"I don't know if I can do this anymore," Chanmi groans, flat on her back in the middle of the grass. From above her, Yiyin grins and grasps at Chanmi's flailing arms, hauling the taller girl up with a surprising amount of strength for such a tiny body. Chanmi 'oof's as she lets herself be pulled up and nearly collides with Yiyin's chest.

They're both sweaty and sore, muscles protesting at the slightest movements and hair sticking to their foreheads as salty sweat drips into their eyes.

"Regionals are in two weeks," Yiyin reminds her, captain's determination gleaming in her gaze, and Chanmi relents to it like she always does. She's weak against Yiyin, and the other girl knows it.

"Fine," she huffs, dusting the grass off her and bare thighs, scratching absently at a bug bite on the back of her knee, "But if you make me do another triple roundoff back handspring, I'm quitting."

Yiyin just laughs, the .

--

The thing is, Chanmi doesn't mean to join the cheerleading team. Had never even considered it, in fact, before her adorable biology lab partner comes into class one day in a short skirt and white tennis shoes, the school logo emblazoned upon her chest.

"You're a cheerleader?" Chanmi asks, incredulity coloring her voice, and when Yiyin grins and replies, "Head cheerleader, in fact," Chanmi isn't quite sure what to say, for once.

See, when she thinks about it, it kind of makes sense. Yiyin is perky and fun, with the body of a dancer and a stubborn determination that could be dangerous but has led to many an A+ on their labs instead, simply because Yiyin refuses to give up.

So yeah, it makes sense. But when Yiyin looks at Chanmi over the top of the microscope and says, oh so casually, "You know, tryouts are tomorrow..." Chanmi immediately stops her.

"No."

Yiyin doesn’t even blink, just leans across the desk and looks at Chanmi with dark, questioning eyes.

“I think you’d be really good,” and Chanmi curses herself for the way her heart does a stutter stop pound in her chest. Her little crush on her lab partner has caused quite a few awkward moments for Chanmi but she is not letting herself be dragged into something like cheerleading for the sake of pleasing Yiyin.

“I’m not a cheerleader.”

“Why not? You’re cute and loud and tall, we need bases and I know you would be perfect!”

Chanmi looks up from her lab report to see Yiyin casting pleading eyes at her, and the sigh she lets out seems to shake her whole body.

“Fine. But I’m only going to tryouts, nothing else.”

Yiyin smiles so bright that her dimple shows.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

--

“Chanmi!”

The yell echoes across the library and Chanmi starts, nearly falling off of the chair she had tipped backwards and precariously leaned against the nonfiction shelves. The librarian’s assistant glares as Yiyin comes sprinting and weaving through tables to where Chanmi is trying to study for English and is instead playing Angry Birds on her phone.

“Yiyin?” as Chanmi hurriedly rights herself, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans and readjusting her glasses. They’re definitely class friends, but they’ve never hung out outside of class, and how did Yiyin know Chanmi was here, anyway?

“Chanmi!” Yiyin exclaims again, quieter, as she gets closer. She’s waving a piece of paper excitedly and nearly vibrating, eyes nearly manic in their brightness. “You made it!”

Chanmi just stares, paying more attention to Yiyin’s long legs in her shorts than what Yiyin is saying, until it sinks in.

She gapes.

“I what?”

--

Which is how Chanmi ended up here, two weeks before regionals with her permed hair pulled up into a messy bun and her contacts burning her eyes, practicing routines in the neighborhood park for 4 hours with Yiyin.

“I think,” Yiyin starts, taking a long drink of water as Chanmi watches the graceful curve of her neck and the bob of , “That we are going to rock this at regionals.”

Chanmi nods, still too winded to speak as she grabs at her water bottle and chugs it, the water lukewarm from sitting in the sun for hours but still delicious. She knows without a doubt that walking around tomorrow is going to be hell, but she’s surprisingly okay with that.

They sit in companionable silence for awhile, watching the sunset through the net at the back of the soccer goalposts, and Chanmi curls her arms over her head, feeling a good pop in her shoulders and upper back. She thinks she catches Yiyin glancing at her, but when Chanmi looks over, Yiyin is staring out into the distance, water bottle dangling absently from her graceful fingers.

“So…” Chanmi says after a few minutes, never one to let the silence go on for too long. “How does this work?”

Yiyin blinks in confusion, letting her dark hair down as she runs her fingers through it and pulls it back up into a high, messy bun on the top of her head.

“How does what work?”

Chanmi flushes, somewhat embarrassed as she admits, “Regionals. I’ve never been to a cheerleading competition before, didn’t even know there were competitions before you told me. So I mean… what’s it like?”

--

It’s wild. It’s overwhelming and busy and the entire area is crawling with cheerleaders in all different uniforms from various colleges all over the state, groups that are busy in prayer circles and doing each other’s hair and fixing their makeup and uniforms, going over their routines and a few that seem to be having panic attacks.

Chanmi isn’t doing so well herself, having frozen when she walked into the area and saw what was going on. She’s taller than most of the girls here, and she knows she stands out with her bright orange curly hair. For the first time in a few weeks, she feels uncomfortable in her uniform, and she tugs at her skirt, holding her gym bag closer to her body.

“Chanmi?”

She turns at the voice and sees Jungah standing there, looking at her worriedly. Jungah is a year younger than her, a freshman, and always looks on the verge of falling asleep. But when she’s performing, she’s something else, filled with a fierce determination and drive that turns her into a different person.

“Are you okay?”

Shaking her head, Chanmi looks around again and jumps when she feels Jungah’s arm loop through hers. Jungah is tall, almost as tall as Chanmi, and she presses herself against Chanmi’s side as she maneuvers her through the crowds of girls.

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” Jungah says quietly, Chanmi’s bare arm as she speaks, and despite herself, Chanmi begins to relax. “I remember my first competition… I was only 12, and I was a late add, so I barely knew anyone else on my squad…”

--

By the time they reach the rest of their squad, who had travelled ahead while Chanmi was frozen, Chanmi is nearly okay, tightening and loosening her ponytail but otherwise showing no signs of nerves.

“Where were you guys?” Yiyin rushes forward, concern marring her pretty features, and Chanmi smiles apologetically, giving Jungah a small nudge so that she can go off and finish doing her hair.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, taking deep breaths and feeling better now that she’s surrounded by her squad again, and especially Yiyin. She’s barely known these girls but a few weeks, but with practice every day, plus Friday games, plus extra practice on the weekend and classes with some of them, they already feel like her second family.

Baekhee is in the middle of putting on more eyeliner but she looks up from her compact and says, in a gentle, unBaekhee fashion, “It’s okay. Everyone’s first time is hard.”

Yiyin puts a hand on her shoulder and Chanmi looks down, taken aback by the conviction in her eyes when she states, completely convinced, “You’re gonna rock it,” and she raises her voice just enough that everyone up to Minseon, who’s in the corner doing breathing exercises, can hear her, “We are all going to rock this. We know this routine. We’ve practiced this routine so many times that this isn’t anything. Think of this as just another practice. We got this.”

And for the first time since she got here, Chanmi actually believes it.

--

“Don’t you dare-”

Lu Hei screams as Chanmi pops out from behind the couch and sprays her with silly string, followed closely by Junghee and Minseon throwing confetti at her.

The music is pumping throughout the house, loud enough that Chanmi’s surprised the neighbors haven’t complained yet, and the alcohol is flowing freely. Lu Hei, strangely strong for her size, lunges at Minseon and tackles her to the ground, shoving confetti down the front of her shirt and laughing when Minseon splutters.

Her spray can empty, Chanmi tosses it in the nearest trash bag and wanders towards the kitchen to get something to eat.

Lu Hei is loaded, and offered her huge house as a celebration spot after their performance at regionals. Chanmi is still buzzing from the adrenaline, high on success and winning, and she seems to be floating.

The hands at her waist catch her by surprise and she squeaks, lets herself be manhandled into the nearest bedroom. The lights are on and it’s Yiyin who’s got her, hair falling loose and slightly damp from her shower around her shoulders, too big sleep shirt falling off her shoulder and hanging around her thighs. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, but her eyes are clear and bright, and she sounds sober when she says, “You did so good today. I’m so proud of you, Chanmi.”

Chanmi flushes, scratching nervously at the back of her neck. Yiyin is so close, Chanmi can smell the fruitiness of her shampoo and the spearmint toothpaste she used. This could be a bad idea, and Chanmi attempts to step backwards and put some space between them, because she’s all about self sabotage.

Yiyin stops her, hands in the fabric at the back of Chanmi’s shirt, and Chanmi fears her heart might burst out of its chest, it’s pounding so hard.

“Yiyin…?” she asks, cautiously, because this can’t be happening? Not to someone like her, not to a mechanical engineer cheerleader lesbian. Whatever is happening, it just doesn’t happen to people like her.

“You know,” Yiyin starts, casually, sliding her hand up the back of Chanmi’s shirt, and Chanmi nearly shivers under the warmth of Yiyin’s fingers, “There was another reason I wanted you to try out for the team besides me knowing that you’d be good.”

Chanmi edges closer against her own free will and runs her hands down the subtly defined curves of Yiyin’s bare biceps, relishing in the way Yiyin’s eyelids flutter at the motion, like a content cat.

“And what is that?” as Chanmi swirls her thumbs in the crook of Yiyin’s elbows, feeling Yiyin’s fast but steady pulse against her fingertips.

Yiyin cracks her eyes open, and instead of replying right away, presses her palms flat to Chanmi’s lower back and pulls her forward slightly, so they’re standing flush against each other. She pushes up onto her tiptoes and just breathes against the line of Chanmi’s jaw for a few seconds, long enough that Chanmi feels her palms begin to sweat and she thinks she might pass out.

“I like you,” Yiyin whispers, and Chanmi feels the words more than she hears them. Her heart stops in her chest, breath catching in , and a small part of her wonders if this is a dream.

The warmth against her lips is absolutely real though, and although it takes a few seconds for Chanmi to catch on, she realizes that Yiyin is kissing her. She makes a pathetic sound in and curls her fingers in the sleeves of Yiyin’s shirt, kissing back with a sort of desperation that she’d be embarrassed about if she wasn’t so overwhelmed.

Yiyin tastes like mint and white wine, and she laughs in the back of , softly and sweetly.

As Yiyin pushes forward and Chanmi finds herself walking backwards, keeping their mouths connected even as her head goes light from the need to breathe, she thinks that maybe joining the cheerleading squad wasn’t such a bad idea after all.