The Cheer Leader

by Jill McCorkle

  For the rest of the summer, Red and I were inseparable. I still went to the lake with Tricia, Lisa and Cindy, but as soon as Red got there, we would swim out to the tower to sun so that we could be alone, or we’d just go up and sit in his car, maybe ride to Hardees or to the other side of the lake where there was a thick wooded area with lots of dirt roads. A few times, I even walked down to the shady end of the lake with Red. I didn’t want to and everyone was shocked that I did but I felt that I owed it to Red; after all, he had gone to parties with me at Tricia’s or at Lisa’s, not to mention the fact that he was very tolerant of the teasing that they had suddenly begun to dish out. “Had any good pot lately?” Lisa would ask in a very matter of fact way, and I couldn’t tell if she was trying to irk me or make Red feel funny or both. Even Cindy had begun to make comments here and there like about how Red always stared at girls’ breasts when he was talking to them, or how the pupils of his eyes looked funny sometimes.

  “Even I break a date every now and then so that I can spend time with my friends,” Lisa said on the way to the lake one day. “No guy is that important.”

  “If a guy really likes you, then he understands that you want to be with your girlfriends once in awhile,” Tricia added. They were ganging up on me and I looked at Cindy to see what she was going to say. After all, she was my oldest and closest friend. She just looked away.

  “But what about the pact?” I asked. “The pact where you can break a date with the girls at any time if there’s a guy involved.”

  “Break one,” Lisa said. “To do that, you at least have to make one.”

  “I thought Y’all would understand,” I said and I felt for a minute like I was going to cry. I had never been ganged up on before, ever. “I’ve always understood when Y’all were dating someone. I didn’t think you thought any less of me.”

  “Who’s had a date lately?” Tricia asked. “I’ve given up on Tom Fulton, no thanks to you, of course.”

  “I told you, Red doesn’t even really know Tom.”

  “Yeah, well you didn’t even look out for me that night you went to the party.” Tricia was staring straight ahead, gripping the wheel. “I would have tried to help you out.”

  “We did help her out,” Lisa continued. “What about all of those days that we circled K-Mart? What about the past few weeks when you’ve wanted to ride by and put a note on his car or something?” She stared at me and I could no longer keep the tears back. Cindy had gotten very quiet and was staring out the window. I suddenly realized that they had probably been talking about me, making fun of me for weeks.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea that Y’all felt this way.” Part of me kept thinking that they were jealous, that if they all had boyfriends, they wouldn’t be doing that to me. And yet, it also crossed my mind that if I had to choose between them and Red that I would choose Red; at least Red understood.

  “You won’t even go out with us the nights that you’re not out with Red,” Lisa said, her voice softening. “Hell, you’ve never been to Fat Mama’s!” She laughed and I could tell, now, that she was sorry that she had made me cry.

  “But I don’t like to drink.”

  “God, we’re not going to pour it down your throat.” Tricia was not ready to lighten up. “You could just go, but no, what do you do, sit home and wait for Red to call from God knows where.”

  “He’s usually tired after working.”

  “Yeah,” Tricia said and she glanced at Cindy and then at Lisa from the rearview mirror, like maybe she knew something.

  “Well, we can’t afford to go out every night,” I said. “And he can’t come over and sit at my house and watch T.V. all the time.” Those were Red’s exact words.

  “Well go to the movies with us tonight,” Cindy said. “It’s got Robert Redford and Paul Newman.”

  “The Sting?” I asked and Cindy nodded. “Red and I saw it the other night.”

  “It figures,” Tricia said but then finally, she began to let up. “We can see what else is on, though.”

  “No, The Sting is good,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

  “Then it’s a date!” Lisa said and by then we were at the lake. They weren’t mad at me anymore or at least weren’t saying those things to me, but I still could not get over what had happened and I could not help but feel a little uncomfortable, a little resentful. I didn’t see Red anywhere and I guess it was obvious that I kept looking for him.

  “Wonder where he is?” Lisa asked and I just shook my head as if I didn’t care. I didn’t fool them or myself.

  “Hey, I see Red,” Tricia said. “He’s down there in that car.”

  She pointed to the shady end where there were several cars parked. “I think it’s him, there, in the backseat of that blue one.” I followed her finger and it was him. I wanted to go down there right then but I waited a few minutes. Surely, he would see me. I waited and waited and not once did I feel like I had even caught his eye.

  “He must not see you,” Cindy finally said which obviously wasn’t true. It was an overcast day and there was no glare; we were just about the only people on any of the piers.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I better go tell him that I won’t be seeing him tonight.”

  “Why don’t you just wait until he . . .” Tricia caught herself and stopped.

  “Yeah, tell him we’re going to have a night on the town,” Lisa said and turned on her transistor radio. I could feel them watching me all the way down the pier and then down the shore. Red still had not noticed me and as I got closer, I could hear the music coming from the tape deck of the car. Beatrice and Mark Fuller were in the front seat and Red was in the backseat with Beatrice’s friend. I started to turn back before he saw me but then, I would have had to face Tricia, Lisa and Cindy with some explanation. I stopped about ten feet from the car and just waited. Finally, he looked and saw me.

  “Hey, where did you come from?” He got out of the car and walked towards me. Beatrice, her friend and Mark were all watching and I knew that my friends were watching from the other direction.

  “I’ve been here about an hour.”

  “Sorry, Jo, I had no idea that you would come on a day like today.” He was looking all around, everywhere except at me. “I was going to call you in a little while. Just been sitting around with some friends.”

  “Yeah,” I said and stepped closer. His eyes were all red and he kept drumming his fingers on his stomach in beat with the music. “I came to tell you that I’m going out with the girls tonight.”

  “No you didn’t.” He grabbed my hands. “You’re just mad, that’s all, because I’m a little stoned.”

  “No.” I shook my head and I could feel the tears brimming up again.

  “Hey, baby.” He lifted my chin and kissed me on the nose. “You know that I’d never do anything to upset you. Don’t you?” I nodded because I wanted to believe that; I wanted everything to be just fine. “Forgive me?” He pulled me closer and kissed me. “You know that I’m in love with you and there’s no one that I’d rather be with.” He stared and nodded his head up and down waiting for me to do the same. He had never actually said that he loved me before. I nodded. “Is there anyone that you’d rather be with? Maybe Pat Reeves or your big brother? Cindy? I know you’d rather be with Cindy, her face covered in zinc oxide?” He laughed and kissed me again. “Well?”

  “No,” I said, though I wasn’t quite sure, though I had this horrible urge to ask Red if there had ever been anything between him and Beatrice’s stringy haired friend. No, but that was ridiculous.

  “I know,” he said, “I’ll make it all up to you. Tonight. We’ll have a special night, just the two of us.” He was talking faster and faster. “You know, talk about us, really talk. You love me, too, don’t you?” I nodded again and he kept talking, about when he’d pick me up, about what a good time we were going to have, about how much he loved me and then I was alone, watching him get his shirt out of the backseat. None of the peopl
e in the car seemed to even see me standing there; they just kept talking to Red, asking him to come back once he walked me down the shore, asking him if he was going to a party that night.

  He lifted his hand to Tricia, Lisa and Cindy when we got back to the pier but he made no move to go any closer. I was relieved because I didn’t want them to see his eyes, to judge him on this one time. He kissed me and then turned to go. “See you around seven,” he yelled and then left.

  “What’s this?” Tricia asked when I sat back down on my towel.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but it’s very important that I see Red tonight.” I kept trying to pull this one thread out of my beach towel so that I wouldn’t have to look at them. “Red just told me that he loves me,” I said, thinking that that would somehow merit the pact about breaking dates.

  “Do you love him?” Cindy asked and I nodded. “That’s great, Jo.” I knew that she was trying to break the tension, just like she and I had always done when Tricia and Lisa were fighting. It wasn’t working.

  “Hey, maybe we can go to the movies tomorrow night,” I said and looked at Tricia. She just shrugged and got out her car keys.

  “I’m ready to go,” she said, “there’s no sun, anyway. I don’t even know why we came today.” She looked directly at me and shook her head. “Besides, why would you want to see a movie that you’ve already seen? I mean why would you ever do that?”

  That special night with Red was the night that I broke one of my rules, for instead of going out in Blue Springs to the movies which is what he had told my mother, we rode down to the lake and spent the time just sitting in his cabin, talking and kissing, lying side by side on his couch. I was worried that first time that my mother was going to find out, that I was going to get into trouble, that Tricia, Lisa and Cindy would never forgive me, but then it got easier, because I was with Red and because everything seemed so perfect. By the time that school started, I felt relatively little guilt about saying that I was going somewhere else and then going down to the lake with Red. It was that important to me, especially since I couldn’t see him on school nights and my Friday nights were taken up by cheerleading. Every now and then, Red would come to the games but usually not, and I didn’t blame him; he was too old to go to high school games; he would be glad when I was through with all of that and he had me all to himself. Tricia, Lisa and Cindy had just about stopped asking me to do anything with them because they knew that I would either be with Red or waiting for him to call; and yet, the four of us were really the only ones aware of the change. Around school, we were always lumped together; we sat together; we ate together; we were chosen for just about everything, dance committees, school representatives, and somewhere in all of that, my name had suddenly emerged at the top of the list and it was Jo, Tricia, Cindy and Lisa, maybe it was because I was chief cheerleader and then Tricia and Cindy were still cheering that it turned out that way, or maybe it was because I had never dated any of the guys in our class and had merely maintained friendships, unlike Tricia and Lisa who had made several enemies. Maybe it was just my turn, or more probably, maybe it was that I was not trying for any of it, that suddenly all of the things that I had wanted and looked forward to were not important in comparison with Red. It seemed that so many things were changing. Red even said that our relationship was changing, growing, and that we had to do something about it, that he had been so patient with me and so on, the ultimate crux of the conversation being that he wanted to make love.

  There were so many times that autumn that I wanted to go to Tricia and ask what she thought, to Lisa or Cindy, and even though I knew that they would be there for me, I also knew that they would say that Red was putting pressure on me, that if Red really loved me that he would understand, or worse, I was afraid that Lisa would look up with that certain know-it-all look of hers and say, “What’s the big deal?” And it was a big deal, especially when I gave in. But then, ultimately, it was no big deal at all except that I couldn’t take it all back: a dreary Sunday afternoon (I kept thinking “of all days”), an old couch with busted springs, the uncomfortable position, the discomfort of my body being perused, the patronizing “It’s okay” that Red breathed into me the whole time.

  “Is that it?” I asked when he had rolled off of me because I really didn’t know. How was I supposed to know? He kicked the couch and took me home, a long silent drive, at the end of which he promised, “It’ll get better for you; it takes experience.” I wanted to ask how he knew that, who he had been with that was experienced enough to enjoy it all, but I just got out of the car.

  I kept thinking about how Lisa had lied to me when she used to tell us how wonderful it was and I even started wondering if she had done anything; I even started wondering if there was something wrong with me. I kept thinking about all of those movies where the girl does it and then goes and stands in front of the mirror to see her new self, all transformed. The only change that had occurred was that then, that was all that Red wanted to do, help me to get the experience that I needed and I went along with him because I loved him, because I suddenly felt the same sense of commitment that I used to have for my friends, that I once had for Blue Springs High, that I felt when I rescued our dog, Jaspar, from his mother who wouldn’t feed him years ago. I could see the payoffs from those things; the closeness that I had had with my friends, the honors that all seemed to be falling my way in school, even Jaspar, because he was a good dog who did what I told him to do most of the time. I could only wonder when that was going to pay off; I imagined it would be when Red asked me to marry him.

  Yes, that was really the change, for instead of being up on all the new movies which I had been since I dated Pat Reeves for the first time, my free time went to gaining experience. I remember one time in particular or maybe it was many times rolled into one memory. It was just before Christmas. I was in Red’s room, his hands were going up and down on my back and the stereo was playing in the next room where Mark and Beatrice and two people that I didn’t know were smoking pot.

  We are in his room; the door is closed. I am in here because Red realizes that I am very uncomfortable around those people. Beatrice makes fun of my friends who I am no longer even certain are my friends. Red says that they are not my friends. Red says that my family is so odd, that I need to break away, that Bobby isn’t the perfect person that I think he is. But he loves me; I’m his. It doesn’t bother him that I’m a cheerleader because he used to do silly things like that when he was in high school. Red says, “It’s all right. You can’t help it. I still love you. You’ve got me. I may be all that you’ve got but you have me.” I can’t think of anything, not one good thought; I can only listen to the soft voice of Art Garfunkel singing “Disney Girls” and think how very much like that girl I am, or used to be, while I watch Red unbutton my shirt, while he tells me that he is all I’ve got, that it’s all right.

  “How many girls have you ever been with?” I feel like I have to know even though at this point, it really doesn’t matter.

  “I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to upset you. Besides, they didn’t mean anything. I didn’t love any of them.”

  I feel cold like I have never seen him before, like I don’t know him, don’t know anyone, shouldn’t have ever broken a rule. My clothes are on the floor and he is on top of me, always on top of things, breathing heavily. My mother’s face is etched clearly on my mind. She is wearing a strapless dress with a tulle ballerina length skirt and she is dancing a slow dance around and around to “Stardust,” to “Disney Girls.” She is in my place and were the roles reversed, she would not be in this place, not now. I close my eyes and concentrate on the music, wait for what I know is going to happen. The bed rocks rhythmically, like this blue captured wave that Red has on his shelf that goes back and forth, back and forth. There is a tightness in my stomach, my legs, my head.

  “Jo, Jo.” He is gasping my name in short little breaths and I watch his eyes
, somehow foreign and frightening like the eyes of a dead man, scrinching up, feel the sweat of his chest making me sticky. “I love you, Jo.”

  I stare back and I realize that I am crying and I don’t know why. He could have been saying “Abraham, Abraham” and I could look just like Richard Nixon and it wouldn’t matter. His heart and his brain and all the really important organs are concentrated between his legs and when it is all over and he has left a thick white puddle on my stomach, I realize that he has nothing more to say or think. It is all there, thick and bland, a future promise, and I wipe it away with an old paper towel that is on his windowsill. Out the window is the lake, the pier that cuts through it, the very place where we sat the night of our first date, in the summer. Summer seemed to be years ago.

  I liked being in school those last weeks before Christmas break, not the time before or after or in between classes but that time during the class, those fifty minutes when no one was talking except the teacher, fifty minutes of outlining history chapters, or working long trigonometry problems. I wasn’t very good in trig, not like Cindy, but I enjoyed doing neat work, taking it all one step at a time. I liked the hours spent reading Shakespeare. It was easy to be in class; it was easy because my grades were as good as they had ever been and sometimes I could even afford to not pay attention at all, to think of nothing, or to think of how it was going to be when Red did all of the things that he said he was going to do, go back to school, get a good job, marry me. I had already been elected Most Popular Senior Girl. Everything was easy in school and all I had to do was be very quiet and agree with whatever anyone said to me. All I had to do when Tricia, Lisa and Cindy found me crying in the school bathroom one day was to say, “Yes, I’m fine. I don’t feel very well. Everything’s okay.”