The Story of Us

by AuthorStephanieHenry

“No way! Get out of here!” Ashley screams.

  “Awesome!” Julie smiles, but is definitely less enthusiastic. “We didn’t see you at try-outs, though.”

  “I got there early, so they let me go first. They told me I made it and told me when the first practice was. That was it. I didn’t see anyone, other than the three judges. Were there a lot of girls there?”

  “Ashley and I went together. When we got there, there were three other girls waiting, so we waited with them until it was our turn. By the time we went, there were two more girls who showed up. So only five others that we know of. And we’re not even sure if all of them made the squad.”

  “Well I guess we’ll find out how big of a squad it is in about an hour. I’m actually gonna go get ready now,” I tell them, heading into my dorm room to get my stuff together.

  “We can all walk over to the athletic building together!” Ashley yells in my direction.

  Hailey doesn’t end up walking over with us because she wants to go see Drew instead of watch the practice. So it’s just me and the bleach blonde twins. To be honest, they’re not as bad as I thought they’d be. They’re actually kind of nice.

  “So how long have you been cheering?” Ashley asks.

  “A few years. Hailey’s actually a cheerleader too. She’s got years over me, but she chose to take a break from it this year.”

  “That’s too bad. It would have been fun for all of us to be on the squad together,” Julie softens, seeming genuinely disappointed.

  “How about you guys? Have you cheered long?”

  Julie answers, “All of high school. It’s gonna be so weird trying to remember a different school name in the cheers, and to wear different school colors.”

  “Where are you guys from?”

  They tell me all about their hometown, only about two hours away, opposite direction of mine and Hailey’s though.

  When we reach the athletic building, there’s a bunch of girls on the lawn right out front stretching and warming up, so we jump in and quickly follow suit. It’s a nice morning, weather-wise, not too hot, but not chilly at all. A woman with short dark hair walks over, blowing a whistle, and we all freeze in place.

  “I’m Diane, your cheerleading coach. Before we get started, I want you all to know that this squad requires dedication and hard work. It’s not an option. You miss practice, you better have a good excuse. You miss three practices, regardless of a good excuse, you’re done. You need to come to practice in flexible clothes. Do not show up in jeans, or I will send you away and count it as an absence. Do not wear jewelry at all. Not to practices. Not to games. And certainly not to competitions. Minimal make-up. Hair is to always be worn up. Comfortable sneakers. White sneakers for games and practices, and bows are mandatory as well. No piercings. Everyone ready to get started?”

  I look around at all of the other girls here. There’s about twenty, give or take. And it seems like everyone has someone they already know on the squad. I wish Hailey would have cheered with me this year. It’s really gonna suck not having her here for all of this.

  “I said, is everyone ready to get started?” Diane shouts, clearly disappointed with everyone’s first reaction.

  Practice goes by quickly, but not without effort. We mainly go over all of the basics and then sit through a lecture of expectations. At the end, we do our conditioning and then we’re instructed to run around the building five times, after which we’re free to leave. I’m sweaty and gross, but I’m in desperate need of a coffee before heading back to the dorm to shower. My addiction is real. I don’t even care that Craig’s probably working. I drag my legs over to The Grind and wait in line impatiently. There are a lot more students here today than there were yesterday. When I make it up to the counter, I open my bag to pull out my student ID card, which also works as a pre-paid Visa, and I hear Craig’s voice before I look up to see him.

  “It’s taken care of,” he simply informs me, placing an already-made coffee in front of me before I even have the chance to order.

  “No thanks,” I respond bitterly, handing him my card.

  “Well, princess, as much as I’d like to take your card and tell this dude that you declined his offer to buy you coffee, I’m afraid you have no choice. It’s already paid for.”

  I stare blankly at him in confusion until he nods his head to the left, towards a guy standing on the other end of the long counter, smiling brightly at me.

  “Tyler?” I whisper to myself.

  Craig answers, “Already making friends, I see.”

  “I guess that makes two of us,” I bite back, grabbing my coffee from him.

  “Who, Tiffany? That wasn’t a friend, Princess. That was a hook-up. There’s a difference.”

  I scoff at him, as I walk away. Ugh! Why do I let him get to me? Why does he make me so mad? I push all thoughts of Craig out of my mind as I near Tyler. He looks so put together and neat. Handsome, really. Suddenly, I realize how messy I must look, and I hurry to smooth down the stray hairs escaping from my ponytail.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Tyler says, pointing to the coffee in my hands.

  “Not at all. That was really nice of you. Thanks. How did you know how I take my coffee?”

  “I didn’t. The guy working said he remembered from yesterday.”

  Of course Craig would know. “Oh. Well, thank you.” I smile politely at him.

  “You must be just coming back from practice, huh?”

  “Nooo. Don’t you know leggings and unruly hair is the new trend?” I joke.

  He laughs, “Well I think all the girls should start following this new trend, if it means they’ll look as good as you.”

  “Oh, please. I’m a mess! But my coffee addiction ultimately won out over self-consciousness, so here I am.”

  “Well I’m grateful for your coffee addiction then. Where are you headed now?”

  “Just back to the dorm. I need to shower.”

  “Can I walk you back?” he offers.

  “Sure.”

  We walk out of the coffee shop, but not before I see Craig staring me down. We’re not together and he was just hooking up with some girl last night, so why on Earth do I feel guilty right now? This is ridiculous. I need to push Craig out of my mind completely. Permanently. We’re nothing. We’ve never been anything. He’s Drew’s friend who flirts with me just to get a reaction. There will never be anything more to it than that. And I definitely don’t want a sleazy guy like Craig Morgan anyway.

  “So, first practice?” Tyler asks.

  “Yeah. Our coach seems tough too. Have you had football practice yet?”

  “Yeah. We’ve had a couple practices already. We have one this afternoon, if you wanna come watch.”

  “Do they allow that? I thought most football practices were private so no one could steal techniques or plays or anything.”

  “Nah. Coach doesn’t mind. He lets people sit in the stands and hang out while we’re on the field. He hasn’t made anyone leave yet.”

  “Oh, cool. What time today?”

  “Three. Maybe afterwards we could go grab a bite to eat or something?”

  “Oh. Um. I actually have to finish unpacking. And I think Hailey and I are just gonna lay low tonight since classes start tomorrow. But maybe another time?” It’s not entirely a lie, but I’m not being completely truthful with him either. He seems like a sweet guy and he’s really good-looking, but I just don’t think I’m ready to start dating in college yet. I don’t want to settle down with a guy before classes even start. And I barely know him. It’s just too soon.

  His smile falters and I can see the disappointment etched in his face. “Sure, another time,” he agrees, nodding.

  “Do you mind if I still come watch you practice for a bit?” I offer as a compromise, not wanting him to be upset with me.

  “Not at all. I hope you do.”

  When we enter the double doors and walk into the entryway to the dorm building, I turn to him. “Well, thanks again for the
coffee.” I hold the cup up a bit higher.

  “Not a problem. I just might have to hang out in that coffee shop more often now that I know about your self-proclaimed coffee addiction.”

  “I’ll welcome it, just as long as you keep the coffee hand-outs coming,” I joke.

  He laughs. “I’ll see you in the stands this afternoon?”

  “See you this afternoon,” I assure him.

  After showering and getting ready, Hailey, Drew and I head over to the cafeteria to grab some lunch and then I con them into going to watch Tyler’s practice with me. There’s not a lot of people at the field, so it’s easy to spot Craig Morgan right away. I’m not sure why he’s here, but he’s standing with a group of guys near the entrance. I’m secretly wishing we could walk right past him, but of course Drew stops to say hi. When he turns to greet Drew with one of those half-hug things that guys do, I can see that Craig is smoking a cigarette. We’re not close or anything, not even friends, but I’ve hung out with him over the summer a few times thanks to him and Drew being friends, and I’ve never seen him smoke. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say anything to me at all. And I certainly don’t engage him. We keep walking until we reach the bleachers and we sit to watch the football players practice. There’s only a few other people here, probably girlfriends and friends of the players, just like us. Although it’s September and still in the high 70s during the day, nights are becoming more and more chilly. About forty-five minutes into the practice, I’m practically shivering.

  “You guys wanna take off?” I ask Hailey and Drew.

  “Yeah. Will Tyler be upset you didn’t stay though?” Hailey asks.

  “I don’t care. I’m fr-freezing. Besides, I came. I saw. I’ll see him play again. Kind of inevitable, really.”

  She laughs. “Okay, let’s take off.”

  When we walk out the gate, Craig and the group of guys he was with are nowhere to be seen, which is just fine with me.

  Drew walks with us back to our dorm room and I say bye to him before entering our common room, knowing Hailey will want some private time to say bye herself.

  The twins, as I’ve come to refer to them, are in the common room watching a movie.

  “Valerie!” Ashley yells with enthusiasm.

  “Hey guys. What are you watching?” I ask with considerably less pep.

  Julie answers, “The Notebook.”

  “You’ve seen it, right?” Ash asks.

  “Of course. Like a million times,” I respond, walking to my room. I quickly change into pajamas and join the girls on the couch. When Hailey comes in, she does the same. It’s nice to have the girl time, to just relax and unwind at the end of the day. It feels like a big sleepover, with a couple of girls Hailey and I barely know, but a sleepover nonetheless. And sleepovers are always fun.

  Chapter 4

  I awake in the morning to a sound blaring in my ear. I try to ignore it, but it’s so annoyingly persistent. Then I hear Hailey yell, “Val! Shut that thing off! You’re gonna wake the whole building!”

  I reach over, trying to find my alarm clock. My hand feels for anything on the nightstand that could feel like a little piece of plastic with a big push button on the front. Nothing. I force myself to sit up and open my eyes to search for it. Once my eyes adjust, I realize it’s on the floor. I must have knocked it over, trying to shut it off in my sleep. I reach down and finally turn it off. Groggy with sleep, I gather my stuff and head for the showers. Before my first class, I head to The Grind to grab a coffee and I’m relieved to find that Craig isn’t working. Even with my coffee stop, I’m still a little early. I didn’t want to risk getting lost and looking like the typical freshman, ducking into class late and embarrassed. I walk into the building, which looks like the oldest of all the buildings on campus, and I walk up to the second floor. As soon as I walk into the classroom, I can smell it- School. No matter where you are, classrooms always have that distinct smell to them. I can’t pinpoint what it is exactly, probably because it’s not one particular thing. It’s a mix of smells, really, specific to schoolrooms, nonetheless. Paper, pencils, erasers, markers, carpet, desks – they all mix together to create that unique classroom smell.

  WSC isn’t a huge school, so it’s not set up auditorium-style like some college classrooms are. It’s not an entirely small school either, so it’s not packed with those chair/desk combinations used in some of the tinier classrooms. Rather, it has more of a conference room feel to the rooms. The desks are long tables which seat 3-4 rolling chairs to them and the tables are aligned in rows. I pick my seat in the third row, last table near the window. No one’s here yet, so I pull out my schedule while sitting in the empty classroom. Mondays & Wednesdays: World Civ 1, Psych 101, Public Speaking. Tuesdays & Thursdays: English Lit and Basic Algebra. Common courses, since I don’t know what I want to major in yet. It’s Monday, so I’m sitting in my World Civ 1 class, which I’m pretty sure will be pure torture. History is boring enough, never mind having it be my first class of the morning. People start to pour in and before long the professor arrives. He’s an older man, probably in his mid-60s. He’s tall and lean and has a head full of white hair. He passes out a semester long syllabi and reads every word on it, explaining in detail what the whole class will consist of, assignments we’ll be responsible for, how he’ll grade us, and when our exams will be. An hour and fifteen minutes later, he releases us and I’m off to the psych building. My psych classroom looks exactly the same as my history classroom, with the only difference being that it’s on the first floor. People start to file into the room immediately. I pick the same seat as I did in my history class – third row, last table near the window – and I’m surprised to see Ashley sit down next to me.

  “I didn’t know we had psych together!” she exclaims.

  “Yeah, I didn’t realize it either,” I say pleasantly surprised.

  The professor comes in before we can talk more. She’s a younger woman, probably only in her thirties. She’s heavy set, has dark blonde hair and eccentric clothing. I realize within the first ten minutes of class that she pretty much poses every sentence in the form of a question, asking ‘yeah?” afterwards. She’s also pretty funny though. If my history professor puts me to sleep, at least I know I’ll wake up in this class. She says she’s obsessed with reality T.V. and talks about her favorite shows for literally half the class before moving on to the syllabi. She lets us out ten minutes early, but I stay where I am because my public speaking class is in this same room.

  “This is gonna be my favorite class,” Ashley says, turning to me as she packs up her stuff. “I can already tell. I might even switch my major to psych. Okay, not really, but it’s a fun thought.”

  “What’s your major right now?” I realize I hadn’t yet asked.

  “I’m pre-law,” she states matter-of-factly, like it’s no big deal.

  My jaw hangs open. “What? Seriously?” I never would have guessed that from one of the twins.

  “Yeah, seriously. I come from a long line of lawyers,” she explains. “What’s your major?”

  “Undeclared right now,” I answer blandly, still stunned.

  “Well I gotta jet across campus. See ya later.”

  I smile as she walks out. It’s weird how some people aren’t exactly who they seem to be. She’s a bleach blonde petite cheerleader, who’s a one-hundred on the scale of peppiness… and she’s pre-law. I guess it’s true that you really can’t judge a book by its cover.

  I have, like, twenty minutes to kill before my next class starts and it’s in this same room. What to do? I take out my phone and shoot Hailey a text to make sure she’s up. Her first class is starting when my last one does. I know most college students want the later classes, but I like to get them done and over with so I can enjoy the rest of the day. Tomorrow Hailey and I are in the same classes together though. We planned it that way when we made our schedules. A day apart, a day together. We didn’t want to take all the same classes and end up seeing each other 24/7.
But at the same time, who doesn’t want to be in the same classes as their best friend? My phone buzzes back at the same time as someone covers my eyes.

  “What the hell?” I ask, half irritated, half surprised.

  “Guess,” I hear a deep, husky voice whisper in my ear, so close that his breath tickles my neck and sends shivers across my skin. I inhale the woodsy, earthy smell of his cologne and I have to admit that, for a brief moment, my irritation fades and I relax. This feels good – his closeness, my head cradled in his chest, his touch. Then I snap out of it.

  “Are you stalking me?” I accuse.

  Craig laughs as he releases my eyes.

  “No, seriously. You’re stalking me!”

  “This happens to be my next class.”

  I pause for a moment, letting that sink in.

  “Yepp.” He watches the realization hit me, “You have the pleasure of seeing me twice a week for the next few months, princess.” He gives me a sideways smirk that I’m all-too-familiar with.

  I roll my eyes and get back to my phone, opening Hailey’s response text.

  “I’m up. Julie gets ready with music blasting. I couldn’t sleep in if I tried. Thanx for the text though. See u later.”

  “Your new boyfriend?”

  I roll my eyes. “None of your business.”

  When I look up, I notice he’s sitting right beside me. Too close.

  “Are you staying there?” I ask, “Because if so, I’m moving my seat.”

  “Why do you hate me so much?” His voice is tight, but his features soft.

  “You annoy me. And don’t even try to act all innocent. You know you do it on purpose.”

  “Because I call you princess?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Okay, Valerie. I’ll try not to call you princess anymore. Is that a start? Truce?”

  I hesitate, trying to decipher what he’s really trying to do here.

  He takes my hesitation as a no. “See,” he says seriously, “It’s not that. I think you’re just determined to hate me no matter what.” And before I can respond, he grabs his books and walks up to the next row. He sits down without even looking back.