that was drowned out a second later when their music began, sending the 32 co-ed athletes into action. Just as they had dozens of times before, each athlete on the mat ran and jumped and cheered, hitting every pose and position just right. Lexi was often high above the mat, lifted by Halley or other bases on the team. She would hold her body in positions she once had to teach me, back when I first joined the gym and entered the world of all-star cheerleading.
The music seemed to reach a crescendo as a voiceover reminded those watching to, “Pay attention now, cuz the Sparks are just starting.” Then, in time to a high pitched but familiar sound effect I called out with those around me, the athletes on the mat performed their standing jumps. We yell
ed hit three times in a row, each yelled as athletes leap off the ground to perform either a toe touch or hurdler. Then, finally, we all yelled pull as each person on the mat performed a back tuck. It was the last of the ‘easy’ part of the routine, leading into their difficult pyramid and high energy dance. But, as always, they performed like professionals and reached their final pose right on time with the music.
“I didn’t see any deductions,” Connor said turning to me with a smile.
“Me either,” I agreed easily.
I turned then, walking with the crowd of supporters towards where the members of Spark were going to emerge from backstage. Around me, other athletes from my gym also walked with the flow of the crowd, but the group was largely made up of parents whose kids were on Spark. Everyone else from the gym was either in warm-ups or didn’t need to be at the competition quite so early. I, along with a few of my friends, on the other hand, always made sure to be there to cheer on Lexi and Halley even if it meant getting to the competition area a few hours early.
“So, what do you think,” Connor asked as we stood aside to let parents get a spot closest to the backstage curtain. “Will they keep up their winning streak?”
“Of course,” I nodded. “The only other gym in their division barely threw any whips. There’s no way Spark will lose to a bunch of back tucks.”
The comment was one of many I made every week that gave me pause. They were common enough phrases for me now, but less than two years prior I never would have imagined those words coming out of my own mouth. Not only was I talking about cheerleading, I was talking about it like a seasoned pro. Mostly since, in a way, that’s what I was.
After joining the gym on a trial basis, thanks to a bribe from my dad, I entered the TNT Force Cheer gym at the end of the summer, expecting to be long gone before school even started. But, thanks to amazing friends like Lexi, Halley, and Connor, there were weeks I was at the gym more than I was at home or even school. The place had become a second home for me, especially after winning not one but two first place titles at Summit. It was an international cheerleading competition in Florida that gave me my first real taste of what Worlds might be like. So now, just two weeks until my level 5 team and I would be traveling to the event every cheerleader dreamed of, I was able to easily spout cheer lingo with the best of them.
“How was it?”
Glancing in the directions of the words spoken to me, I was excited to see both Lexi and Halley racing towards me. They were like twins in their matching uniforms, orange cheer bows, and massive smiles. Even their makeup matched, drawing attention to their bright blond hair. Other than the fact that Halley had brown eyes and Lexi had blue, the only real difference between the two was their size. Halley had a good 5 inches on Lexi and had a much more filled out body. She wasn’t ‘chubby’ or ‘fat’ by anyone’s standards but standing next to someone short and thin like Lexi, anyone looked big. Or rather anyone but myself, thanks to her recent growth spurt. Sure, she was only an inch taller than me, but considering she was younger than me I wasn’t too thrilled all the same.
“You guys did great!” I announced as my friends both hugged me at the same time. “The pyramid has never looked better.”
“Nice tumbling Halley,” Connor threw in once the girls were done hugging me and acknowledged him as well.
“Thanks,” she grinned, before glancing over her shoulder. “We have to go watch playback. See you guys in a little bit.”
With little more than a goodbye, the girls turned and followed their team to where a parent was standing with an iPad. At most competitions, we could watch a replay of our routine in a booth somewhere at the competition site. When one wasn’t provided, coaches always made sure the team had something to watch their routine on once they were off the mat. Even though they had hit every part of their routine without a single flaw, it was important to watch it over again in case there were little things they could make even better.
“Well, only 4 hours until we head to warm-ups,” Connor said once the athletes from Spark were gone. “What should we do now?”
“Nachos,” I said simply.
“Nachos?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I smelled them on the way in earlier and if I don’t get some I might actually drool on the stage when we perform later.”
“We can’t have that,” Connor said with a laugh. “Nachos it is I guess.”