by Romi Hart
“Kinda,” I admitted.
Beaux took the mic in his hand as he came toward us. Jasmine’s expression went from wonder to ‘what the fuck’ in an instant. “Alex? What’s happening?”
“Hi there, Jasmine,” Beaux greeted her. “How was your dinner?”
The spotlight that had followed him grew to include her in it. She went pale then blushed. “Good. Thank you.”
“How’d you like my performance, Jasmine?” he asked her as I took the chance to move out of my seat as he had her full attention and the spotlight on her had it impossible for her to see what I was doing.
Pulling the ring out of my pocket. I fought back the nerves that were brewing inside of me.
Was I really about to do this?
Jasmine’s voice wobbled as she answered the singer, “It was great. I loved it.”
"Good, good," he said and handed the mic to me, and the spotlight grew to incorporate Jasmine and me, leaving him in the dark.
Jasmine’s eyes went to me, and when she saw that I was on one knee in front of her, her hands flew to cover her mouth, and her eyes glistened.
“Hi, Jas,” I said with a sly smile.
“Hi, Alex,” she whispered behind her hands.
“Mind if I ask you a question?” I teased her.
She finally dropped her hands away from her mouth, and I saw one tear escape. “Okay.”
“You know how I love you, right?” I beat around the bush.
She nodded and gulped. “I do.”
“You know how I love having you with me all the time, right?”
She nodded. “I do.”
I liked the way she was answering me and thought I’d love hearing her say those same words in the near future as a priest asked her a few questions.
My heart was pounding, for reasons I was unsure of. I mean, I was pretty sure she'd say yes to my question, but still, there was that nagging doubt that asked me, ‘What if she turns you down, bro?'
But I pushed that doubt to the side and showed her the engagement ring I’d hid from her for a solid week. “So with all that in mind, I’d like to ask you if you’d like to spend the rest of your life with me? As my wife?”
She gasped and nodded as tears streamed down her reddened cheeks and she held out her left hand. I slid the one-karat diamond ring onto her slender finger as the rest of the restaurant’s patrons clapped and cheered for us.
“Yes, Alex! Yes, I’ll marry you,” she cried out as she got up and I did too. We hugged then kissed as the cheering went on.
I’d heard cheers most all of my life as I played soccer. And they had always made me feel excited and happy. But the cheers I was hearing then were incomparable to all those I’d heard before. I was nearly overwhelmed with emotion.
These cheers were for Jasmine and me and the love we’d found for each other and would never let go of.
One Cheer To Win
1
Kassie
I had dreamed of this day since I was a little Pop Warner cheerleader. In the den with my family, I grew up watching LSU football games religiously. We were die hard Tiger fans.
Geaux Tigers!
Of course, I loved football, but my favorite parts of the telecast were the close-ups of the cheerleaders. All I wanted to be was just like them.
And now, I was one of them. There I was cheering at my very first college football game ever. In my yellow and purple cheerleading outfit and my big purple bow in my hair, I was finally one of those LSU cheerleaders I’d grown up seeing on TV. It was a dream come true.
My parents had five kids and worked hard as shrimp fishermen. Shrimping had been a way of life for my family for several generations, but the shrimping business had gotten more and more competitive. Without the cheerleading scholarship LSU offered me, I wouldn’t have been able to go to college. All those cheer competitions and practices paid off.
Lots of my classmates in high school dismissed my cheerleading ambitions as a silly hobby, but I knew that cheerleading would be my ticket to an education and greatness, in general. Mama always said that if I worked hard enough and believed in myself, I could accomplish anything.
Humblebrag: And I did it. I was an LSU cheerleader!
My chest swelled with pride, standing there, looking up at the stands. With my team on the sidelines, I chanted in earnest our famous ‘Hot Boudin’ cheer. “Hot boudin! Cold coush-coush! Come on tigers! Push push push!”
I made sure to smile big for the cameras, just in case, a little girl like I once was, was watching. I even winked for effect, loving the thrill of being on the field for a televised game.
Boudin was what we called sausage down in Louisiana. I was from New Orleans where I grew up eating Cajun boudin, my absolute fave. Boudin was such a well-worn tradition in Louisiana, convenience stores along Interstate 10 sold them right out of the rice cookers. It was so good.
I loved Louisiana, the LSU Tigers, and Cajun food. So, ‘Hot Boudin’ was my favorite cheer. When I was a little girl, all dressed up in my cheerleading uniform, I’d cheer along with the cheerleaders on the TV, following their lead.
But finally, it was me leading fans in the stadium and at home in the celebrated cheer. Me!
Mama, Daddy, and my brothers and sisters were watching the game at home, huddled in the den. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
My family had called me that morning. I’d already been up, getting a head start with my Chemistry homework. Environmental Engineering was a tough program at LSU, and I intended to not let it get the best of me.
The junior and senior cheerleaders on the squad warned the freshman not to get behind on our studies. Cheering and schoolwork made for a demanding schedule. They also warned us to not let our partying get out of hand. Poor grades would lead to being kicked off the team. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.
I came to LSU for two things: 1. My engineering degree. 2. To cheer.
When my family called, they were all on speakerphone: Mama, Daddy, Jeanie, James, Lilah, and baby Toby.
“We can’t wait to see you today on TV, Kassie Lee,” my mom said in a chipper voice.
My dad’s voice bellowed, “The Tigers are gonna win this one against Crimson Tide, no doubt. You’re going to do great today, pumpkin.”
“I miss you,” Lilah, my sweet seven-year-old little sister said.
“I miss all of you too so much.” I held the phone close to my ear.
“Do you miss me?” James said while crunching on something, most likely his beloved Apple Jacks. I could hear baby Toby cooing in the background.
I heard Mama say, “James, Kassie doesn’t need to hear your chewing.”
“Yes, I miss all of you,” I cried. “I miss you all so much.”
Jeanie, the second oldest at sixteen, asked, “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Jeanie. You’re going to love college too. You’ll be here in a couple years with me. It’s going to be great.”
“Okay. We’ll let you get back to studying. Just wanted to tell you that we’ll be looking out for your beautiful smile during the game, sweetheart,” my mom’s voice cracked.
“Mom, are you crying?” My heart thumped.
James, Jeanie, and Lilah chimed, “Yes.” Baby Toby giggled.
“Tears of joy, baby.” My mom sniffled. “Geaux get ‘em today!”
We ended the call with the ‘Geaux Tigers’ cheer.
I missed my family so much, but it made me happy to think about them at home watching the game.
“Hot boudin,” I belted out, happily. “Cold coush-coush!” As I sang, I saw a super hot guy in the bleachers, looking down in my direction. He had strong broad shoulders and emerald green eyes. He was smoking hot. Even from where I was, I could see his sculpted biceps and thick forearms. I smiled up at him.
But wait. Was he even looking at me?
Then, I remembered. Who was I kidding? Helena was cheering right behind me. He was most likely staring at her. Everyone stared at her. She had dark
raven hair and the brightest blue eyes. She had that Snow White look going for her. Guys loved it.
“Come on tigers! Push! Push! Push!” the crowd cheered along. The energy on the field was electric. The Tigers were leading Crimson Tide by ten points. The fans were hyped up.
The hot guy kept looking in my direction so I had no choice but to smile right back at him just in case, he was looking at me. This time, he smiled back.
I tried to keep my cool. No biggie. Just that the hottest guy in the world smiled at me.
On the next play, Number 25, LSU Tiger, Tom Morrison went out for a shallow pass on a goal-line play and caught it.
Touchdown!
The stadium lit up in a roar. The band exploded into ‘Hold That Tiger.’ The jubilant tune roared from the marching band section. After every touchdown, the band played that song, and the cheerleaders led the crowd in spelling ‘T-I-G-E-R-S’ at the end.
“T-I-G-E-R-S!” I screamed. The excitement from the happy fans was infectious. I went for a backhand somersault. When I landed, I looked in the stands for the hot guy. He was staring right at me. Helena was nowhere near me.
So he is looking at me!
I made sure to give him a gigantic smile. He smiled back at me.
OMG!
I suddenly felt giddy inside. Who was this mystery man?
When we took a water break, I decided to investigate. Helena was a senior and knew everybody on campus. I whispered in her ear, “There’s a guy in the stands. He has on a yellow LSU hat.”
Helena looked up into the crowd. “There are a ton of guys in yellow LSU hats.”
“This guy is four rows up on your left,” I said, trying to play it cool. “Look, but don’t be too obvious.” I nudged Helena as she turned her head to look. “But don’t look right now, he’s looking right at us.”
Helena laughed and bopped my ponytail. “Kassie, you’re too adorable.” She sipped her water bottle while looking down at the ground. “Can I look yet?”
The mystery guy was talking to his friend. “Yes. Look now. Hurry. Four rows up. Left.”
Helena glanced up, following my instructions. She turned back around to me and smiled. “That’s Ryan Romero. He’s our star pitcher on the baseball team. A senior. And very very dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” I asked intrigued.
“He’s a player, Kassie. He breaks girls’ hearts on the reg. He’s gorgeous, but not worth it.”
“Ew. Really? Well, that’s def not my thing.” I shook my head, grossed out.
Helena put a hand on my arm. "Good. You're too sweet for a jerk like that." She bopped the bow in my ponytail again before checking her makeup with her pocket mirror. "You deserve a nice guy."
When our water break was over, we got back out there to cheer. Ryan’s eyes were all over me. It felt like he was watching me more than the game.
It was really too bad that he was a bad boy. I didn't need that kind of distraction. Bad boys were too much trouble and not worth it at all.
I had a packed schedule as it was. And, remember: I came to LSU for two things: 1. My engineering degree. 2. To cheer.
My top two goals did not and would not include wasting my time with a bad boy, no matter how gorgeous he was.
I looked up at the stands at Ryan. He smiled right at me, but I looked away and focused my eyes on a little girl in the stands as I cheered. I smiled big for her, and she waved at me.
Quickly, my eyes darted back over to Ryan. He looked confused by my diss.
Good. A guy like him needed to be rejected more often. I bet he got any girl he wanted and then dumped her after one night.
What a jerk.
When I looked over at him again, because I couldn’t help myself, he smiled and shrugged his shoulders, holding his arms out. I looked away without letting my face betray me. He was great to look at, but it was too bad he wasn’t a nice guy. I whipped my eyes away from his.
In my book, bad boys deserved to be ignored. So that’s what I did to Mr. Ryan Romero.
2
Ryan
At the first football game of the season, I spotted a new gorgeous blonde cheerleader. She must have been a freshman because I’d never seen her before. It wasn’t just that she was tall and toned with a terrific rack. Although, those things are what caught my eye. When she cheered, her baby blue eyes lit up.
Her entire face just glowed as she chanted. She had this way of cheering and looking into the crowd as if she wanted to truly connect with the fans. She looked to be enjoying herself, and it really showed. From where I sat, I could feel an electrical connection between us whenever we made eye contact.
Her facial expressions, alone, as she sang out ‘Hot Boudin’ were priceless. As she cheered, she would look over at me, smiling. As an Argentinian, my sausage of choice was chorizo, of course, but the way she cheered that song, I suddenly wanted to sink my teeth into the Louisiana treat. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning like a fool at her.
Smiling back at girls was not my usual game. Girls loved dudes that ignored them. The more you ignored a girl, the more she wanted you. These tactics had worked since high school, all the way until college. Girls were suckers for guys who acted like they didn’t care.
“Come on Tigers! Push, push, push!” The new cheerleader’s hips swayed back and forth as she cheered. Her uniform fit her nice and snug. This girl was gorgeous and her body movements were mesmerizing.
When the Tigers scored a touchdown, she did an impressive backflip, that I swear she did just for me. I was pretty impressed by her flexibility. My mind wandered to how fun her flexible limbs and acrobatic prowess would be in bed.
I was majoring in Kinesiology. The physiological, biomechanical, and psychological mechanisms of body movement fascinated me. I had pored over research on the proper biomechanics of baseball pitching to prevent injury and improve my performance. My desire to become a great pitcher fueled my Kinesiology studies.
There were six phases of motion in an overhand baseball pitch. Every body movement can be broken down into parts. I hadn’t done a biomechanical analysis of a backhand somersault, but the new cheerleader’s movements looked to be flawless. I would kill to do a biomechanical analysis on her tight body. I had to meet her.
The cheerleaders took a water break, and I noticed the new cheerleader talking with Helena Baker. Helena and I were acquaintances, simply because we were both in sports and seniors. She was kind of an icy snow queen. Ever since she stopped dating a running back on the football team, her demeanor towards sports guys grew even chillier.
It was like she suddenly had something against guys like me. I didn’t know Helena’s ex-boyfriend personally, but from what I heard, he put her through the ringer. Helena seemed anti-athletes after that relationship ended.
After the water break, the new cheerleader refused to really look at me. There was no way I could practice my ignore tactics if she was ignoring me first. I cringed. I shouldn't have been smiling right at her for so long.
The new cheerleader was already taking me for granted. I needed to let her know who was in charge. I had failed at that from smiling like a goon the entire game.
I wondered if Helena told her anything about me. Rolling my eyes, Helena knew everybody. There were some unsavory stories floating around there about me.
Had Helena warned the new cheerleader about me?
The new girl was gorgeous, but I was Ryan Romero, the star pitcher for the LSU Tigers. I could get any girl I wanted with a snap of my fingers.
I tried again with the new cheerleader when she finally looked over at me again. Shrugging my shoulders and mocking a sad face, I waited for her response. Girls usually loved my pouty face. She was going to fall for my winning pout: hook, line, and sinker.
To my surprise, she looked away from me, directing her attention to another area of the stands. Suddenly, I felt pretty stupid.
Neil nudged my arm. “What are you doing?”
I relaxed my shoulders and dropped my fake po
ut, looking at him. “See that new cheerleader.” I motioned with my chin.
“Ya. The blonde? She’s cute.” Neil threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“I was trying to get her attention.” I watched as she interacted with the crowd but refused to look up at me again.
Neil looked at the cheerleader. “Yup. It’s not working.”
The new girl’s rejection rankled inside of me. Girls didn’t reject me. Girls were always killing themselves to hang out with me. This girl wouldn’t even look my way.
Whatever Helena told her, must have left quite an impression.
I would have to change up my game tactics with this one. The new girl was a prize that I had every intention of winning.
I would not be ignored.
An opportunity presented itself when I saw her and another cheerleader head to the concession stand.
I turned to Neil. “You need anything? I’m going to grab some food.”
Neil lifted up his drink, giving it a slurp. “I could use another soda.”
“Cool. Be right back.” I was in a hurry to get down there to talk to the new girl.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Neil asked, motioning to stand up.
“No. I got it.” I pushed him back down.
Neil’s eyes narrowed. “What are you up to? You hate fetching stuff for people.” His eyes followed mine, as I watched the new girl get in line at the concession stand.
“Oh. I should have known this was about a girl.” He clapped me on the back. “Get me a hot dog, too. Good luck. Hope you get her attention this time.”
Brushing his hand off my shoulder, I flexed my arms. “These guns will get her attention.”
Neil laughed. "Maybe. Let's hope she isn't into personalities." His voice dropped an octave into a sing-song tune. "Spoiler alert: You don't have one."
Playfully, I punched Neil in the shoulder. Neil and I both played on the baseball team. He was an amazingly great shortstop and friend, despite his constant teasing.
I pointed at my face. “At least, I have this pretty face.”