A Year Being the Cheerleader

59.

My eyes scan my reflection of anything that is out of place. Of course, I am paler and there are bags under my eyes. But it somehow pleases me. Like my flaws are what makes this all real yet not overwhelming.

I'm alive!

This is one of those moments that I don't care whether I am fat or skinny, ugly or pretty. But this time I don't care because I am alive. It's still shocking how one simple thing can change who you are. Your life. Your entire being.

Today I am no longer the person in the shadows, but the person who has one trait that every wallflower wishes to have; bravery.

It's not everyday you wake up with a dream in my world. In my world, you never dream regardless of whether or not you are asleep or awake. That's just the way it is.

I twirl around in the bright yellow dress I am wearing, squealing a little which feels so not me. Before I can scold myself on such a thing, I hear the protesting sound of my door. It reminds me of the time when I banged my head on the door so hard, I knocked out. And that is the story of how that door makes a sound when it opens.

I quickly spin around to face the intruder, some maddening instinct causing me to think it's my mother. But to my utter relief it is my father, casting his gaze at me with a surprised manner.

"Ready for the trial so soon, Amber darling?" He asks and I shake my head, my hair swaying to the motion. "Okay then, if you say so. Are you alright though? I was knocking before and you didn't answer. Hope you don't mind me barging inside your room like this."

My Dad's eyes visibly roam my entire body, searching for a sign of injury and then looking around my room for a threat. Since it all had happened, he has been extra protective which is touching and annoying at the same time. I refrain from rolling my eyes at him. He is overworking his brain again. Sometimes I wonder if he remembers he already has hypertension.

"Dad," I say walking towards feeling a little uncomfortable with all the air space between my legs. Dresses were never my thing and it seems even becoming a teenager and soon college freshman hasn't changed that. "It's okay, I'm okay. There is no need for you to worry."

Even though I am tugging on his shirt sleeve, it takes him a solid minute before his eyes land on me. He then smiles and I know it is because he hasn't found anything threatening in my room. Never knew that he would become so overprotective. Men will always be men, no matter how different they perceive themselves to be. Some qualities never change I guess.

"Okay, just want to let you know breakfast is ready," he beams down at me as he pats the mop of blonde hair on my head. His smile then drops to that cautious look again. "And Nathan is here."

I don't know what's wrong with me, but something ignites inside of me at the mention of Nate. He is here. He's here! It also reminds me of a question I wanted to ask him.

"Dad, may Nathan come with us to court?" My father looks down at me with a frown, but I can see that took him off guard. The frown deepens and I can see he is contemplating his answer. "Please." I add in desperation.

"Why?" He inquires and I immediately smile.

"Because I wouldn't have been going if it wasn't for him," I tell my father. "I wouldn't have been able to make my valedictorian speech at graduation last week and I wouldn't have been able to enjoy that day as much as I did."

My father tilts his head before his lips turn up into a smile. "I guess that's what a best friend does."

And I grin, glad he doesn't assume anything but what is there. Finally someone understands the concept of a boy and girl being best friends.

"So is that a yes?" I ask, fisting his shirt a little too tightly, but not caring. I am even rocking on the ball of my feet right now. This anticipation is driving me crazy.

"Of course," he says and I release my hold on his shirt with a sigh of relief. "Now come down and eat something before you get any skinnier."

I nod. "I'll be down in a minute." I say practically shooing him out the door.

He chuckles. "I should have known you in a dress wasn't for real."

I close the door, pretending I didn't hear him. I mean, I am in a dress and I am real. But for how long. Just before I change, my stomach plummets. Today is the day I am going to testify against my mother. They aren't going to expect me to cry, are hey?

A/N: Almost finished this book. What do you all say? 'bout time, huh?

1999beauty
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