Know Your Enemy

Grinning as widely as I could to accentuate the peppy aspect of my being a cheerleader, I hopped up and down, waving one of my pom-poms around, the other pressed against my waist. The girls around me acted in a similar way, screaming and cheering their little hearts out.

It was hard to explain, the perfect contentment I felt while I stood on the field. Few people could understand the complete ecstasy that flooded through my veins when I was jumping up and down, cheering for the sport I loved most in the entire world. Many people, like Lana, thought I was a cheerleader because I was shallow, self-obsessed, and consumed with worries about my image, and cheerleading was what those types of girls did. But in reality, there were so few things that brought me incredible joy other than absorbing the energy from the boisterous crowd around me and the butterflies of nervousness and excitement that took flight in my stomach at kickoff and didn’t leave until the final play ended.

Liam completed another perfect pass, so the girls and I broke out into another loud, audience-rousing cheer. When we finished, I peeled a strand of hair off my slightly sticky face and looked toward the bleachers as the players on the field finished up their huddle.

Much to my approval, I found Harlow and Louis sitting side-by-side, their eyes intense as they watched the game. Louis said something, his thin lips moving rapidly for a few seconds, and Harlow laughed.

Once her concentration was broken, she caught my gaze and waved with a huge grin. As I gave her a small wave of my pom-pom in response, she said something to Louis, and he turned away, almost like he was trying to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with me.

Although I’d rarely talked to Louis throughout my high school years, it was starting to become pretty obvious that I’d done something to ruffle his feathers. The only real contact I’d had with him was when we were lab partners in seventh grade, and he’d taken over dissecting the worm because I felt nauseated and the very infrequent times we’d said words in passing when he worked with Liam on a school project.

It crossed my mind to ask Harlow what he had against me and if they were going steady when I felt a sharp, bony elbow stab into my side. “Clara! Liam’s trying to get your attention!” Hailey hissed under her breath so the other girls couldn’t hear.

I snapped out of my trance and returned Liam’s gesture, a sweet kind of side-smile, but instead of running back onto the field, Liam took it as an invitation to approach me.

“Hey, Clara," he greeted optimistically as the paper shakers around me burst into whispered gossip. “Do you think you’d want to go to the drive-in with me tonight after the game?”

My mind fell into the “date” place, wondering if he was trying to take our friendship to the next step. Because, even though I loved Liam and thought he was really sweet, I didn’t feel for him that way. And, frankly, I’d thought he felt the same way.

As if he read my thoughts, he continued, “A whole group of us is going. You can bring Hailey if you want. It’ll be fun.”

I grinned and put my hands together, rubbing the poms together, copying what the other girls had started to do as the players started filing back onto the field. “Sounds good. I’ll see you after I shower?”

He nodded and gave me one last smile before heading over to the bench and sitting down, letting the defense do their thing.

Hailey squealed next to me. “Ugh, just imagine how perfect you going out with him would be! You guys would be the perfect southern high school couple. I can’t wait to see his jacket around your shoulders.”

Instead of answering, I just rolled my eyes to myself and turned back to the field, where the other team was still running plays. The other paper shakers were across the field, going crazy as their running back raced down the field toward the end zone for the touchdown.

I gnawed on my lip, paralyzed with anticipation. Part of me wanted to race onto the field and tackle him myself, but I knew that would do nothing but disturb the game and cause a ruckus. And in the end, the other school scored, and the cheerleaders burst into hysterical screeches.

In the end, Liam was able to complete a pass from twenty yards away, and we pulled ahead in the last minute. Our win was a narrow one, but it just made the whole situation all the more exhilarating.

“Hey, Clara!” I heard Harlow’s voice call from behind me. I turned, still beaming with the brilliant ending of the game, to see Harlow jogging toward me, Louis lagging a few steps behind, calling her name one last time. “We’re going to head to a party we heard about. Did you want to come?”

My heart started to patter in my chest at the prospect. Parties weren’t something I went to. They were too risky, too low-class. Cheerleaders wouldn’t be caught dead there.

Harlow seemed to sense my hesitation because she grabbed my arm and started to beg. “Come on, Clara. How many times have you lived a little? Just…totally forgotten about your image and let yourself be?”

Never. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to take that step yet. But then I looked over at Louis, who had finally decided my face wasn’t too offensive to look at for a couple seconds. In the split second that our eyes met, I saw a little twinkle in his eye that said he had some kind of desire for me to go to the party, too.

“We’re meeting Harry there, too, if that helps change your mind.”

If anything, that made me more hesitant. Harry always hung out with the kids from the other side of town, and if Harry was going to be there, it was entirely possible that other people I didn’t associate with would be there.

But maybe Harlow was right. Maybe I should try, just for one night, to let myself be. To forget about Clara, the rich, popular cheerleader, and go have a little fun. Not that my normal life wasn’t fun, but it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.

“Sure,” I agreed finally. “Just let me tell Liam that I can’t go to the drive-in with him and take a fast shower in the locker room. I’ll meet you guys out in the parking lot.”

As I hurried away to chat with the quarterback, I could hear Louis and Harlow whispering back and forth at each other, sounding like they were arguing. I hoped that I hadn’t misread Louis’ expression in his face and walked into an uncomfortable situation where I wasn’t wanted.