Whatever Original Cindy had been expecting when she walked into Regionals was immediately banished when she set sight upon the place.
There were dozens of them. Possibly hundreds of them.
White girls in short skirts, belly-baring tops with their straight hair in ponytails and clean white sneakers on their feet. At least 60 of them had blue eyes and about half of them were blondes with a distinct lack of junk in the trunk. It was like a beautiful, white chocolate dream.
Cindy crossed her fingers and prepared to approach one particularly cute blonde who was doing her stretches on the floor. Max held out an arm to stop her.
"Whoa girl," Max said in a low voice. "Cheers are our first priority. You can prove your animal magnetism later."
Original Cindy cussed under her breath, but abided by her boo's rules and followed the rest of the squad through the throng of white chicks.
After a few hours (which soon turned into days!) of Red Bull-deprivation, Max was looking a little rough around the edges. Sure, she was getting five hours of sleep at night -something that she hadn't done since the eighth grade when she discovered the life-giving elixer - but she was craving the stuff like an addict craved his D.O.C., or like Original Cindy was craving one of those white girls.
"So, are your parents coming?" Max asked conversationally.
"I don't know if Alec's coming," Original Cindy told her.
"That's not what I -"
"You were thinkin' it," OC shot back. "And to answer your actual question: no. Ma's in Germany fixin' up some couple with a nice new life, and Dad's in Australia with makin' nice with the Prime Minister."
"What do your parents do, OC?" Max asked.
"Hell if I know, but it keeps us in skittles and beer, don' it?" Cindy grinned and Max smiled back.
"Got that right."
"What about your family?" Cindy asked. Max shrugged.
"Renfro had a business meeting. Sketchy said something about Druid having hook-ups in Venezuela, and Deck doesn't like coming. But it's okay," she said with a smile. "I've got a back-up family. Right, Josh?" Joshua, who'd been tagging along behind them, raised his arms and howled.
"Max has back-up family!" he yelled, attracting the attention of several other squads.
"Who?" Original Cindy asked.
Joshua Sandeman had a very small, loving family. Or at least one-fourth of it was loving.
Dr. Sandeman was a tiny, balding gentleman with a kind heart and very small teeth who hailed from somewhere in South France... or at least that's what the pictures that Joshua had shown Max seemed to show. She'd never actually met the man that raised Joshua from when he was a small mascot (he mascotted for Max's old elementary school squad - the Panthers) and his costume was only fifty pounds. Joshua told lots of stories, though.
His wife had died sometime ago, but from what pictures Max had seen, she was somewhat of a midget as well. It was hard to imagine how two parents who barely reached five-one managed to create Joshua - a creature who towered over the Reds at an amazing 6'8 and seemed to be made out of pure muscle.
Joshua Sandeman was the eldest child out of three. The middle child being, none other than Ames White (Dr. Sandeman's son from another marriage... yeah, Max didn't quite understand it either), who, at the time of regionals, was still sporting a bruised face. The youngest child was a twelve-year-old oddling named C.J. Sandeman who had brought along his pet snake, George.
All together, they made up Max's perfect back-up family for the occasions when her own family was absent. Namely, cheerleading events. C.J. was admittedly a more enthusiastic clapper than Don Lydecker, anyways.
"Guevara," White spat as the squad neared him.
"White," Max said, just as threateningly.
"White," growled Zack. White paled, but sneered at the same time.
"Okay, guys! I realize that there's a lot at stake here, and we're all sort of strung-out, but the key is to work together and - aaah!"
Max bumped C.J., who'd been giving a speech to the squad, out of the way. She addressed the team.
"Okay, guys! I realize that there's a lot at stake here, and we're all sort of strung-out -"
"Really strung-out," Brin muttered to Syl. Max glared at her, but continued.
"Just remember every single speech that Val ever gave us over the years. She gave a lot of speeches. It shouldn't be hard. Cindy -" Max made a vague gesture, "you just do whatever it is that gets the crowd lovin' us."
"I got you covered," Cindy promised.
"Syl!" Max yelled. "Keep your spirit fingers movin'." Syl nodded. "Brin," Brin snapped to attention, "no heroics," Max pleaded. "And to the rest of you..." she sighed. "Let's just get this over with, aiight?" There was a general chorus of agreement from the team.
She looked around, noticing a strange absence of loud hooting.
"Zack," she said. "Where's Zane?"
"Zane is..." Zack looked around for his younger brother, peering over the heads of the others. Jondy, who was standing right next to him, started to freak out.
"Oh my God, where the hell is Zane?" she shrieked.
"Zane?" Joshua asked, his mascot head turning in every direction. "Zane! Zane! Zane not here?"
"Zane not here, big fella!" Max said, bordering on panicking. "Zane not here at all."
"What's so wrong with Zane being gone?" Cindy asked, looking confused.
"Zane tends to do really stupid stuff when he's alone," Syl told Original Cindy. "The last time..." she shuddered and leaned into Krit's chest. "Oh God, the poor duck never knew what was coming..." Krit rubbed her back soothingly.
"That... it don't sound good," OC looked at Max. "What the hell is wrong with Zane?"
"Nothing's wrong with him," Zack argued. "He just gets bored and starts playing with stuff. The school counselor arranged for him to have a few tests to see if he was a sociopath... they were inconclusive."
"Only because a mysterious explosion destroyed all evidence of the lab where he'd been tested," Max deadpanned. "This is bad. This is very, very bad." God, she needed a Red Bull. Or three of them.
"What's bad?" a voice asked from outside of the group.
"Zane!" Joshua yelled, giving the young man a huge bear hug.
"Josh, Josh! Air!" Zane choked out. Joshua released Zane, then pointed a fat, furry paw in his face.
"Zane not go missing again!" he scolded. "Everyone," he gestured to the team, "was very worried."
"I'm fifteen!" Zane complained, looking at his fellow cheerleaders (or as he liked to call them, jocundity technicians). "I think I can take care of myself by now!" There was silence for a second, before they all disagreed with a "yeah right" or a "hell no, dude" or a "you's whack" in Original Cindy's case.
"Bloodhounds!" one of the stagehands shouted. "You're up next! After the Muskrats!"
"Word," Max yelled back. She turned back to her team. "People, we've been practicing this damn cheer over and over again. And if there's something we have down by now - it's those fucking spirit fingers!"
"Oooh, she's cussing!" C.J. giggled. White slapped him on the back of the head.
"So, let's get out there and - "
C.J. stood up. What followed was possibly one of the filthiest emissions that ever came from a twelve-year-old's mouth; it lasted only fifteen words, but it simultaneously made Jondy faint, Tinga (a new mother) cringe hoping that her son would never say those words, and White gape in horror at his younger brother. Some teams surrounding them that had the disfortune to hear what he'd said were affected as well. One girl actually vomitted.
Max pointed at the pre-pubescent boy. "What the freak said!" she agreed.
"Uh... Max?" Tinga said, from where she'd been watching the Mighty Muskrats cheer. "Anything sound familiar?" They quieted for a moment, listening. Just above the dull roar of babbling cheerleaders, was a song.
Cale's song. The one that he taught them.
"Zane, you still have that paintball gun, right?" Max asked.
A/N: The paintball gun, of course, being a flashback to the last chapter (where Joshua somehow get Zane healed of a paintball injury.
In upcoming chapters: Cheerleading injuries! Betrayl! (Or that may be in the chapter after next... depends, really) and another one of Joshua's parties that ends in horror!