James, the van driver, and Mark, Nicki's father were talking in the front seats of the car as Nicki watched everything zip by in the back. They passed the most crowded beach in Los Angeles, but she thought it looked fun to rollerblade around in a bikini with an iPOD strapped to her back. There was a nice-looking ice cream dots stand, too. That could be something to look forward to. A skateboarder did a stunt on some railing before falling on his side. His friends ran to him, one with a camera in his hand, and the other one was asking if he was okay and smiled when he saw that he just stood back up and tried again. It was then that Nicki felt homesick instantly. She was wearing her earphones to keep herself busy and to stop thinking about her old school life. It was getting harder and harder, though. She felt like crying more and more as time went by, but she had to be strong for herself. She may be far away from her friends, but she could always make new ones. No one said it was going to be easy just a longer journey to happiness.

Once she chose another reggae song to play on her Sansa Fuze, she looked up to see some high school cheerleaders walking towards a kiosk and reading some flyers. Now that she was away, would she be able to continue cheerleading in Los Angeles? She put her heart and soul into the Young A. Wessex Suns cheerleading squad. She didn't know if she could continue, especially with the knowledge that she won't ever be able to make captain. Spirit law in her school stated that no cheerleader is nominated captain unless he or she has attended a school since freshman year. Yeah, so those dreams of being captain were tarnished for good, but there shouldn't be any harm in checking out regionals or nationals. Besides, there was still gymnastics, dancing, and volleyball to keep her going. She had other interests, so she wouldn't be depressed for long. She was actually the only girl in her old squad who loved other things besides cheerleading and boys. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't going to miss her boyfriend, Daryl Joseph, at all. All he cared about was an ambitious woman with a big booty and if luck should be on his side some "smokin' titties" is what he would say. Maybe here in Los Angeles she could find a better boyfriend. A lot of actors and musicians move here to become international celebrities, and that took ambition, luck, talent, and intelligence. If lady luck liked her enough, she could probably find someone romantic and sweet but a little different and edgy. Being a girl from the hood didn't mean she was only into gangsters and thugs.

When a bump interrupted Nicki's thoughts, she was finally able to see her new school peering back at her. Of course, it looked empty since it was still summer and no student wants to be at school over the summer, but its campus was large enough to make the school look deserted. The school building itself was a mix between an old Gothic church and a modern art facility. There was a metal statue in the middle of a fountain in the middle of the front lawn, and recycling bins were next to every trashcan. Apparently, Nivaldo Gill was "going green." The campus was especially neat and clean to prove it. It was beautiful! The only thing that bothered Nicki about the school was its lack of flowers. That was a let-down, but Nicki believed she could fix that. She promised herself that before school started she would buy some flowers for the house and some for the teachers. No place was perfect without a little color, and Nicki was a girl who needed color to satisfy her now dull but potentially better life. As James pulled into the parking lot, Nicki took notice to the true size of Nivaldo Gill and realized it was a lot bigger in person than in posters.

"Damn, this place is huge," Nicki whispered, turning the music player's volume down.

James parked the van in an empty guest spot, shifted the gears, and killed the engine. Nicki was the first to get out of the car and walk to the sidewalk in front of them. Mark stepped out of the van, put his sunglasses atop his head, and a made a disapproving hiss.

"Look at all that campus!" he complained, walking to the sidewalk. He was no more than twenty or thirty steps from the van before he said, "Anybody tryin' to lose weight can walk 'round the parkin' lot. Lose plenty pounds."

"Where are we goin'?" Nicki asked, following her father.

"Counselor's Office to get your schedule together," Mark said, rubbing his round stomach. He wasn't exactly a skinny man, but he wasn't fat either. He just liked to eat. Mark turned to his daughter and said, "You gon be goin' here from now on."

Nicki sighed as she noticed banners hanging on poles that honored the founders of the school and the familiar armored knight mascot. She wasn't sure how she recognized anything related to this school, but something persistently told her that she knew this school. She asked, "What's the name of this school again?"

"Nivaldo Gillian, home of the purple knights."

"I know I've heard of that name before," Nicki said, thinking to herself of any possibility she may have had in crossing the name. "I don't remember where, though."

"This might be one of them regional championship schools. They got a bunch of teams."

"Nah, their sports' teams suck," Nicki said, chuckled. "I saw the records for the football games on yo' new Blackberry, and it wasn't that hot. They got a bunch o' teams fo' nothin'."

"What chu know about the football stats?" Mark questioned, though a bit disappointed. He was a star football player himself in high school.

"The average winning for this team is two out of thirteen regional games," Nicki said, scoffing. This school made Wessex High's team look better; at least they won seven games out of the regional championships one year. "So that's what? About fifteen percent of the time they might have a winning chance? Pfft!"

"Well, alright, it's a little fall from grace of the football we used to, but we gotta make the best of it," Mark said, rubbing Nicki's shoulder with his rough hand. He pushed open the door and followed his daughter inside the Counselor's Office.

Vacious Ubersax, the vocalist for Stagnant Pulse, was experiencing an emotional high and low as he walked from his car to the front entrance of Nivaldo Gillian. At times like these, he should be running around the school then to his girlfriend for a kiss and telling everyone that he got a spot on the radio and was able to sing a few songs as tribute to the Grunge movement and Thrash Metal. However, Vacious was less than excited as he should be. His girlfriend wasn't in his life anymore, even though he wanted her to be. He knew it was stupid to find love in high school because everyone knows you're a kid who should be studying but your friends pressure you into dating and sex, but he had genuine feelings for his sweetheart. Now, when he wants to shout about his successes to her, he just buries the euphoria deep instead and uses silence as maturity. Many in school think he's the cool kid who takes no shit, but he knows himself better than that. He loves being noticed for his talents in music; he loves hearing the praise from people who thought he was too different to make it; he loves having the opportunity to showcase his voice and lyrics and band. He just wished he could find someone to tell it to - someone who could see how hard he worked, someone who knew what he wanted to hear the most, someone he could talk to. It didn't have to be a girl, just a friend. Vacious made some decent friends among the goths at school and the circle of friends he had in the band, but he didn't have a best friend. Neither did his more outspoken sister, Lara, and she loved cheerleading. That cursed sport took away a lot of things from him and his sister: trust, optimism, a place to belong, passion. All those things were missing.

As Vacious walked inside the Couselor's Office, he stepped to the sign-in chart in the office and read two names he hadn't heard before: Parent, Marquis Cabrini, and Student, Nicole Cabrini. Not wanting to think too hard about weird names, he shook his head then signed himself in for counseling. The minute he started signing, he saw a girl zip behind him and saunter over to the Kentwood water dispenser. She was probably the same height as his sister if not taller, had long legs, and she had a very clean hairstyle like a model or popular girl. The way she carried herself didn't seem like a popular girl or a model, though. Her swag was straight, in control, and mature like she might've been a senior who knew what she was going to do in college and no frat boy or pervy teacher was going to break her down, but Vacious knew a lot of seniors in NG High. No way would he miss a profile that hot. Though he was Alaskan-bred and raised in some shady neighborhoods growing up, Vacious wasn't always attracted to African-American women since a majority of them were into Denzel Washington, Jay-Z for hopefully the money, and some other people he would never hear about or be interested in. However, he did like how this black girl carried herself. He watched her bend over slightly to get two cups of water before noticing he was ogling at her butt. Just because a girl bends over in cute, striped shorts doesn't mean it's an invitation, right? Well, apparently, that didn't quite register in Vacious's mind. He tried to stay focused to write his name, but his eyes would wander back to the girl. Even as she drunk water, she held the cup from the top rather than the side which just fascinated him and made him thirsty at the same time. He turned to complete his name then licked his lips before walking to the water dispenser.

The girl made good timing when a voice called out to her. She hurriedly filled the two cups with water again after drinking both cups down and walked to the direction of the voice. Vacious grabbed a cup, filled it with water, and then basically followed the girl to her counselor's office to overhear the conversation going on.

"Alright, Ms. Cabrini, it says here on your student account that you received some scholarship money."

"Which scholarships? I didn't have time to sign-up for any."

"You got the FANS Funding Program scholarship, which helps transfer students pay for their tuition for the first year at any school of their choosing, the LAF Grant, which gives transfer students money for books and supplies, and a work-study job at the cafeteria to pay for your lunch. This is all you have on your account. If you need more money, you can accept a loan from the school."

"We don't want to do that," Mark said, waving that suggestion off completely, "so we'll work something out when she gets her syllabus. Is there a bus she can take to get here?"

"Well, there's a public bus that runs through your area that stops two blocks away from the school; other than that, I don't know for sure if our school buses pass through your neighborhood. You would have to go to the transportation services on the second floor to find out."

"Oh, well, she can take the public bus," Mark said, accepting that suggestion over the other one.

"You gon give me bus fare?" Nicki asked.

"Yeah," Mark answered, wondering why she had to ask that question.

"Alright, I'm a hold you to that. When are my hours for the cafeteria duty?"

"You've got the morning duty from 7:30 to 8:30, and lunch duty from 10 to 1:30. You might be called for afterschool duty from 4 to 5 for the sports' teams, academic teams, and so forth."

"There you go baby. You can try-out for an afterschool team," Mark said, turning to Nicki and hinting he wanted her to at least try to cheer up and join a team.

"Oh, are you an athlete?"

"Just cheerleading and volleyball," Nicki said, shaking her head lightly.

No... Vacious thought, heart plummeting in his stomach. He took some deep breaths to control the emotional low that was beginning to overwhelm him then thought, It's okay, dude. You don't know anything about this girl other than the fact that she was a thirsty beast earlier. She doesn't mean anything to you. So what if she is a cheer-transfer? That doesn't mean anything to you, dude. Just calm down, calm down...

"Funny you should mention that. The cheerleaders are in the yard practicing right now; the volleyball team just left school for training camp, though. You just missed them."

"You wanna go check 'em out, baby?" Mark asked.

Nicki blew out a breath between her lips then said resignedly, "Why not? It's not a guarantee I won't like it."

"Ready, girls?" a teenager shouted, clapping her hands optimistically. "We're gonna change the formation here to a right hip dip on 4. Alright, and 5, 6, 7, 8! And 1, 2, 3, dip, 5, 6, 7, 8! Good!"

The young teenager seemed to be a regular quirky girl at first glance, but, as she watched everyone's movements, her face turned red with dissatisfaction. She stomped over to the boombox, smacked the stop button, and began shouting her disapproval of some of the steps. The squad were very pristine and synchronized with a majority of their movements, but they didn't need someone pushing them to their absolute limit. They all were no more than eighteen years old at this point. Why push them to insanity over a little wrong move? Teresa Puccini, the curly red-head from a small town in Italy, cared a great deal since she was the Nivaldo Gillian Knights' cheerleading captain. She fought hard to be better than her previous captain, who was a striking brunette and cheerleading tyrant, but as she progressed to graduation with only herself to challenge her rule over the Purple Knights she was slowly beginning to realize why the "spirit stick curse" fell over all the captains at this school. She couldn't begin to wonder why that curse only wrecked a captain's insanity; she just wanted to win nationals this year without anyone's help and that included her own team. How she managed to make it this far was a wonder.

"Let's just take a water break!" Teresa said, calming herself down. "I'm just as tired of bitching as you guys are tired of listening. Hurry up, we only have one more hour before we talk about nationals this year."

"What's stressing you out, Poochie? You're normally a little more controlled than this," Teresa's brunette friend, Yonnie, said in playful concern. "You already redid all the cheers and routines for us. Don't spazz out on us."

"Redoing everything was tough work alone since I made captain. I don't want the squad to hit rock bottom until we've gone sky high," Teresa said, flipping her curly hair over her shoulder. She looked out into the bleachers, noting that no one was there as usual, and tried to remember why she routinely looked in the direction of the bleachers. But, ever since she'd been working her ass off trying to rework routines her old captain drilled into their subconscious, she kept forgetting the reason she searched in the bleachers. Though she knew it was for a person, she couldn't really remember the face she was looking for.

"We are so dominating this year's regionals. I don't know how you do it," Teresa's blonde friend, Michelle, said with a big, confident smile.

"I do it the same way I got on this squad: with attitude," Teresa replied, heading to the bleachers to sit on one. It was then she began to remember why she kept coming to them. Her ex-boyfriend and the hottest goth in the school, Vacious Ubersax, used to watch her on the bleachers as he wrote songs in his "Collections" journal. It was on the third bleacher where he would play his acoustic guitar during practice. A bunch of the other girls would flirt with him, but he always had his attention to Teresa. When practice was over, they would play around and chase each other before he sang a sweet love song to her. Too bad her new boyfriend didn't sing to her like Vacious did; he wasn't a very good lay like Vacious was either, but that took practice anyway. How Vacious managed to have good bed skills for his first time was beyond her, but he was easy to forget about. At least her new boyfriend was the star running back and aspiring dentist. You can't fail in the dentistry business, but you can certainly waste your entire existence on a music career, especially if you're not as big as...Nickelbust, A7ten, or whatever those bands were called that Vacious loved listening to so much.

"Hey, Poochie, someone's dad is checking you out," a guy cheerleader said, pointing to a nearby window.

Teresa turned to the general direction the cheerleader pointed in and saw a rotund man placing his rough hand under his shirt to rub his belly. She cringed her nose and said, "Ew, he's not even that cute."

Michelle turned to see a teenage girl next to the man. She waved at them in a friendly yet obnoxious manner and said, "He has a daughter. Think she's cheering material?"

Teresa sighed, wondering where the goth pin-up boy might have been, but decided to think about more important things like someone's dad staring at her. She said, "We'd have to see them up close and personal. She might be another nobody like those losers in the south. They make our losers look better. Did you see some of the skirts they were wearing? Their asses could barely stay covered. It was so cheesy."

Michelle pouted a bit, trying to think of someone who wasn't cheesy among the Southern cheerleading squads. She remembered one girl and asked, "What about that one gymnast in the Wessex Suns? I forget her name."

Teresa crossed her long leg the sipped some water before saying, "If you forgot it, she wasn't that important."

Yonnie took a moment to think about who Michelle was referring to then suddenly remembered something, "No, I know who you mean. There were four girls that stood out in the Suns. The big girl who had strong arm stances, the tall girl who practiced the helicopter, one girl named Unique, and another girl. Dammit, I can't remember her name! But she was good."

"I don't recall anyone being that good in the Wessex Suns except helicopter girl who I only saw do the helicopter," Teresa said, rolling her eyes and scoffing. "Unique is a name, not a memorable performer. Fat girls aren't allowed on our squad unless they're good gymnasts or can hold up a pyramid; her fat jiggled stronger than her arm stances. Their coach would've made the best cheerleader on that cheer-tastrophe of a squad."

"Wait, the Cheer Camp didn't have coaches there," Michelle remarked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"Of course their coach was there," Teresa said in a matter-of-fact tone, "or some choreographer they hired. She was the only one working with those losers."

Yonnie pointed at Teresa's comment and said, "That's the other cheerleader. She wasn't a coach; she was probably the captain."

"What good captain lets her team go around dressed in tight booty shorts practicing sloppy routines? Not even a great captain would let a team walk around that cheesy," Teresa said, placing her cup of water down. "And if no one can even remember her name, she was just as forgettable as the rest of the Suns. Subject dropped." Teresa said, silencing any further conversation. She looked at her watch and noticed it was almost half past four. "Alright, guys, practice is over. We'll meet here at 10:30 sharp tomorrow to finish this new routine. Get some sleep and get ready for early morning bitching."

Mark and Nicki entered their new house with James to see the furniture perfectly set in place but still wrapped in plastics. Nicki's mother, Jenny, was opening the last box filled with dishes for the kitchen. She unwrapped one final cookout bowl from its newspaper and tape then placed it neatly in a drawer. James said his final goodbyes to the family before leaving out of the front door. Mark and Jenny began cuddling for a while as they put away flattened cardboard boxes in the recycle bin outside. Nicki decided to explore the whole house since she didn't get that opportunity in the beginning. The place was definitely bigger than her old home, and there was actually an extra guest room for someone to spend the night in. Her old house just had the three rooms and one-in-a-half bathrooms; this house had an extra of both. The good news about her new house was she got to have her own private bathroom. The bad news was she couldn't actually find her new room, but she did find a basement and the door to the garage. She walked to the end of the hallway underneath the stairs and found another door. She opened it, turned on the lights, and saw all of her things set in different parts of the room.

She had wood floor in every part of the room except the tile floor in the bathroom and the carpet floor in the closet. Was that a walk-in closet? The walls were like a seawater green, which she didn't like at all but decided it was better than white, and her fan had dolphins on them. Whoever lived there previously liked the beach or something. The tile, wood, and carpet floors were all sandy colored. Yeah, she was definitely painting the walls a different color. That fan had to go, too. It wasn't that she didn't like dolphins and clean beach water; she just didn't want it in her room everyday. Good thing she knew how to paint and put tile down. The carpet floor could stay where it was, but the ugly spotted tiles had to go. Besides the ugly wall colors in her room, there were no flower gardens nearby. The first thing she was going to have to do was install a nice flowerbed by her window and maybe one in the backyard since her mother usually took care of the flowerbeds in the front yard. As Nicki looked at her furniture, she noticed nothing was matching with the stupid walls or floors. She was going to have to repaint everything just to match! But what colors would she use to match cream with cherry wood and light brown sand?

"Nicki, how you like your new school?" Jenny asked, leaning on the door.

Nicki turned around and smiled weakly before saying, "It's bigger than the old one."

"I know it's gonna be hard to let go of your old life, baby," her mother cooed, wrapping her small frame in a warm embrace. "It's only been a few hours since you left. If you want to cry, it's okay now."

Nicki nodded then squeezed her mother's shirt tightly and let out her emotions into her bosom. Jenny rocked her daughter back and forth, knowing she was hiding everything on purpose so she wouldn't seem weak. Nicki was far beyond weak. She was quite strong in personality and in heart. As a mother, she knew how hard it was to have to leave a life so soon without many parting words. She knew because she had to leave her life in San Diego to move to Arizona then Texas and finally Louisiana where she met her husband, Mark. She bottled all her tears in until Mark gave his shoulder to lean on.

"You know, I had to move from San Diego away from my mother for college my second year," Jenny said, feeling her daughter's head pop up a little. Somehow her daughter's cute, little face reminded her of the fear she had with having a daughter: boys. Los Angeles was a different ball game with boys and daughters. She inwardly hoped that no tattoo-infested, headbanger or Compton thug tried to ask her out her first few weeks here. If that was going to be the case, her nerves would be tarnished. She ignored those thoughts and said, "San Diego is a two-hour drive away from your grandmother's house. Maybe before school we can meet her at her house."

"You mean, Maw-maw Willa was commutin' from San Diego when she came to visit us every year?" Nicki chirped through hiccups and tears. Her tears were beginning to dry with news of her grandmother being here.

"Mm-hm," her mother hummed, nodding her head. "Let's go visit her over the weekend."

"Okay."