Through The Cheerleader's Eyes

All Kinds Of Voices

Let me offer a piece of advice.

After you have spent hours working out and basically stretching out your poor, aching limbs until you felt like a rubber band, you should NEVER come close to any human being before taking a shower first (especially when that particular human is the finest piece of man candy that you have ever laid your eyes upon).

I repeat, NEVER.

Because, contrary to all those popular beliefs that 'a person looks hot post-workout', I can assure you that the sweat that clings to your hair and skin most definitely DOES NOT.

And lets just say that hitting your man candy with your hair (with complementary beads of absolutely sweet-smelling perspiration) wouldn't be the ideal way to start a first conversation. After all, stuttering curses and frantic apologising can't make up for a very interesting start to a conversation, can they?

Wait, what was that? You don't think I can mess up awkwardly like a normal teen just because I'm a wannabe cheerleader?

Well then... SURPRISE! Cheerleaders do sweat and can act weird and awkward too! I know the idea can be really hard to grasp and comprehend for you but a small 'try' won't really hurt, yeah?

Just like you 'tried' (and succeeded) to make yourself look less guilty for your hair - swishing by apologising like a criminal, guilty for his crime?

What?!? You again? But regarding what you just said, uhh... Yeah. That too. Also, you should seriously stop popping out of nowhere. You're weird.

Well, what else did you expect? After all I'm your -

"Inner voice."

Wait, what? That voice didn't sound like my pessimistic inner self. In fact, it didn't sound like me at all.

It sounded deep, raspy and somehow...really smooth. Like satin. It had a kind of harsh melody to it, something I couldn't decipher. It was divine. PASSIONATE.

A seemingly chaotic mix of all the things that the Gods wanted to include in their divine drink, the 'Ambrosia', but couldn't. For, that chaotic yet crystal clear mixture seemed to have come and resided in that very voice. The voice that was had hit me like a hurricane and left me bedazzled.

I know that I sound real cheesy and, saying all sorts of sappy gooey things isn't really my forte. But I simply couldn't help it. That voice...that voice wasn't just beautiful. Oh no, not at all. It was like art. Like art, it didn't need to be beautiful. It just needed to make me feel something.

And it did. It damn right did.

My heart gave a sudden tug and started pounding loudly, so much, that I thought it would pierce my chest to seek that melody. I had a weird feeling in my stomach. I hoped that there were just butterflies down there, and that I didn't harbour something like constipation.

That would REALLY ruin the mood.

Honestly, I've never felt anything like this. Not even when I'd received my Stanford acceptance letter. So far, that had been the happiest moment of my life - receiving the letter and seeing my mom insanely happy like that. It was deeply gratifying.

But this was on a different level altogether.

Wait. Enough of this.

Let me try and stop thinking about him.

Nope. Not happening.

Wait, let me try again.

NO? Aarrrggghhh!