I have to admit, this was a really fun chapter to write. OFF WE GO!
By the time Monday morning rolled around, Abigail was seriously considering throwing her phone out a window. She kept getting the same few texts from random numbers, trying to coax her into becoming a cheerleader. The weirdest part, in her opinion, was that the number was always different, so there wasn't any point in blocking them.
"I'm telling you guys, it's driving me up a freaking wall!" Several girls tried to respond at once, but only the loudest voice broke through.
"Seven daaaays!"
"Shut up, Dakota." Somewhat static laughter erupted from the phone. Abigail glared up at the wafting clouds, waiting for her teammates to stop.
"Captain?" Victoria called out. "You still there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. But I'm being serious, guys."
"What'd your sis-in-law say?" Kim shouted over the other girls.
"That it was probably kids from the school who saw me or heard me at the game. But I haven't given my number out to anyone here. Let alone half the fricken school. None of you put my number on Facebook, did you?"
"No, Ma'am," at least two of them answered.
"Maybe Yuki sent it out. You said she wanted you to get friends, right?"
Abby rolled her eyes. "Bex, I highly doubt I would've missed my prego sister-in-law handing out my number to everyone and their mother."
"Well, alright then, Captain McTouchy."
"Sorry," she sighed. "It's just starting to get to me, ya know? Like, who the hell would want me to be a fucking cheerleader so badly they'd get everyone they knew to text me about it? It's weird."
"Seven daaays!"
"DAKOTA!" She shrieked, causing the people around her to shoot into the air.
"Cool it, Cap'n," Selena, the team's beloved voice of reason, broke through the commotion. "Maybe this ain't so bad as you're thinkin'. I mean, yeah, we all know cheerleaders here suck ass." She paused for the round of agreements. "But, I dunno, maybe over there they ain't so stuck up, ya know? And if your school don't got any, then you'd be in charge of lettin' 'em on your team in the first place, yeah? An' I think we can all agree it'd be better than you losin' all your skill."
"Seleeeenaaa," Abigail whined. "Why do you make so much seeeeeeeense?"
"'Cause Imma BEAST, Cap'n."
"Agreed, you fabulous creature. But even if I did want to, I have work three days a week from 4 to like 8. I don't think I'd have time to be a cheerleader here, let alone a captain!"
"Why not just pull the old man aside and explain the situation?" Becky offered. "And if that doesn't work, hit him over the head with a frying pan and change your schedule while he's out cold. It's a restaurant, right? Should be plenty lying around."
"Bex, please don't knock old people out over a schedule change. Or ever."
She hung up the phone as she entered the schoolyard. Abigail honestly wasn't sure if phones were allowed to be used on campus or not. She'd never seen another student using theirs, so she never did either. At that moment, her phone buzzed twice. The same 'Be a cheerleader or die' text from a new number. She rolled her eyes and turned the blasted thing off.
Opening her shoe locker, she leapt back as a flood of brightly colored papers spilled out. Carefully, she lifted one of the many sheets that had fallen to the floor. She was far worst at reading Japanese than speaking it– which was certainly saying something– however, there was a fairly large picture of a girl in a cheerleading outfit. She got the message and immediately crumpled it up.
Whoever they are, they're pretty fucking resilient.
She slipped on her school shoes, collected the papers, and tossed them into the nearest recycling bin. Abby snapped her collar and readjusted her bag strap before heading upstairs. She studied the set of posters along the wall that had appeared overnight. Most had pictures of footballs and helmets. Others, particularly the ones near her classroom, had cheerleading uniforms and pompoms. She entered her classroom, scowled, and glared up at the ceiling, inhaling and exhaling loudly through her nostrils.
Abigail tossed her bag on top of her desk then walked up to the blackboard, folding her sleeves. She grabbed an eraser and began to rub out the annoyingly large drawing of a cheerleader, who looked suspiciously like herself, saying God knew what in Japanese.
This is gonna get really old, really quick, she thought, slamming the eraser back into it's holder with a growl. A sudden movement at the door caught her eye, but when she turned her head the doorway was empty. Abby blasted towards it, eager to catch the culprit and give them a piece of her mind. Of course, it was at that moment Kitagawa-Sensei decided to walk in. The two nearly collided into a spectacular mess, but the girl managed to jump back in time.
"Green-san, what on Earth...?"
"Uh... Uh... Good morning, Kitagawa-Sensei. Weather is nice, yes?"
Smooth Abby, smooth. I'm sure he doesn't expect a Goddamn thing with a response like that. The man looked from her chalk covered hands and uniform to the streaked blackboard.
"Green-san?"
"Yes, Sensei?"
Kitagawa-Sensei opened his mouth, closed it, glanced at his watch, then back at her. "Sit down, Green-san."
"Yes, Sensei."
By the time lunch rolled around, Abigail's classes had reset her temperament to its usual, unbothered state.
Per usual, her lunch consisted of a peanut butter and banana sandwich and apple slices. Yuki had offered on more than one occasion to make Abby boxed lunches in the morning, but she would always decline, insisting she could take care of herself. She couldn't go around letting others coddle her at this age. She was practically an adult after all.
Another, unspoken reason, was that Japanese food tasted heavy and unfulfilling whenever Yuki wasn't around. Every bite made her homesickness swell until she was too filled with guilt and longing to even open her mouth. PB&B on the other hand made her feel like she hadn't left home at all. It was the one thing that had remained unchanged upon crossing the Pacific; it was the anchor to her old life and the remedy for her new one.
She finished the first half of her sandwich as three boys she didn't recognize burst into the room. They started looking around viciously in search of something, or someone, as though their lives depended on it. An unsettling suspicion settled in Abigail's stomach. She downed the rest of her sandwich quickly and stuffed the baggie of apples into her skirt pocket.
"He said the 'fucking American', did he mean that blonde girl?" The brown haired one asked, pointing at her.
"Who else would it be?" Another, with big sunglasses, scolded him. Abigail immediately stood and made her way towards the back door.
"Hey, sit down! We need to talk to you!"
Aaaannnnd run.
Abby bolt through the door, the sound of rushed steps and clattering desks not far behind. She flew over the first flight of stairs and skipped most of the steps on the second. Hitting the first floor, she raced down the hall. Turning here and there, she hardly knew where she was or where she was going. Her shoes streaked against the linoleum as she skid to a halt: a dead end.
"Oh man..."
Someone snatched her arm. "Gotcha!"
Shrieking, Abigail sprung into the air and blasted both feet into the chest of her captor. The force knocked him over and pushed her away. She stumbled to the floor but managed to leap up again quickly. She rushed to an open window and dove out, catching herself with a cartwheel. This time, she wasn't followed, but heard several loud "HUH?!"s behind her. She kept running.
Abby let herself slide against the wall, nearly out of breath. She was not the running type and yet she had sprint from one side of the school to the other. Taking off her blazer, she let out an exhausted sigh. She pulled out her apples and steadily ate them, content to hide in the building's shadow for the rest of the day. Everyone at this school was absolutely insane. If she'd had any doubt before, it had been snuffed and smothered by today's madness.
"Had enough, Fucking American?"
She raised her brows at the question. Following his voice, Abigail found the Devil teen staring her down a few feet away, his toothy grin firmly in place.
Somehow, she mused, I'm really not surprised. She finished the apple in her mouth before answering.
"I do not know what you are speaking about."
"Oh?" His smirk only grew. "Then you wouldn't mind this continuing?"
Abigail stuffed the empty baggie back into her pocket and stood calmly as she slipped her blazer on.
"You will have to be more clear, Hiruma. I do not understand Japanese so well." She walked past him fixing her collar and flicking her hair. As if every terrifying rumor she'd ever head about him wasn't flashing through her mind at warp speed.
The Earth will not crack in two, the Earth will not crack in two, there is literally no way he could make the Earth could crack in two...
"What if I said, students who don't join a club aren't allowed to graduate? They make you retake the entire final fucking year."
She faltered, stumbling over a rift in the concrete, then blinked. Reaffirming her conviction, she said, "It does not matter what you said. It is not truth."
"You sound pretty sure of yourself," he jeered.
"I am. Yuki read to me school rules and... uh... code. No thing like that was there." She grinned and began walking away again. "However, was good try, Hiruma. Be seeing you later."
The next morning, a chime rang across the campus.
'A-attention s-students. This is y-your principal speaking," a voice sniveled from the P.A. speakers. There was a loud 'click-clack' sound and the man whimpered. "T-There has been a ch-change to our transfer p-policy. All students who have recently t-transfered to our school m-must join at least one after school program. A-any who do not c-comply will not be allowed to graduate at t-the end of their final y-year. Th-Thank you, have a nice day.'
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?"
Abigail ripped through the clubhouse door. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT BULLSHIT!?"
Shrieking, the Devilbats sprung from their chairs and swarmed against the walls. The American charged forward as Hiruma, unfazed by her outburst, deliberately popped his gum and withdrew his attention from the rifle he'd been cleaning.
"Oh! If it isn't the Fucking American!" He leaned forward, grinning widely, nearly distracting Abby from his flawless English. "To what do we owe this shitty visit?"
"Don't play dumb, you twisted, fucking jerk! I know you had something to do with that damn policy change!"
"Who me? I haven't done a thing." He cocked the gun, sadistic amusement dancing in his eyes. "Perhaps you should feel lucky I even offered you a way out. I don't think any other clubs are going to offer their membership anytime soon."
Abigail paled. Who in the world am I up against?
"Cheating bastard," she grumbled crossing herself. She huffed loudly and glared at the floor, trying and failing to find a way out of this tangled mess. Her mother would murder her if she was held back for something so silly and easy as joining a club.
Is that it? She asked herself. Am I really giving up just like that? A voice in the back of her head reminded her she didn't have a choice. It sounded like Hiruma. Another said it wouldn't be so bad. That she'd have fun. It sounded like Marcus. She groaned, rolling her eyes at the hand she'd been dealt.
"Fine. I'll be your stupid cheerleader."
Hiruma's grin widened in triumph.
"One condition, though."
His face fell. "What is it?" Clearly, he did not think she was in any position to be making demands.
"I'm in charge of tryouts."
The Devil smirked. "All yours, Fucking Cheerleader."
"So it was Youichi-kun, then? I wondered why he wanted your number."
"YOU GAVE HIM MY NUMBER!?"
"Yes?"
Abigail slowly let herself deflate from the couch to the floor. "Yuki, why do you hate me?"
Yuki flipped through several commercials. "You know I do not."
"I know." Abby sat up. "But still. How am I gonna juggle school, work, and being a cheer captain? I know like nothing about cheerleading!"
"I am surprised. Is dancing and cheerleading so different?"
"Well... Yes and no. It's kinda like football and rugby. Sorta close, but still two totally different sports. Like, obviously, cheerleading is more lift-y and pyramid-y and… shout-y than dancing."
"If that is the case, then do what you know, Abby. Make little fixes there and here when you have to, and do your best. As for work, you know you do not have to–"
"Don't even try getting me to quit. That money's going straight to my nibling!"
"Nib... Nibling? What is 'nibling'?"
"Dakota told me it's the gender-neutral term for nieces and nephews." Abby shrugged. "She probably got it from that Tumblr site, so I dunno if it's true or not."
"Nibling," she said again, letting her lips wrap around the foreign word for her child. She smiled. "How cute. Anyway, was worth a try. But Williams-san seems very understanding. I am sure he would not mind changing your schedule."
Abby nod. "Guess I'll tell him tomorrow after work."
"Do not be upset, little sister," Yuki cooed, smoothing the girl's hair. "This will not be so horrible as you are thinking. You will have fun and make friends. It will be a good thing."
"But I already told you, I'm not here for that stuff. I'm here because–"
"I know," she forced. She took a frail breath and turned away. "To be honest, I wish I could forget."
Abby looked down at her toes, trying to shove away the memories of her brother. The way he laughed when she complained about this and that. How they yelled and screamed at each other over silly, sibling things. His hugs at the airport when he'd been gone too long and going away again too soon. The way her heart had stopped when she overheard the news. How sunny skies and a warm breeze had mocked them while the Earth slowly consumed his casket.
She didn't want to forget. She just wanted to remember without hurting.
Merp.
Okay so let's see: we met Abigail's dance team via phone call, I got to channel my inner Hiruma, and we had a nice little semi-sad sister moment. All in all, a pretty nice chapter if you ask me! XD
BTW, Abby's dance-mates are: Becky 'Bex' Albano, Selena Santos, Victoria 'Vicky' Attar, Kimberly 'Kim' Harris, and Dakota Bentley. Just thought I should put their names down where everyone could see them in a non-confusing way. I'll probably do the same for her cheer squad, when they come along. :)
As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!