There's something about flying that, to this day, brings me a sense of peace. It's what attracted me to cheerleading in the first place, back when I was wide-eyed and bushy- tailed and naive to the evils of the world. Despite the fact that I'm numb to most everything these days, flying still makes me feel something—what, exactly, I'm not entirely sure. But it's there.
Everything seems to move in slow motion when I'm soaring through the air, my chin tucked against my chest, my arms crossed over my torso, my legs hooked at the ankles as I spin once, twice, three times before I fall back to earth, landing in a heap of muscled arms and being cradled gently before returning to my feet.
Nothing else matters during those few seconds, not my past, not the present, especially not the future. For a few brief moments my mind is clear from the fog that normally weighs me down, and I feel at ease in my own skin—I feel like I can take on the world.
But as soon as my tennis shoes hit the mat I'm thrust back into reality. It becomes clear once more that I can't take on the world. The world has taken on me, and it's always winning despite my futile efforts.
It probably always will.
"Good practice today! Five laps and then head out!" Coach Bianca snaps, her overly-energetic voice shrill and booming.
Bianca has an extensive cheer history, and she'll tell anyone who will listen about her years spent as a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. She's still young, not much older than the majority of the squad, but she gets the job done. We're not the best of friends by any means, but we have a mutual understanding of one another. If I didn't know any better I'd say she's one of the only people in my life that knows I'm putting on an act—I can see it in her eyes when she looks at me, like she knows something others don't—but she leaves me be. As long as I'm out here busting my ass for her, which I always am, there's no need for her to intervene.
I finish my laps first and hurry to the corner of the gym to grab my stuff. I slip out of my cheer shoes and into a black pair of slides, slinging my duffle bag over my shoulder and trying my best to slip out into the parking lot unnoticed.
"Ryah, wait up!" Becky calls from behind me. I can hear her scurrying closer and closer, her sandals flopping against the freshly-waxed wooden floor.
With a groan I stop, plaster on my signature fake smile, and turn to face her.
"Hey, girl!" My voice shakes, threatening to expose my fraud, but I get a handle on it and straighten my shoulders. "What's up Becks?"
"Please tell me you're coming to the pow wow tonight." I can feel my face faulter and she throws her head back with a gruff. "Ryah, seriously?" She whines. "You haven't come the last three times. You're co-captain. You're supposed to be there!"
"I'm sorry, Becks," I faux-pout, shuffling towards the door. She falls into line beside me, dropping an expensive pair of designer sunglasses over her eyes when we exit the building. "I can't this time."
I could, but there are so many things I would rather do than spend an evening with a group of people I barely tolerate. It's not their fault, they're not bad people, they're just not my kind of people.
"Ryah," she drawls, stopping suddenly and placing her hand on my bare shoulder. I look down to where her skin is touching mine, then up to her face. Her head is tilted, her lips pursed, and God I could just punch that look off her face. But that would be breaking character. And I don't do that. "I'm not trying to be rude, honey, but as co-captain there are certain expectations, one being that you participate in squad activities. We all have lives outside of this team, but sometimes the team has to come first, ya know?"
She squeezes, as if trying to be reassuring, but she's not nearly as good of an actress as I am, and I can see right through her bullshit.
I widen my smile to the point it's almost painful, and step out from under her grip.
"I'll try to make the next one. Promise!" I knock my fingers over my heart for good measure. "I better get going. Toodles!"
Toodles. Sometimes I make myself sick.
