Say Yes to the Cheerleader

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Say Yes to the Cheerleader Page 14

by Abby Crofton


  She pulled away from me slightly, and I immediately missed her warmth. “Are you okay?” she whispered, out of breath.

  “Yeah,” I responded in between gasps of my own, staring up at her swollen lips and tangled hair. I brought my hands to the sides of her face, and she gave my right palm a quick kiss before she slipped off of me and rested against my side on the bed. Instead of gentle blue eyes, I was now looking at the white of my bedroom ceiling. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm my pounding heart.

  “Sorry about that,” she whispered into my shoulder. Her hands were tucked up underneath her chin, and when I looked down at her, all I could see was the top of her head.

  “There's nothing to be sorry for,” I said, turning over onto my side and sliding down so that our faces were level. “That was great. Probably a bit too great, but nothing to apologize for.” I hoped the smile in my voice matched the one on my face. Just thinking about the last few minutes had me suppressing a shiver of pleasure.

  Kate was still for a few seconds before she unfurled one of her arms and pulled me closer to her body. I, of course, willingly went. I was beginning to suspect I would go anywhere she led me.

  “I got a little carried away,” she admitted when I was finally able to cajole her into meeting my eyes. With a little smile, she said mischievously, “But since I never hear you curse, I guess I did something right.”

  Now it was my turn to hide my face. We giggled on the bed, lying next to each other and exchanging chaste kisses. We could not stop touching each other, whether it was me tucking a lock of loose hair behind Kate’s ear and taking the opportunity to ghost my fingers over her cheek, or Kate running her hand up and down my exposed side, investigating all the ridges and flats of my body. We talked some, but not much, mostly focusing on how cute we thought the other was. If I’d been an outsider looking at us, I would have been sickened by the sappiness we were displaying.

  After some time, I stretched and rolled over onto my back. Kate sat up and looked down at me, a line forming over her furrowed eyebrows.

  “Are you sure your parents are okay with us being in your room together. Alone?” she asked worriedly. This topic had come up before, and I reassured her just as I had previously.

  “Stop worrying. They aren’t going to knock the door down and barge in here demanding that you stop corrupting their daughter.” I was pretty sure my parents knew we were not really studying up here, but I would rather not get into a discussion with them about what exactly we were doing. We were only making out, but as demonstrated, lately things had been getting more heated between Kate and me. I knew we should probably talk about that soon, but I pushed that thought to the side and focused instead on enjoying my time with the girl on my bed.

  “I know that. It’s just sort of weird that your parents are so cool about us. I don’t know, I guess I expected a more parent-like reaction from them,” she said as she shrugged.

  I gave her a disbelieving look. “Do you want them to act more like your parents did the first time I came over to your house?” I asked archly.

  “Oh god no!” she exclaimed.

  “I'd much rather not discuss either of our parental units,” I said.

  She poked me in the side. “Yeah, don’t ever mention my parents whenever we are alone on a bed together.” We burst into fits of laughter.

  “Well you’re the one who brought up the subject of parents in the first place.” I was rewarded with her tongue stuck out at me. It was somewhat arousing.

  After calling a truce, we lay side by side on my bed, staring at the ceiling and just enjoying each other’s presence. Kate broke the silence after a few minutes.

  “So,” she started hesitantly, “prom is coming up in a couple of weeks.”

  She left the statement hanging, and I wasn't sure what to say. I had of course been aware that prom was coming up—it was hard to ignore all the posters up at school, in addition to Marie dragging me to stores in the search of the “perfect dress.” She had been asked by a boy from one of her classes and was excited to be going to dinner and sharing a limo with a group from school.

  Marie had actually brought up the prom last week. She’d asked if Kate and I were going and if we wanted to go with the group she had set up, or if we were doing something on our own. I told her truthfully that Kate and I had not talked about the prom and that we probably were not going.

  Now that Kate was bringing it up, though, I was second-guessing the way I’d dismissed it with Marie. Did Kate want to go to prom? With me?

  Kate was even more hesitant after my lack of response. “Have you thought about going? To prom? I know we haven't talked about it, but I thought it might be fun. Jenny told me Marie is going, and Jenny is planning a group thing with a couple other girls who don't have dates, so if we don't want go with them, we could do our own thing. If you want to go.”

  That was something else that had happened over the past couple of weeks. Marie and Jenny Jeffries, my best friend and my worst enemy, were basically friends now. I had let my feelings of betrayal be known, but Marie had brushed them aside and pointed out that as long as I was going out with Kate, then Jenny, as Kate's best friend, was going to be around, so why shouldn't she be friends with her?

  She ignored all of my very well-thought-out reasons why.

  Kate paused for a few seconds before adding, “I'd like to go with you. It might be fun.”

  That snapped me out of my stupor. “Oh. That's interesting. I didn't know you wanted to go.” The way her face fell after I said that had me hurriedly trying to fix the mistake I had made. “But that's okay! Just because we haven’t talked about it before doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it now. We can go to prom. You’re right, it could be fun.” I smiled, trying to show some enthusiasm. I didn’t think I was very successful, because she didn’t look any happier.

  “No, I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to,” Kate said. “I should have mentioned it earlier. But we only started dating, so I didn’t want to ask you too early, but it’s gotten closer to prom, and if we’re going to go, we would have to make plans, like getting dresses or whatever formal wear you’d want to wear, or if we wanted to do anything before or after, so I thought I should ask, so I did,” she ended with a shrug.

  “Hey, you aren’t making me do anything I don’t want to,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice as I moved forward to envelop her in my arms. I was being a jerk, and she was getting upset, and I really had to fix this. Like now.

  She was stiff at first, but then I felt her relax against me, and I relaxed as well. I had not realized how nervous I was at the possibility of Kate being mad or, most likely, disappointed with me. I wanted to be the person in her life who made her happy, not the person who let her down. I guess this was what being in a relationship was about: thinking of the other person first and compromising if it would make her happy.

  Because going to prom would definitely be a compromise. I honestly had little desire to get dressed up in a constricting, usually itchy dress and try to dance in a way that did not look like I was having a seizure. All done in front of gossiping classmates, though with graduation right around the corner, I thankfully would not have to deal with high school pettiness for much longer.

  As if she had been reading my mind, Kate said against my shoulder, “Are you nervous about being with me in front of people?” She moved back to look me in the eye. “Because I’ve noticed that you won’t hold my hand or give me a hug if there are other people around.”

  I looked back at her beautiful face and decided right there that I would take a page out of Marie’s book and never lie to the girl in front of me. “I’m not very comfortable with public displays of affection,” I admitted. “I’m not sure how to explain what I feel when we’re together and there’s a possibility of someone seeing us being more than just friends. Even that’s a little weird. We were never really friends.” She furrowed her eybrows at me, and I continued trying to explain to Kat
e what I was having trouble understanding myself. “I don’t like when people notice me. My sister calls me boring, like it’s a bad thing, but I don’t see it that way. The attention of others makes me nervous, so I try not to do or say anything that would make me stand out. There have been flaws to this approach,” I conceded, thinking specifically of my accidental public self-outing in particular.

  Kate was patiently looking at me, letting me talk. I wished she would interrupt me so I wouldn’t have to continue, but she stayed silent. “I’m nervous about what other people would say if they saw us together or if they knew we were going out. Not in an ashamed way,” I hastened to add, not wanting her to think I was insulting her.

  Kate frowned. “It sounds like you still aren’t comfortable with being out,” she said. She paused, refusing to look at me, but instead concentrating on my bedroom carpet. “So maybe we’re moving too fast.” She began nodding like she was talking herself into something. She finally looked up at me. “I think you need some space to get comfortable with yourself first before you can be comfortable with someone else. You shouldn’t feel nervous when you’re around me. I’m happy when I’m with you, and I don’t want to hide that feeling, my feelings. So it’s probably best that we take a time out or a break or something like that from each other. We can take that time to figure things out.” Her forced certainty had my heart pounding in panic.

  I was losing her just as I was realizing how much I had with her. “No, we don’t have to do that,” I tried to persuade her in desperation, but she was already moving, grabbing her things from around my room and making her way to the bedroom door. “This is just a stupid hang-up I have that I’ll get over soon enough. I’m being an idiot. There’s no reason for you to leave,” I said, but it was like she didn’t hear me. Maybe she hadn’t. She was so focused on leaving, I could have just been background noise.

  I followed Kate down the stairs, not wanting to continue our conversation in front of any of my family members who might be within hearing range, but knowing that I had to try to convince her not to leave. Not with how things stood.

  I had gone from being scared to utter any words in her presence to wanting desperately to sit her down and talk for hours so she knew how much I liked her, and how I wanted to be more self-confident and not give a fuck about what others might say about me or us. But we had gone from cuddling to breaking up so fast that I was afraid I would never get that chance.

  When she opened the front door, my stomach dropped. Was this it? Was I only going to have two weeks with the girl of my dreams before I messed it all up?

  “Kate,” I said in a broken voice that made her turn around. I cringed when I saw the wetness in her eyes. “Please, let’s talk about this. It’s not fair, I was trying to be honest. I didn’t think you’d go away; I wanted to be truthful with you.” The words tumbled out, and I wasn’t really sure what I was saying. I was making a total mess of everything.

  Kate sent me a fleeting smile that was a poor imitation of her usual one. “Haley, we both have a lot to think about. I’ll talk to you in a few days. There’s too much going on right now. I’ve got to process what you’ve told me, and I need some space to do that. Please give me that,” she pleaded.

  She must have taken my drooping shoulders for acquiescence, because she drove away in her car without another word or backward glance. I felt like I was going to throw up.

  “You messed up, didn’t you?” I heard from behind me. It was my sister. All I could do in response was shut my eyes and crouch down until I was sitting on the floor, no longer having the strength to hold myself upright.

  Yeah, I messed up big time.

  Chapter 14

  I must have picked up my phone over a hundred times with the intention of texting or calling Kate, but each time I remembered her asking for space and did nothing. I was not sure that was the right course of action; wouldn’t it be more meaningful if I fought for her, made her talk to me so we could fix things? But it seemed creepy to badger her into talking to me when she had very explicitly asked me not to, so I kept away. Even though it was making me a nervous wreck.

  Making matters worse, my sister did not keep quiet about what she had witnessed, and went straight to my parents to tell them that Kate and I had broken up and that it was my fault. I took exception to the breaking up part, mostly because I wasn’t sure if we had actually been a couple (How many dates did it take until two people were in a relationship? Was Kate my girlfriend? Had I lost my girlfriend before I’d realized I even had one?).

  My parents were understandably worried and tried to get me to talk about what had happened, but I stone-walled them until they backed off. I wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened between me and Kate, mostly because I was still trying to figure it out myself.

  When I replayed our last conversation in my head, I replaced different parts with other things I could have said at the time. I could have immediately agreed to go to prom with Kate, keeping my misgivings to myself. I could have encouraged her to go with Jenny’s group, explaining that prom wasn’t something I was interested in but insisting she go and enjoy herself. I could have taken a few more seconds to figure out my thoughts instead of spilling out the half-formed ideas I had stupidly shared with her. My reflections weren’t helping, though, instead highlighting all my mistakes and making me feel worse about my actions.

  I couldn’t bring myself to tell Marie what had happened with Kate, but she found out anyway. Not all of it, but enough to be worried about me. I wasn’t sure who had told her, if someone in my family had let her know or if it had been Jenny. However it had occurred, Marie called a few hours after Kate had left my house and tried to give me advice, which I did not appreciate.

  “You have to go over to her house and talk to her. That’s the only way you two are going to get past this,” Marie said over the phone.

  I sighed. “And how am I going to do that?” I asked with no enthusiasm. As if I hadn’t been thinking about how I could fix things with Kate for hours now.

  “Go up to her and say, ‘Kate, of course I want to take you to prom. Let me make all your prom fantasies come true,’ and then take her to a hotel and do what you have to do,” Marie said matter-of-factly.

  I hung up on her without a second thought.

  So Marie was no help. Surprisingly, her little brother called me a few minutes later. He must have been listening in on our conversation, because he kept the phone call short and sweet.

  “I’m sorry that you’re having trouble with your girlfriend.”

  I didn’t bother correcting him that Kate was not my girlfriend.

  “But I wanted to tell you that I’ll always love you. Okay, I have to go work on my reading. Bye, Haley.”

  That short show of affection made me feel better, even if just for a few minutes. That kid was something special.

  The worst was the next day at school. I had been trying to get a glimpse of Kate in class, but she must have been avoiding me. She got out of first period history early by giving the teacher some sort of note just as class began. I was excited to see her, and hopeful that I could talk to her or give her a note or even just a smile, but she was gone before I had the chance. The short glance I got of her wasn’t very encouraging. Her hair was in a low ponytail, and she just seemed…sad. And I was the one who had caused it.

  After third period, while I was at my locker, going through the motions like it was a regular school day and not as if my world was crumbling, I got a text message from an unknown number. It wasn’t too hard to figure out who it was from.

  Unknown number: stop fucking things up with my best friend. i warned her you were a waste and now you’re a jerk on top of it. fix it or end it.

  After saving the number as “Enemy number 1,” I sent my own text to Marie.

  Me: stop giving out my number to people who hate me

  Just a few seconds later, I got a response.

  Princess Bananahammock: she said she wasn’t going to be mean. w
as she mean?

  Before I could respond with the perfectly snarky reply I had ready, a voice from behind me had me turning around. My momentary hope that it was Kate was dashed when I saw Marie standing there. My disappointment must have showed on my face.

  “Sorry,” she said apologetically. “No luck, huh?” she asked. I just shook my head. She pulled me into a hug, and I let my chin fall to her shoulder. I had never felt lower than I did standing in the middle of the school hallway getting a pity hug from my best friend.

  That was yesterday. Today was turning out to be just as horrible. I’d overslept, so Eddy had to wake me up so we wouldn’t be late to school. I barely had enough time to get dressed and ready before my sister was dragging me out the door to the car. Throughout the entire ride to school, she complained about how late we were and how she was going to miss her presentation for first period and how I was sabotaging her scholastic achievements. I tried my best to tune her out, but only succeeded in focusing my thoughts on Kate, wondering if I would see her today. It had taken a supreme effort not to call her last night, but I’d stuck to what I believed was right and had given Kate the space she’d asked for.

  When we finally got to school, I was so relieved to finally be free of the sisterly nagging that I jumped out of the car as soon as I parked. Right when I had cleared the back end of my car, my sister called out to me.

  “What?” I snarled, not in the mood for any more of her criticisms. “Did I not park fast enough fast for you? Are we too far from the door? Do you want me to carry you on my back?” I said, each word increasingly louder until I was screaming at her. I was having a mini meltdown, but I didn’t care who saw.

  Eddy stood in front of me with a patronizing look on her face. I wanted to smack it right off. Instead she said, “You’ll thank me for this one day,” and pushed me.

 

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