The Story of Her

1

     Do you remember going to the park as a kid? Not one of the park trips where your dad would push you a little too high on the swings or your brother would dare you to jump off of the tallest step. One of those park trips where your parents would force you to go hang out with random stranger kids. My brother, always the socialite, would quickly ditch me to go insert himself in a game of tag or challenge some other kid to a race. I, on the other hand, preferred to observe other people before I went to play with them, so I usually found myself on the swings laughing at a group of girls arguing over who's imaginary husband was the cutest. 

     This is pretty much how going to a new school worked for me too. Despite not knowing a soul at our new school, my brother, Malik,  had already eased himself into hanging out with the basketball team, and I had found a secluded table where I could scope out the cheerleaders from afar. Don't get me wrong, after the initial couple of days, I was just as social as my brother. I just preferred knowing who I was dealing with before I put myself into situations. This time though, I was going to be pulled out of my comfort zone a little faster than I usually liked to be. 

     Malik was one of the best basketball players and everyone knew it, so when we had to move from our private school to a public one, the coaches basically beat down our doors. Malik's reputation wasn't the only one that brought attention to us though.  When my basketball obsessed father found out that his daughter was having a baby brother, his first instinct was to put me in a little cheerleader outfit. My mother, of course, found this adorable and found a cheer gym for me to go to as soon as I was old enough to enroll in classes. I ended up falling in love with the sport and I got extremely good at it. So, when the basketball coaches came to dinner to talk to my brother, they brought the cheer coaches with them. Unfortunately for me, this meant that my days of solitude at school would be cut short as soon as practice started for either team. 

     "Hey, Melody."

     I whipped my head around, instantly recognizing my brother's voice. 

     "Some of the guys want to know if you're gonna come watch me practice." He chuckled as he slid in beside me. 

     "I have cheer today, you know that."

     "Damn, practice starts already?"

      "We cheer for the football team too, stupid. Besides, basketball practice starts now. Why shouldn't cheer?"

      "Because you never watch me practice anymore." He pouted.

      Malik and I had always been closer than most siblings. We were eleven months apart, so I don't really remember a time where he wasn't in my life. 

      "To be fair you never watch me practice either, Star."

     Malik just rolled his eyes at me, "I'll come to find you after practice."

* * * 

     It was about an hour and a half into cheer practice and I had already hit the mat four times. Either the team's bases didn't like me or they were just rusty from the summer. Regardless, it didn't feel good at all, and we still had another thirty minutes. It almost felt like Coach Preston's voice was on repeat, and the routine was starting to blend together in my head. I guess Coach's way of getting us to perfect routines was to make sure we could hear the counts in our dreams. She wasn't far from her goal though. 

     Suddenly the music stopped repeating, and Coach Preston's voice interrupted my mind's autopilot, "Ladies, say hello to your players. Coach Anderson's basketball team has decided to pay us a visit."

     Wiping the sweat from my face I looked up to see Malik grinning at me from the bleachers. I should have never mentioned anything about him not coming to watch me practice. 

     "Today we're going to practice how we play! Get the first half of this routine right in front of the basketball players, and we're all going home early. Mess up, and we'll run suicides for the last twenty minutes of practice." Coach Preston threatened. 

     I really should've never said anything about him coming to watch me practice. Nevertheless, the mention of suicides put a renewed energy into my team, and I raced to my starting position. If you've ever played any sport, you know the threat of running can magically make any team play, perform, or practice like the pros. Amazingly, we made it through the first half of the routine without any mistakes and made it through the full routine without a single flyer touching the ground. Like I said, those threats hold magical powers. 

     True to her word, Coach ended practice early, and I retreated to my water bottle as the rest of the cheerleaders raced for the showers. 

     "And you say I never come to watch you practice," Malik said as he waltzed up to me. 

     Too out of breath to respond, I just rolled my eyes and continued sipping on my water bottle. 

     "Do you still have enough energy to do double stunts with your little brother?" Malik pleaded. 

      "What do basketball players even do during their practices?" I questioned sarcastically, "Play ring-around-the-rosy?"

     Malik scoffed and grabbed my water bottle out of my hand, "Come do doubles with me."

     I finally relented and followed him to our spring floor. Malik had learned how to stunt one summer when he had made the mistake of telling me that cheer was easy. Now sometimes we play around together for fun or he'll help me practice. 

      I noticed the coaches watching us from the corner of the room after about fifteen minutes of us messing around. Coach Anderson was the first to speak though, "Miss Melody, are you as good at basketball as your brother is at cheer?"

      I quickly dismounted the stunt to answer him, "No sir," I chuckled, "I help him practice sometimes though."

      He just laughed and told us to have a good afternoon, leaving us with Coach Preston.

      "There's no chance I could get you to come base for me in your off-season could I?" She pressed at my brother.

     "No ma'am," he said with a slight smile, "Respectfully, I like not being kicked in the face."

     "You do have a point there," she laughed, "Get out of my gym kids, I'm ready to go home."

     I waved in response and jogged off to grab my bag.

     "Come on Star, we have to get home anyways."

     As we started the walk toward our grandmother's house, I began to think about all the things I needed to do when I walked in the door. Between satisfying mine and my brother's athletes appetites and making sure my grandmother got her medicine, and writing essays for my college classes, I wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.