"You hafta try harder! This is pathetic! C'mon girls, SMILE!" barked the cheerleading captain a.k.a slave-driver, her own mouth plastered with the fakest smile ever. Against every fibre of muscle on my face and releasing my last ounce of dignity, I turned up the corners of my lips.
Why, I gritted my teeth as the captain stopped the music abruptly to start the routine all over again, Why did I
ever join this stupid thing. I glanced around the field - everyone within sight was staring at us, this bunch of girls in skimpy 'workout' clothes - 'we need to see exactly how our bodies look and move,' the girls explained *pPFfffTtt* - prancing around like a bunch of circus clowns. Even Ashley, my only sane friend in the squad, had succumbed to the pressure and bought those ridiculous hot pants they insisted on wearing for practice. I looked down at myself - reasonably fitted baby-t, jeans shorts that actually covered my butt - and felt a slight twinge of satisfaction. They can humiliate me in front of the entire school and contort my face, but they CANNOT make me wear skanky clothes.
Unfortunately, it was not enough to convince others. Cynical eyes followed our every move, and I could almost hear the conversations at leat 20 feet away from me - 'omigosh that girl canNOT dance!' 'what is that... that THING she's wearing?' 'they must think they look so pretty *rolls eyes*' 'wah so big ah her boobs' - somehow the image of me being stuck in a tiny fishbowl constantly plagued my mind.
I'M NOT LIKE THEM! I felt like yelling aloud, trying to divert the scrutinizing looks and pointing fingers away from me. "This is a total disaster..." I whispered miserably to myself, beating myself up for the millionth time over the very day I stepped into the auditions. Ashley looked over at me with a questioning look; I managed a weak grin.
"Ok girls! I want you to chant as loud as possible, you hear! ..." so she tried to pumped us up. Involuntarily, I reached down and rubbed my bruised right knee, remembering the long afternoon practices we had in the hall, where we repeated our routines over and over again, slamming our knees onto the hard concrete floor while maintaining a friggin' big smile like we're jumping on a spread of fluffy pillows.
Cheerleading was supposed to be fun, I lamented inside. When my friends and I had heard of the new squad, we were curious yet naively certain that it would be a delightfully new experience. Boy oh boy, it was something new all right; just as far from delightful as Ashlee Simpson is to a Grammy.
"CINDY! YOU'RE NOT CONCENTRATING ON THE ROUTINE!" the Satan-worshipper roared at me. Snapping back to reality, I realized they had started the routine while my mind wandered. Blushing hard, I silently cursed the captain. Why you... Just as I was about kneel on the muddy ground and have someone's equally muddy shoe imprinted onto my back, I caught a glimpse of my friends sitting by the corridor, talking and laughing -
while pointing at the cheerleaders. Oh the humiliation. The betrayal. The... the
agony, I grunted as the heel of a buffalo ground its way deep into my spinal cord.
Finally we got a 15 minute break. Ashley and I went off to the water fountain, leaving behind the embarrassin crowd of rowdy girls discussing about clothes and boyfriends on top of their grinding voices.
"So, how? I thought you said we're gonna quit," I chided Ashley as she took a drink.
She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, "Ya we should! We hafta tell the captain soon..."
"Who's gonna talk to her? You la, you closer to her what. She hates me," I said matter-of-factly. Frankly I took her dislike of me as a compliment. "But hor... we already put so much effort into this stupid thing... and the competition is coming up right..." I hesitated.
"Yalor, exactly... Aih dunno lar, maybe should just stick to the end..." she started fingering the bruise on her elbow mindlessly, deep in thought. "I mean, we worked so hard for so long..."
"That's just it! We suffered for so long d, somemore wanna continue? We hafta save ourselves!" I protested.
Took me a while to realize we were actually playing out the battle scene inside our heads.
I heard someone clapping noisily, a persistent and irritating sound - the captain was calling everybody back. Sighing audibly, Ashley and I dragged our bruised bodies back onto the field, our discussion unresolved.
TO BE CONTINUED (Got 2 tests tomorrow la, what you want me to do =P)
