A 90's Friday Night Lights meets Fifty Shades, only the town is the sadomasochist and the two young lovers their pawns.
July Elizabeth Edwards is stuck in the existence her pretentious, rural East Texas town has allotted her. A shift in social statu...
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The varsity cheerleaders began to disperse to the side as a drum roll announced their last bit before our entrance.
"Okay, ducks, it's show time." My best friend looked back at me with a wink, her blonde curls rolled up to her shoulders. Her blue eyes dazzled under her white suede hat tied tightly under her chin and her red lipstick parted into a smile when I shot her the finger. The freshman girls on the line froze in fear as she, a captain of our drill team walked toward me, now expressionless, and no doubt mustering up quite a show for retaliation.
She stood directly behind me, pulled one of my dark brown curls like a child until she bent my ear toward her, and spoke firmly into it where the group could hear.
"These new uniforms are too short, they are far too tight, and yes, our asses are going to show. We look like a bunch of bitchy, hillbilly call-girl sluts in very nice "Annie Oakly" hats. The Lycra tops are going to ride up to our ribs the first time we raise our arms above our waists, and just standing here I can already see your left ass cheek where your trunks have ridden up. Now remember, you wanted to be a part of this, or rather your mother is making you.
"I'm a captain, and I chose these new uniforms for us, and you are my best friend... So are you."
Reagan grabbed a junior officer and fellow captain from the front row who was pretending not to know us. It was my other best friend Lynn Stokes, and the three of us were in what you would call a major uniform debacle. Our drill team Pep rally uniforms had not come in at the start of football season. They arrived that morning. Reagan had picked these out of some wayward dance catalog because they were a shiny, lighter royal blue color she thought would really make us stand out. She certainly called that one. They were going to get us banned from preforming at the pep rally if principal Sabella was there. When we put the spandex skirts on, we all realized the sides of the skirts dipped up to showcase the sides of the top of each of our thighs. That was just a bonus compared to the rest of the shit show. The good news was our monogramed names on our upper right chest just above our boob on most of us had, in fact, been spelled correctly. That's a win you seldom get.
"You two are going to strut out onto the middle of that gym floor with me with your hats held high, while these other little shits struggle to keep their dignity or duck for cover. We are going to kick higher than you've ever kicked, smile bigger, and when you land in your final jump split, you will forgive me, knowing this will not in fact be the most embarrassing moment of our junior year."
