The athletic department only funded a J.V. and Varsity cheer team.
In fact, they cut the budget for J.V. cheer, so we couldn't attend away games until one of the other cheerleader's parents, who worked for the district, volunteered to drive a few girls separately so we could fit on the bus.
The thing was... there was a Freshman basketball team.
And, their parents were furious that there wasn't a Freshman Cheer Team available to cheer on their boys.
To appease these parents, our Coach asked for J.V. and Varsity to volunteer to cheer for their games. Which very few, if any, did.
Because it was exhausting to cheer for one game, let alone two.
And it wasn't like the boys played for two teams back-to-back.
One evening, our coach was running late. She told us to sit and wait for her to get there, or if we wanted, we could voluntarily cheer for the Freshman game but not do lifts.
Eventually, I wandered up the stands and across the balcony toward the concession stand.
Two women waved me over.
"Why aren't you cheering?" They asked.
"Our coach isn't here, and we're not supposed to when she's not." I answered.
One of them rolled their eyes.
"Fine. What about all the other times you don't cheer?"
I just stared for a minute before blurting out, "Because we don't want to."
My teammates were furious.
Those were the moms of two of the most popular boys in our grade, and even though I'd told the truth, in doing so I'd disrespected them.
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
