Through The Cheerleader's Eyes

A Very Hair-y Day

Dedicated to Any_zombiesrule

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'Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!'

As soon as that magical word, 'Ten' reached my ears, I dropped down like a dead weight to the ground.

Oh, yeah. I was dead all right.

Or atleast, I sure felt like it, until that magical word (may it be showered with a thousand blessings) put an end to all my agonies - in this case, the ten one-hand pushups that were an  extreme necessity for cheerleader training. I'd decided. 'Ten' was henceforth my favourite word.

'Come on, Steph,' Cara called out. 'Now its time for twenty pushups.'

Looks like my favourite word was going to change soon.

I glared at her. She glared back with a very stern face. When I finally realised that I couldn't intimidate her, I turned my head towards Gretchen to try the same on her. It didn't work. She had that exact same look.

Damn. I swear, both of them seem like that teacher who thinks hers is the only subject to be studied and gives her poor students all the homework in the world. A picture pops into my mind. One of my nerdy self. Me at my study table, groaning to myself about the heaps of homework given daily and cursing the teacher responsible. It all seems so far away now.

Hey. Sure, I was a nerd and got good grades but then, I was a teen after all. I hated homework too. HATED IT TO HELL AND BACK.

And now, I was inflicting almost a similar torture on myself, doing all sorts of deadly exercises with two pseudo-teachers glaring at me. History has a knack of repeating itself. I can't help but smile at the thought.

Read : Smile like a lovesick fool at the thought.

'Do you think she's finally lost it?'

'Yeah. Sure looks like it. Maybe, we've overworked her?'

I lift my head to look at the incarnates of the devil himself. Cara and Gretchen were working hard to supress their laughter, regarding my current self in mock concern. First, they make me exercise till I drop. Next, they mock me when I feel like having my moment in the sun?

I almost make my mind to get up and let them have it, when my current situation comes to mind.

Picture this : I am sprawled out like a disgruntled eagle on the floor, panting and sweating like a walrus, murmuring to myself like a madman and smiling like a lovesick fool.

Well, maybe I can't blame them after all. I must look truely insane.

To cap it all, my facial muscles were defying me. They had contorted my face to have a weird sort of smile. That sort when I had seen Rick for the first time.

Wait. Which heaven did HE drop from? And now, of all times?

'Hey girl, are you going to do the pushups or not?' Gretchen cocked an eyebrow.

'Yeah. If you want to become a cheerleader, that is,' Cara said.

Woah. Keeping my exhaustion aside, I knew she was right. That girl surely knew how to push my buttons. Both she and Gretchen knew how much being a cheerleader meant to me. Damn them.

Cara. Gretchen. Rick. These exercises. The person who invented them. My involuntary facial muscles. Damn them all.

I start doing the push-ups, ignoring the muscles in my limbs, screaming in protest. As Cara starts counting again, I wish my new favourite word, 'Twenty', would arrive soon as I continue muttering obscenities under my breath.