• DARA'S POV •

 

Being at the football game Friday night made me feel like I was back in high school. Freezing cold, hard bleachers, loud boys. Of course, back in high school I'd usually been in the opposite position - cheering with the team instead of watching them.

 

Bom had finally consented to come, and I made her sit in the front row with me. She was trying, without success, to make me stop being so nervous. But what if they didn't know their cheers? What if their motions weren't sharp, or their jumps weren't strong? Bent legs, flexed toes, ascended shoulders...there were too many things that could have gone wrong for me to be anything short of a wreck.

 

Of course, I knew that even if I hadn't done my job, the team at least had an amazing captain on their side. I commended my own choice, silently, as I watched Chaerin run through the list with the other girls, preparing themselves the way I'd told them to. Even if I was terrified, I was proud.

 

"They look good," Bom said, clearly only concerned with their hair and uniforms.

 

"Of course they do," I said. "They haven't started moving yet."

 

"Would you relax? They know what they're doing. I've seen these girls cheer before."

 

"Yeah," I said pessimistically. "So have I."

 

"Look at your girl," she said, obviously referring to Chaerin though there was no guarantee that she could even be considered my girl. "She looks good."

 

That, I had to agree with. "She looks phenomenal. Those skirts are a gift from God."

 

"You ," she denounced. "You're their teacher."

 

"I'm not looking at any of them," I defended honestly. "Except for one."

 

She shrugged. "Whatever, Babo."

 

That's when the game started. The girls were lined up, looking professional. I barely breathed until Chaerin called the first cheer. When finally she did, her voice sounded clear and gave me chills. I relaxed considerably when the whole team jumped into action and performed it seamlessly.

 

"Look at that, Dara !" Bom squealed. "They did good!"

 

I smiled, vainly proud of myself almost as much as of them. "Yeah," I admitted. "They did."

 

By the second quarter, our football team was losing miserably, but my team was doing great. It was frigid outside, and most of the fans were losing vigor, but for the ones who were still spirited, I gave the credit to my girls. Unfortunatel