A/N: HOLY CRAP I really suck! Guys I'm so sorry this took so long to post. I've been super busy lately, but no one wants to hear all of that hahahahah so I'll shut up.
I've come very close to finishing the story guys. (: I really hope you like the ending. I'm not really a fan of sequels, but I don't know. Sometimes I just don't wanna let these guys go hahaha. That makes me sound psycho but whatever, I'm attached to my own characters. \: Anyways, there's still more drama, so enjoy. (:
- Railene
Chelsea's POV
"Did you hear?" one of my friends from cheering, Jenna, asked as I slid into homeroom, late, Monday morning. I wasn't usually late; in fact, since Brooke had been my homeroom teacher, I was usually early; but I'd been behind that morning. And it didn't seem to matter, as Brooke was late, too. Even later than me.
"Hear what?" I asked, signifying that most likely, I hadn't.
"We're playing Sanfield on Friday," she filled me in.
Sanfield had a Division One football team, and their cheerleaders were professional. They competed every year, always made it to states, and sometimes made it to nationals. And the team always travelled for away games, no matter how far.
"Shit," I said as much to myself as to her. This was definitely a problem, as the team was nowhere near where it needed to be. I took some responsibility as captain for the state of the team, and placed none on Brooke. My feelings for her aside, Brooke had been the best coach the team had had in the three years I was on it. If we suffered, I owed it almost completely to the general apathy of people like Tiffany Medlock, who placed gossip and jealousy over her performance.
"I know," Jenna said. "If we don't get it together this week, we might as well not show up."
That was when Brooke entered, hair wind blown, and keys in her hand. The semblance of lateness; I knew it well.
"So you heard?" she said to us, referring to Jenna's last comment.
"Sanfield?" I speculated. "We're screwed."
"We can face them," she said confidently. "We just have to work. Hard."
"Really hard," I agreed.
"So pass that along," she said as she went through her stuff for an attendance sheet. "No absences, no lateness, no laziness. We need to get a new halftime routine down, with better stunts, and the jumps need a serious amount of work."
I smiled. I loved it when she took charge. "Let's go to work," I encouraged, suddenly excited by the challenge.
So all that week, work we did. We did strength training. We did new intense stunts. We worked on cheers, we even reworked our motions. All the while, Tiffany scowled, but complied. I began to think that maybe Brooke and I had gotten through to her, and she actually had decided to put her energy into cheering.
I knew I had. By Friday, cheering had about all the energy I possessed.
__________
Brooke's POV
That entire week, I don't think I knew the meaning of the word sleep. Practices were running until about 6:30, on average. I had grading to do, lesson plans to make. Even when I found time in which to sleep, sleep evaded me. I just had the feeling that Kate hadn't fully forgiven me for Saturday, and the guilt was keeping me up at night. That, and the permanently looming notion that I was completely at the will of an irrational sixteen year old girl, who could at any time have my job taken away, or have me carried off to court.
YOU ARE READING
My Dirty Little Secret
Teen FictionEnglish teacher Brooke Chandler can't help who she falls for. She can't help it that she always falls for players, she can't help it that she's fallen for a woman who simultaneously drives her crazy, and she certainly can't help it when she falls fo...