Discovering Scar

When Scarlett moves to Amrica, she begins to find new people, new secrets and a new her.
But with the help of her Soul-partner, can she get through it all?

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5. Cheer

 

 

“Rise and shine baby!” Brooke's voice bellows in my room, causing my eyes to fly open in surprise.

“Brooke? It's seven in the morning; on a Sunday!” I groan.

“Yes but;” She sits cross-legged on the end of my bed.

“It's the first weekend of cheer practise!” She claps her hands in delight.

“So come on! Up!” Brooke shakes my shoulders underneath the duvet. I sigh and haul myself out of bed. It's been a month since I moved to America and I haven't spoken to Logan since the night at the beach. I stretch and yawn; wiping sleep from my tired eyes.

“What do I wear?” I ask Brooke, who's picking at her nails.

“Gym stuff I guess,” She rises from my bed and flings open my wardrobe doors. Peering inside, she pulls out a pair of shorts and passes them to me. I pull them on quickly, watching as she heads to my doors. A few seconds later a tight-fitting sports bra is flung at me. I pull it on, messing my long hair up in the process.

“Sit!” Brooke instructs and I sit down on the floor. Using my brush, she pulls my blonde hair into a high pony-tail. Then she puts on a light touch of my foundation, coats my lashes finely and adds a skin coloured lip gloss.

“Let's go!” She cheers, leading me by the hand out of my door.

 

“Okay girls!” Coach Brew shouts at the crowd of girls gathered in front of her in the morning light.

“Copy what Shauna does and you'll be fine!” She points to a tall, sleek girl with platinum blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes; the typical American cheerleader.

“1, 2, 3, 4!” She calls and we start to attempt at copying her moves. I don't do too bad; it wasn't that difficult.

“Good, good. Now, on to the lift!” Coach Brew bellows.

“We need the smallest girl!” Her eyes scan the crowd. I position myself behind Brooke; praying Coach won't notice my five foot one frame.

“You! The English girl!” She points at me. Brooke pushes me towards her and I stumble to the front.

“Don't worry, just kick your legs and smile.” She pats me on the back before shoving me in the middle of a group of over-eager looking jocks.

“You'll be fine,” Someone whispers behind me. I turn on my heels to find Logan grinning at me.

“One,” The boys lift me up by my heels.

“Two,” They bend their knees.

“Three!” I'm catapulted in to the air, screaming as I go. I come crashing down; my eyes closed. But only one set of arms grab me; Logan's.

“Oh dear, are you okay?” Coach Brew comes sprinting over to me; her eyes assessing my body for damage.

“Yeah,” I say, shaking.

“It’s a good job that you caught her, Logan.” Coach Brew pats him on the shoulder awkwardly; obviously taken aback.

“Any time,” He says before lowering me safely down to the ground.

 

“I can't believe he caught you like that,” Brooke says as she sits down beside me. She hands me a tall glass filled with icecubes and lemonade and I sip it before answering.

“Like what?” I frown.

“Well,” Brooke stirs her ice around her glass with the straw.

“Usually he would have stepped out of the way and laughed about it like the rest of those stupid jocks,” Her eyebrows pull together in puzzlement.

“I've never seen him act so... well, nice around a girl before. Especially a girl who goes to Wingsten High.”

“What do you mean?” I pick at my nails, trying not to feel so much like a giddy school girl.

“Logan never dates anyone who goes to Wingsten. Or lives in Wrickenwridge for that matter. He just doesn't roll that way.” Brooke uses her fingers to make speech marks when she says 'roll'.

“Never?” I ask, eyebrows raised. She shakes her head as she sips her lemonade.

“Hey guys!” Amy exclaims as she bounds up to our table.

“Hey,” Brooke says, shuffling over on the booth seat so she can sit down. We were inside a cute little 1950s style ice cream shop; complete with a jukebox.

“How'd cheer go?” She asks, taking out her headphones.

“Okay,” I shrug and Brooke glares at me.

“Are you kidding?” She squeels.

“What?” Amy takes a sip of Brooke's drink.

“Well, Scar here got chosen to do the lift with the jocks. They sent her up and stepped out of the way; laughing.” Brooke says dramtically and Amy's eyes widen.

“But, she got caught.” She adds and Amy gapes at me.

“By who?” She breaths, brushing her mass of curls behind her ears.

Logan White.” Brooke winks at me.

“No!” Amy says.

“Yep, he was all- Oh Scarlett, do not worry my darling. You're safe in my arms.” I throw an ice cube from my glass at Brook and she squeals again.

“Shut up,” My cheeks burn red as I try to stop myself from caring too much about him.

“Looks like Logan is a sucker for little blonds from England,” Amy winks. I don't know why but I hoped so.

 

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