Breaking Free from Everyday

Chapter 17: Redemption

Chapter 17: Redemption

Melanie

The next day was a Friday. It was a game day. I woke up with a sense of dread, deep in my core. I had to quit.

Today.

I got out of bed, and put on something more casual than I typically go for, I got home late last night because my mother decided we needed to confirm what Mrs. O had said, because "signs weren't enough".

Well they were in this case.

I pulled on ripped jeans and a simple dark gray v-neck T-shirt. I slipped my feet into my signature red converse sneakers, and was about to leave the room when I remembered something.

I walked to the corner of my room and pulled my cheer bag onto my bed. I unzipped the top and took out my cheer uniform, the one I had used for almost a full four football seasons, and three basketball seasons. This uniform had been my life. I lightly touched the embroidered Lions and touched the material of the skirt, remembering how many times one of the girls told me I should pull it just a little bit higher. I remembered the many occasions someone told me the bright red uniform clashed with my hair, and that I should "just dye it". I smiled.

What did I do this for anyway?

I then remembered my sophomore year, the first time I mastered my backflip. Now, I could do a back-handspring, into a backflip, into a split easily. I remembered my first ever football game, when I was 13, and had my hair tied with a sparkly white bow, and how Brandon Chambers told me I looked cute and invited me to get ice cream with him after the game. I was crushed when he switched schools when we went into high school. I remembered how my dad used to smile and wink at me from the sidelines, before he was away five out of seven days a week because he was working overtime as a pilot to provide for us.

I used to like cheerleading. I used to love it. It used to be my safe haven, and now it wasn't. Now, it was time to say goodbye.

At the doctor's last night, he told me that the way my head hit the tile, could have potentially paralyzed me or given me memory loss. If I severely hit my head again, that would most definitely happen. I knew better than to risk my life just because of my stupid pride, or because it was something I liked to do. I liked living a bit better.

I gently folded my uniform, pushed my cheer bag into the bag of my closet, and placed my uniform at the top of my backpack. I grabbed my fuzzy white northface jacket and hopped into the passenger seat of my mom's family van, since I lost the rights to my truck until I was cleared from concussion watch.

There is nothing worse than being a senior (ex)cheerleader being dropped off at the front of the school by her mom's van.

Well, okay, there are worse things.

On Fridays, typically we had practice before school, since they were game days and we wanted to make sure we had everything ready. I passed people in the hallways, not bothering to look at faces, as I made my way to the practice room.

I stopped in front of the doors, unsure. I started pacing, back and forth, holding my uniform in both hands, afraid to open the doors, unable to open the doors.

I took in a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over me, and pushed my hands on the handle before I lost the nerve.

MY ANACONDA DON'T-

MY ANANCONDA DON'T-

I walked into the room, hearing the blaring song and wanting to smash the speaker repeatedly against the wall, so I wouldn't have to listen to such nonsense again. The song was disgusting.

All the girls were shaking their hips and dancing, not even noticing that I was there.

Did they even know I was gone?

I watched the dance with distaste, at one point witnessing some girl named Tasha twerk in the background behind Whitney and Melissa, who were stunting in front of her.

What the actual hell? I was gone for a day and they're doing a totally different routine than what we had? How could that have even happened?

The song ended, with Becca and Grace being thrown in the air. This was good; trashy, but well practiced.

I heard my voice before I realized words had actually come out of my mouth. "What was that?"

I felt 15 pairs of eyes shoot straight in my direction, looking like deer in the headlights. Becca recovered first. "What are you doing here Melanie?"

"Well, I thought we had cheer practice. I would know since I am co-captain, right?" I couldn't contain the smirk of satisfaction when I noticed she still had a slight bruising still on her nose from the day I punched her. That was one of the greatest moments of my life.

Maybe.

Becca had the audacity to have signs of pity in her eyes. "Didn't anybody tell you?" Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lip was slightly pouted. I hated her.

"Tell me what?"

"You're kicked off the squad. Team vote. You were ruining our reputation," she shrugged and walked back to all the other girls.

I felt a hole in my body, like a bullet wound, small but festering. I didn't even have to quit. It wasn't my decision. I was kicked off. I should be happy, I wouldn't need to feel guilty for being gone. But I hated how little I felt, like with two words, I lost 2 feet in height, and 8 years of wisdom.

I was done.

I felt like giving up.

But I couldn't, I couldn't let Becca win. I couldn't let her get away with all the crap she put me through.

I wouldn't be stepped on.

"Hey, Becca, wait up!" I walk over to her and take her wrist, making her freeze in her tracks.

I smiled at her. "Thank you for keeping me on the team for so long. I know I was a bit of a burden, but thanks for the experience, and dealing with me anyway."

I dropped my uniform at her feet.

"This was a good run."

I turned around, so she wouldn't be able to see the sadistic smile growing on my lips. I was so terrible at hiding my emotions.

"I hope you enjoy the team you created. After all, robots are easier to deal with than people, right? You of all people should know. Don't you remember that little robotics kit you had that your mom pretended she "vacuumed" because you wouldn't leave the house without it? Those were good times. I remember how your glasses were always bent because you would be looking at car engines with your dad, and you had a knack for hitting your face into the car. Oh! This was the best! Remember that one time, when Frannie Springston brought in her pet tarantula in 3rd grade when we were learning about spiders, and it went missing and we found it inside your hair because you hadn't combed it that morning? It's hard to forget your best friend, right Becky?"

I smiled sweetly at her, knowing all the girls were listening intently, and probably going to spread it around school. Please do.

I did a little mocking wave, and about-faced, feeling eyes burning into the back of my head. It gave me more determination to keep going. I opened the door, and was about to leave but let one last comment leave my mouth.

"Bye Becks. I hope you drown in a puddle."

YEEESSS!!! I KNOW ITS SHORT AND HAS NO PARKER AND MELANIE LIKE I PROMISED, BUT I DECIDED ON BREAKING THE CHAPTER UP INTO TWO SMALLER ONES INSTEAD OF ONE LARGE ONE (PURELY FOR FLOW PURPOSES)

I WILL TRY TO UPDATE MORE TOMORROW!!! GO FOUR DAY WEEKENDS!! THANK YOU ROSH HASHANAH!

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE THAT IS READING THIS RIGHT NOW, AND HAS EVER VOTED, COMMENTED, LIKED, LAUGHED AT, MY WORKS, OR FANNED ME. YOU GIVE ME THE INSPIRATION TO KEEP GOING.

LOVE YOU ALL!! THANK YOU!!!

-Katie