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don’t want to be late for Mr. Adewale’s class, even though we have a quiz in speech and debate this afternoon. It’s always a pleasure to see him.
    â€œBut how will you know until you try?” Was this dude listening to the conversation I had with myself yesterday about trying out for Susy, the lead role in the spring play? Could Mr. Adelizi actually be on to something with cheer? “Think outside the box, Jayd. That’s what colleges look for in serious candidates.” Mr. Adelizi takes the call and leaves me to mull over my options.
    Is my future here already? College always felt so far away from high school, but my senior year is around the corner. I’ll be out on my own soon and I want to have the best options available to me. Wait until my crew finds out that I, Jayd Jackson, Miss “I hate all things ASB, athletes and cheerleaders” is thinking of joining the enemy. I’ll really be coined a traitor then.
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    The quiz in fourth period took up the majority of class time, leaving my crew and me no time to chat. It’s a hot, sunny day and everyone’s outside eating. So far, Nellie has dominated the lunch conversation, sharing all the vivid details of her first Lamaze class with Mickey and Nigel. They’re required to have a backup labor partner for Mickey just in case the father’s not there, and Nellie jumped at the chance to take control of another aspect of Mickey’s pregnancy. If I can get a word in edgewise, I can lay out the news about pom-poms in my future for everyone to laugh at. Maybe they’ll even talk me out of it. It’s a silly idea, me a cheerleader in the short skirts and tight sweaters, screaming Go, team, go! in front of a crowd. No, not me. It may be fun sometimes, but I can’t imagine becoming one of them.
    Nellie takes a break from her chattering about the latest breathing techniques to ease labor pains to take a sip of her Diet Coke, finally allowing me the chance to share my news.
    â€œI’m thinking about trying out for cheer,” I say in between Doritos. Chance, Jeremy, and Nigel all look as shell-shocked as I feel for even considering it.
    â€œShut up,” Nellie says, overexcited. “Me too! Finally, one of you is getting involved in the right kind of extracurricular activities. The drama club is so strange,” Nellie says, primping in her MAC compact mirror. I guess she needs to be perfect for her Associated Student Body meeting in a few minutes. It’s the last six weeks of school and ASB is in over-drive trying to raise money for prom and the rest of the end-of-the-year activities, including the cheer tryouts next week.
    â€œI didn’t know ASB members had to try out for their own activities,” I say, confused about the process. I’ve never wanted to be a cheerleader, but since dance class is over it might be fun to show off my dance skills in another way. I do miss making up routines. Weight lifting is cool but boring. If I make cheer, that will be my PE for next year and that sounds good to me.
    â€œOf course we do. And besides, I know I’ll make it whether I’m an Associated Student Body member or not,” Nellie says like she’s an officer of the group. Nellie won Homecoming princess for the junior class—not an actual election—making her an honorary member for the rest of the year. If Nellie doesn’t find another way into ASB’s tight-knit social and political circle, she’ll be out. Speaking of which, we’re voting for ASU officers soon and I need to make sure my speech as a candidate for president is on point. Even my haters will find it difficult to ignore the truth. I just hope they vote for it, too.
    â€œHey, y’all want to come by after school and kick it for a while? We haven’t had a good session in a while,” Nigel asks, looking at all of us. He’s in an unusually good mood and I didn’t even have to cool him off.