Tear your eyes away, Chaerin . Damn it, just tear your eyes away!

 

I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I figured I was stuck spending every English class this way for the rest of the year.

 

It was something about her that made me always want to stare. Her petite frame, her flowing brown hair, her piercing brown eyes -- she was beautiful. Beautiful, yet so out of reach.

 

When I first walked into her homeroom, I was awestruck. When I walked into her study hall, I considered myself lucky. When I realized I was in her English class, it seemed too good to be true. When she got assigned to be the cheering coach? That was just too much. And she had made me captain. She saw something in me, and that made me ecstatic. To me, she was like a celebrity. I'd been positive I wouldn't even get a spot because she'd had to fix my high V's. And when she did it - oh God, the way she came up behind me and took my arms - I thought I was going to fall to the floor. Miss Park was definitely the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I couldn't wait to get to know her better.

 

_____

 

That day at practice, we went straight into stunting. I was impressed that she let us stunt so early on, but I wasn't afraid of the challenge.

 

"I don't know who I'm going to have fly yet," she was saying. "It's not all about body type. The shortest, thinnest girls don't always make the best flyers."

 

That was definitely true, and I was impressed that she realized that. I'd been a flyer all my life, and while I was skinny, I definitely wasn't short. I was about 5'4'', and I had been since the ninth grade.

 

"So who's usually a flyer?" she asked, and I raised my hand. To my relief, she didn't make a face because of my stature.

 

"Great," she said. "Chaerin , come here."

 

I wanted to pass out when she said my name. "Give me two bases, around the same height, and a backspot."

 

The other girls worked it out among themselves, and a few of my friends stepped forward.

 

"Okay, you sit this out while I demonstrate," she said to the backspot, "And then I'll have you jump in." The girl nodded.

 

She put the bases in position and told them what to do. "Now I'm going to count two, lift, and you support," she coached, and we nodded.

 

"One, two," she called, and that's when I felt her hands on my waist. Determined to be professional, I went through with the stunt, but felt electricity the whole time. Her tight grasp on me made me shiver, and I was close to falling out of it on my own, but one of the girls had a bad grasp on my foot and I fell backwards, into her arms. She caught me effortlessly, one arm behind my back, one under my knees, and to both my surprise and my relief, laughed.

 

"Oh my God," I quickly said. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

 

She put me down, gently. "Don't be. I'm fine. You're light," she said.

 

Had she just complimented me? Well, it didn't matter.