For The Gold

For The Gold

Chapter Two: "Work Harder, Go Farther"

"Okay, girls… and boys," added Emilia, her green eyes darting to the two male cheerleaders who were standing uneasily at attention. They were recruits for the playoffs, new in town and twin brothers. "Today we start practicing for the playoffs. We have three weeks, and they are going to be three tough weeks."

Amber Zamia spoke up. "What about school? And I have piano…"

"We'll have to work around everyone's schedules, yes," agreed Emilia, "because after all, we have an EMT, too—Val, wait, when can we have extra practices? Are you free any other time?"

"Saturdays from one to four. And Tuesdays and Wednesdays five to seven, but Wednesdays I'm third on call, so if there's an overload I might have to lead" said Val, thinking over her schedule. "Yeah, I think that's all, except for Sunday mornings."

"Saturdays one to three and Tuesdays and Wednesdays five to six thirty. Can everyone make it?" Heads nodded. "Anyone with an emergency, call and we'll have an understudy fill in. And if it seems like too much, drop out!" Emilia's voice rose to a firm yell that made certain everyone could hear her. "These are the playoffs! The players may be on the field, but we're on the sidelines and we have the halftime! We can't let the other teams think we're scum because we're not! We're the Cobras!"

"COBRAS!" yelled the cheerleaders. Emilia smiled, knowing her pep talk had worked.

"Okay, first of all, we have a new cheer. Each cheerleader is given a player's name, and those who don't have a name get to do the other part of the cheer. I've tried to match the cheerleaders up with their boyfriends or guys they like…" Smiles went up around the girls who were dating football players. "…So here's the list. Jasmine Hartford, Hank Beecham. Michelle Anders, Anthony Burnet." Squeals answered the girls who were matched up with who they wanted. "And Val Lanier, Tyler Connell."

"Excuse me?" shrieked Val. Emilia frowned innocently.

"Well, don't you have a crush on him?"

"No!" Val protested. "I mean, he's my friend. We're friends. Friends, as in, platonic."

"You two are about as platonic as I'm a Goth," remarked Jasmine bluntly.

Val opened her mouth, but her words were scrambled as they exited her lips. "I—he—work—school—not—," she said. Emilia sighed.

"You like him. He likes you. You guys should just stop pretending you're just friends and kiss already. Andrea Buckman, Hugh Raeford…"

Val sighed.

My friends were all gathered round

And they told me to hear

I told them they were crazy

But they said the truth was already revealed

"I am going to kill Emilia," said Val loudly enough for the others to hear as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself coffee. Tyler and Hank looked up from their checker game in surprise and Jamie sighed.

"Women." He jotted down the answer to the math problem and turned the page.

"Who made this coffee?" inquired Val, coming around into their view and holding up the mug accusingly.

"Me," responded Tyler in reflex, jumping Hank's red checker and looking up again. "Oh my God."

Hank and Jamie murmured similar things as they looked at Val.

"No comment," she said firmly, "make absolutely no comment."

She actually looked pretty nice in it, reflected Tyler, but he had never seen Val in a stereotypical cheerleading outfit before. The Kingsport Cobra cheerleaders wore cheerleading sweaters and skirts ever since the captain of the squad had protested against inhumane treatment and stereotyping of cheerleaders three years ago.

But apparently the cheerleaders had dropped that idea, because Val was standing there, scowling, in dark red-and-white pleated skirt and dark red tank top that was cut two inches above her waist, contrasting tanned skin with the burgundy red of the Cobras.

"Well," began Hank, "it's very flattering."

"Don't even start," said Val, putting the coffee down and falling unhappily to the couch, landing on Jamie's feet without apology. "I'm already going to kill the damned budget committee for having enough money."

Everybody's mouth dropped at Val swearing. Tyler had heard her swear once, but that wasn't a really bad word, and that was it. Hank was glad Alex wasn't in the room, and Jamie broke into a grin as he fought to get his feet out from under her.

"I like your language! Now, if you'd just get off my feet…" Val laughed and rose, then sat down again when Jamie's feet were safely out from under her.

"But you won't guess what else happened," moaned Val, her brief good mood disappearing. "I mean, you really won't guess."

"Are you going to try?" Hank asked the others.

"I'm thinking, not if Val has as good a right hook as Caitie, because my guess is a little on the obscene side," replied Jamie.

"Agreed," Tyler said. "Except for the obscene part," he added, casting a sidelong glance at Val and deciding her left hook was what he was worried about.

"I'm not even going to ask," said Val to Jamie. "I don't want to know."

"Well, if you think about it in the logical sense, it really isn't that difficult to think that—" Jamie was stopped by Hank's hand over his mouth. "Humph blurb cagh hmm hmmph!"

"All right," Val continued, ignoring Jamie and his blurbs, "so we had this new cheer for the playoffs, and it's a perfectly nice cheer and all but—but half the cheerleading squad is matched up with the football players they have crushes on, and they matched me up with him!" Her finger pointed towards Tyler, who shrank back and hoped Jamie wouldn't make an evil crack that would let go of a very important secret that involved Val and crushes…

"Tyler?" Hank sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "Tyler? Does he have to cheer?"

"No, we have to do this—no! Not going there. I'm not going to perform for you."

"Oh, come on," whined Jamie. This was getting fun.

"Do you want more school spirit than you need?" Val asked pointedly.

"Taken. Don't."

Oh, come on, Val, show him, said Val's inner voice, presenting itself once more. I'll do it, if you want. Oh, now we're going to see Duncy embarrass herself? I mean, really, we wanted entertainment, not an everyday happening. She's named Duncy, for heaven's sakes, as in Dunce. Oh yeah? Well, your name's Marge! And you're saying Marge is worse than Duncy? Yeah! Yeah? Yeah! Yeah?

'Get out of my head,' Val ordered them. 'Get out right now.'

C-O-Double N-E-Double L! C-O-Double N-E-Double L! I said, T-Y-L-E-R! Go Tyler! Cobras, cobras—

'That's not how it goes,' Val said. 'And shut up.'

"But—the point is—," she said, ignoring the rants of Duncy and Marge, "that they think I have a crush on Tyler. And they think he has a crush on me. Which isn't true."

"Shouldn't you ask Tyler about that?" questioned Jamie slyly. Val's breath caught before she realized it was Jamie, the continuous practical joker, and he was just making another joke. Still, she didn't meet Tyler's eyes as a barely noticeable blush rose on her face.

Jamie was about to crow out that Val was blushing when the bell rang.

The siren surprised them all, and Val jumped from her thoughts. The others ran out of the room and she followed them.

"I don't have to go save lives in my cheerleading uniform, do I?" she moaned of Alex, who was standing by the door, heavily amused.

"There's an extra jacket in the ambulance," Alex told her. "Put that on."

Val groaned and ran out.

Because they knew that…

You have to work harder

To go farther

And pain means you're succeeding

You have to work harder

To go farther

And pressure means you're doing it right

"One, up, two, three, four, hold! One two three four five and down! Anna, watch Rick's foot! Val, I want your right arm up when you end the flip, and everybody needs to smile! Smile! I know you're all tired and hot, but if we don't smile, no one gets excited. If no one gets excited, our noses get rubbed in the dirt. So smile! And again!" Emilia's voice rang out over the stadium. Amber sighed.

"One break," she begged. "Five minutes. Please?"

Emilia contemplated the idea and came up with a verdict that was definitely on their side:

"Oh, fine. Take five."

Val jogged off and grabbed her water bottle from the bench.

"Hey."

Val screamed and her water bottle splashed water all over Tyler. He stood there a few moments, dripping, while Val burst into quiet laughter.

"I'm glad you're amused," he said.

"Well, I'm not wet, am I?" she asked. Tyler snatched the water bottle from her and leveled it at her head.

"I have very good aim," joked Tyler with a very heavy Russian (or German, or Deutsch—it was hard to tell when he wasn't that authentic) accent.

"Please lower the water bottle," said Jasmine from behind Tyler in a megaphone that had been sitting on a bench. Tyler jumped at the sound. "Val's our big star. Can't have her getting wet."

"I'm about as big of a star as Tyler is dry," said Val.

"You're going to be wet, too, if you don't stop it right now," Tyler warned her, gesturing at the water bottle.

"Me?"

"Don't you dare," said Tyler automatically as Jasmine raised the megaphone to his ear again. "I've already lost my sense of hearing."

"Jeez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," Jasmine said good-naturedly, slinking off.

"So why'd you come?"

Tyler shifted. "I was bored."

"Oh."

It was very annoying when things were that quiet, Val realized. Very annoying when things were that quiet and you were inches away from the guy you liked.

Suddenly, Val had an overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him.

"So…" she began, trying to get her mind off of him—and his lips. "How's Alex?"

He squinted. "Is something wrong?"

"No." Except I'm really dying to kiss you, but hey, that's normal, right? "Why do you say that?"

"You just asked how Alex was," Tyler pointed out. "No one in their right mind asks how Alex is."

"True," agreed Val. Emilia's bark interrupted the short silence.

"Five minutes are up!"

Groans filled the air as they filed onto the field to attempt the pyramid hold once more.

"See you," Val told Tyler, taking the water bottle from him and swallowing the last of the water.

"Bye," he said as she jogged onto the field. Tyler sat down on the bench and watched the practice continue.

And that, he thought, is the first-hand course on how to act with your crush.

And here I am

Looking in your eyes

And some part of me

Wants out of this fight

No pain, no gain

But was gain what I was looking for?

No work, no pride

But my pride's been trampled on the floor

"So," began Caitie as she dipped the brush into the nail polish, "I personally think you should make a move."

"No." Val looked at the teen magazine. "Bad idea. Very bad idea." The brush ran across her toenail as she flipped the page. "Who reads these magazines anyway?"

"I do," Caitie piped up. "It's where I get my style from."

"Oh, shut up," Val said, sitting up and sticking her tongue out.

"Back to the subject," said Caitie, avoiding the subject as she expertly ran a white slash across the next burgundy nail that was the subject of her attention. "Which is why it's not a good idea to make a move on Tyler."

"Because—well, A, he might not feel the same way…"

Caitie snorted. "Yeah, right." Val ignored her.

"B, we are co-workers… and C… well, C, it's just not a good idea."

"C is no excuse and B… well, for three weeks you're not going to be co-workers, right? Because Alex let you go for the playoffs?"

"Yeah…" Val turned the page again.

"So make your move then. This is the twenty-first century!" Caitie ran another white streak over a nail and closed the lid. "All done."

"I don't think so," Val remarked disdainfully—not referring to the nail job. "I really don't think so."

"Oh, well, whatever you want."

"Look at this! 'Love Triangles: You hate her, she wants him, he's being mysterious, and you like him". Who writes this?"

Val tossed the offensive article and the magazine along with it onto the floor, never thinking about what prophecy it might hold…

Because…

You have to work harder

To go farther

And pain means you're succeeding

You have to work harder

To go farther

And pressure means you're doing it right

The bus pulled to a stop, with another stopping directly behind it. The players and cheerleaders immediately jumped off and began to unload their bags.

"Great," Val said to Emilia, "this is going to be our home for the next three weeks."

"Don't sound so excited," smiled Emilia. "After all, Tyler's here."

"Happy days," muttered Val. "I get to spend three weeks with everyone saying they think we should get married."

"I'm more concerned with what you're going to name your kid," Emilia said, overhearing. "Maybe Emmy, after Auntie Emilia?"

"Shut up and help me. I think my suitcase got stuck under Amber's two-ton duffel bag."

"Whose bag is that?" a voice asked. Val turned and saw Hank and Tyler, easily carrying their bags.

"Amber Zamia's," grunted Emilia, tugging at Val's suitcase in an attempt to dislodge it from underneath the yellow hippopotamus.

"Hold on." Val grabbed Hank's hand and put it on the handle. "Pull."

He pulled.

"Ouch. I think I got a blister," complained Hank. He tugged it again. "This is immovable. How on earth did Zamia get this into the bus in the first place?

"Count of three," said Emilia, gripping it. Val and Tyler followed, Tyler's hand landing on top of Val's. Her mouth flew open with surprise at the jolt of electricity that ran up her arm, tingling, as his hand touched hers.

I, thought Val, am a hopeless romantic. She shook off the spark and her surprise at it instantly—it had probably just been static electricity.

The bag moved.

"And heave!"

It came off the suitcase all together and they put it on the sidewalk. A dark blonde came up a moment later and easily swung it over her shoulder.

"Thanks for getting it out of the bus, guys!" she chirped happily. They all gaped at Amber as she skipped off.

"That girl is as strong as an ox," commented Emilia. They all nodded in agreement.

"Thanks for your help," Val said. "See you around." She hauled the black suitcase out and balanced its wheels on the sidewalk.

"'Kay, let's go," Emilia agreed, getting her purple bag out of the baggage compartment.

She and Val set off on the sidewalk with the sign GIRLS' DORMS on it and the others followed them a short way until the sign BOYS' DORMS showed itself and they branched off.

*

"Cool, we're roommates," said Emilia as they retrieved their keys from the desk clerk. "Room 511."

But Val's mind was on other things.

"Who is that?" she inquired, pointing towards the elevator, where a girl was pushing the button insistently.

A very gorgeous girl.

Thick, dark brown locks fell to her shoulders around a perfectly shaped face with a classic nose and carved cheekbones. Her skin was a caramel-colored tan and her eyes were gray.

Cold gray that didn't reflect any of the smile that curved at her lips.

Val shivered.

"Brittany Ashton, I'd guess," Emilia said with a grimace. "Her reputation is about as big as the state—she takes guys, reels them in, uses them, and lets them go again, breaking their heart. Purposes? Money. Winning. She doesn't care who she tramples on her way to the top."

Val fidgeted and looked at the girl again.

"She's making me feel inferior," whispered Val, making sure Brittany didn't overhear.

"Don't give a thought about her figure," Emilia told Val firmly. "You are intelligent and a valuable cheerleader and EMT and student and you have a promising career in front of you once you graduate and go to college. She might not even make it into college!" Val nodded, but her envious gaze kept going to Brittany's tight jeans and sweater. Generally Val wouldn't care about curves, but her crush on Tyler had been getting more serious lately…

"Still, Tyler might, I don't know, like me better if…" mentioned Val morosely.

"Tyler likes you for you, Val! Jeez, get over yourself and ask him out!" Emilia rolled her eyes.

"Why does everyone say I should do that?" questioned Val.

"Because you should," Emilia explained. "Come on. It's not like he doesn't like you!" She picked up her bag. "Let's go up to the room." Val nodded and grasped the handle of her bag, rolling it along the floor to the elevator.

The elevator had only gone up to Level 3 when Val said, "But you don't think Tyler would like her, do you?"

"She probably thinks Tyler's a small-town hick. You don't have to worry." The elevator beeped and the doors opened. "Val, relax. We don't have practice until tomorrow and you have plenty of time to hang around with Tyler and Hank and me and everyone. Forget about Brittany. Think about Tyler. Think about asking him out. And then do it!" They reached their room.

"Fine." Val unlocked the door with her electronic key and pushed it open. "Hey, nice place. I wonder if there's a mini-bar."

"That's the Val I know," laughed Emilia. "All charges are paid for by the sponsors, right? So we get control of the mini-bar and the room and room service without paying extra. How great is that?"

"I think I'll have eaten too much to cheer," said Val, putting her suitcase down and unzipping it.

"Yeah, right."

"You think Tyler would accept?" Val asked, distracting herself from unpacking and sitting down on a chair, her knees folded up to her chest like a small girl.

"Of course."

"'Cause it would be really embarrassing if he turned it down. Hey!" Her eyes lit up with an idea. "Would you ask him out for me?"

"No."

"Oh." The light faded. "Fine. I'll ask him out."

"That's the way to go," said Emilia.

"Yeah. Do you think if Brittany asked him out, he'd accept?" asked Val forlornly, looking out the window and putting her chin on her knees. Emilia bit her lip.

"Maybe."

"Oh. Okay."

Emilia sighed and looked at the clouds along with Val.

I've got pain

I've got pressure

I don't what's wrong with me

I thought I had the nerve but now I see

I have to work harder

That much

That much harder

Yes, I am fully aware it stunk. Oh well. Next chapter should be interesting… maybe. What happens when Val tries to ask out Tyler? Why is Brittany being such a jerk? And has Brittany finally realized the only way to make the stars of the show fall? Stay tuned for… Yeah. Anyway. No one except Brittany, Emilia, Amber, Amber's bag, and Kingsport High's cheerleading uniform belongs to me. The others belong to Alliance Atlantis. Bye!

~Ivy Leaves