Chapter 5 - "Lose your pompoms, princess?"

By the end of school, Courtney wanted to collapse on the floor. But a graceful collapse, perhaps an elegant swoon. Not an embarrassing display of flailing arms with an end result of a tangle of limbs. No, it would be a graceful swoon.

She didn't swoon, obviously. But she could have. The day had been an endless parade of students wanting to laugh over the video with her - which she did, followed by questions of how her ankle was - which she answered with witty remarks. After all, who wanted to hear her whine about the high amount of tiring pain she faced throughout the day. Bleh. So boring.

Now the school day was over and hopefully, that meant the end of the parade. Instead of leaving, Courtney made her way into the gym where two cheerleaders were dressed in workout clothes and talking.

"Hi Kimber, Rosa," Courtney said, easing herself down on the bottom step of the bleacher. "I rewatched the video from Friday, your basket toss was perfect." The girls perked up with the compliment. "Rosa your lines were clean. Watch out for timing for the routine, though. You seemed about a quarter beat off." Rosa nodded, all seriousness. "Kim, make sure you're smiling big, you don't want to look lifeless."

"Got it!" Kimber said. "Anything else?"

"I'll let you know if I spot anything else during practice. Can you two go get the mats?"

The girls accepted and hurried towards one of the storage closest, calling out to two more girls as they entered the gym. Normal. Something normal. Thank goodness for that or I might go insane.

Her ankle throbbed distractingly, but she knew she still had an hour before she could take more pain meds. But being here would be worth it. One part of her life that wasn't falling to pieces like the others. And if she was being honest she'd always sucked at puzzles so she wasn't looking forward to putting the other parts back together.

As the squad set up for practice, rolling out the mats across the baseball court, Coach Ramirez arrived. When she spotted Courtney, she cut towards her. You ain't poking my ankle again lady, not today, not today.

"What are you doing here?" Ramirez asked.

Well, she was posing on the bleachers in the hopes of being the next poster girl for damaged cheerleaders, but besides that, cheer practice.

"Our routines have to be reworked since I won't be in them for a while," Courtney said. "I think we should bring up Holly to fill the gap. She's only a sophomore but she can do the stunt work."

Ramirez smiled at her in what Courtney considered a sympathetic manner. Courtney didn't like that. I'm not broken lady, just minorly damaged.

"I know this," Ramirez said. "It's what I planned to work with the squad today. Cory, you need to go home and rest."

Resting was for the lame. Courtney wasn't lame. With her crutches, she could take down a pair of ninjas. Her crutches were like hidden weapons. All she had to do was go straight for the throat.

"I'm fine," Courtney said. "I'm cheer captain, I will be here for my squad."

"I understand, but as your coach, I'm removing you from your duty. Your co-captain will oversee things until you get back in a month."

Co-captain. Courtney found Lynn among the girls and saw that Lynn had heard the entire exchange. She looked startled and stunned.

Lynn taking over. Cheer taken away. Had the universe not heard how she hated puzzles?

Embrace the situation.

Courtney stood up and tucked her crutches under her arms.

"Squad! Form up," Courtney called out.

The girls hurried forward, creating a semi-circle. If you must leave, leave on a good note.

Courtney smiled. "I have been instructed to be lazy and go home and do nothing." The girls all chuckled. "I'm leaving Lynn in charge. She's your captain so I expect you to respect her. If I come back to find all of you slacking then I'm cutting you all from the squad and I'll be a one-woman cheer squad myself. Which everyone knows would be awful." Louder laughs. "Make me proud."

As Courtney left, the squad cheered and clapped for her, wishing her a quick recovery. The gym door swung shut behind her as she heard Lynn command everyone to get into position.

Courtney paused in the hallway, taking a slow breath. Only a month. It was just a month. No big deal.

Outside the gym, Courtney crossed paths with Aiden as he exited the boy's locker room, his football helmet, and pads in his hands. Yup, the universe hated her.

"No cheer?" he asked.

No. No cheer.

"Apparently, with a busted ankle, it's not the best idea to do a back handspring. Who knew?"

Aiden frowned down at the ground, bumped his helmet against his thigh. From the outside, it had to look like Courtney had been the one to break up with him. Why was this so weird!

"Good luck with practice," she said, heading off.

"Cory?"

She glanced back.

"Could we talk later?"

What was there to talk about? Did he want to get back together? If so, why did that make her want to run away? Even with the messed-up ankle.

"About what?"

"Us?"

"I thought there wasn't an us anymore?"

Aiden bumped his helmet against his leg again, still frowning. But it didn't seem like a mad frown, more of a I-feel-conflicted-and-you-were-my-girlfriend-for-six-months-and-the-one-I-used-to-talk-to-and-I-still-need-that-but-don't-know-if-I-can-have-that type of frown. Or Courtney might have been reading too much into his frown.

"I know, but could we?"

Yes, let's talk while my emotions are E&%IUH$#IVT@. Sounds like a great plan.

"Maybe. But not right now."

He nodded and headed to the football field. With the sun watching her pathetic progress, Courtney crossed the campus to the front gates and the parking lot. Her ride was currently back inside the gym and so Courtney stood on the sidewalk, figuring out what to do.

Over the weekend her car had been towed to the house so that meant Courtney couldn't even attempt driving with her left foot. Probably for the best.

Max rode by and stopped, flipping up the visor of her helmet.

"Lose your pompoms, princess?" Max asked.

Yes, you inconsiderate jerk, I did, among other things thank you for so graciously mocking me for it.

Breathing. You dictate how people perceive you. Yeah, dad well I usually do but not with this Angry Biker Girl. You dictate how people perceive you. Breathing once more because oxygen is good for the soul.

Courtney smiled and felt how the one gesture dimmed her frustration.

"You know I did, if you see them laying around make sure to return them. They look like sparkly porcupines. By the way, it's good to see you've settled in here."

"And you thought I couldn't make friends because I'm not blonde, pretty, or outgoing?"

Oh, that's right, I did think that because I forgot, I'm a stuck-up, stereotypical cheerleader.

"None of those things are mutually exclusive. I know adjusting to a new school can be rough. I'm glad you found friends."

At the sincerity in Courtney's tone, Max seemed to draw back a bit.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks."

Progress! There's progress people! Someone tell CNN! Breaking news, Angry Biker Girl can say something that isn't insulting! And the crowd goes wild. Ahhhhh!!

Max flipped down her visor and Courtney waved at her as she drove off. I will win you over, Angry Biker Girl! I will change your opinion of cheerleaders if it's the last thing I doooo. Okay, probably not, bigger life goals than that, but this is a win.

Courtney turned away from the curb and found cover underneath the shade of a tree and rested on a stone bench. She laid down, leaning her crutches against the side. She felt worn out and decided the best decision she could make would be to lay there and never move again.

If I lay here, if I just lay here will no one bother me and I can just forget the world? Forget what we're told, before we get too old...

What? That's an old song. Courtney covered her face with her hands. I'm not even having original thoughts, I'm thinking in lyrics. This can't be a good sign. What's next? A breakup ballad to help me solve my emotions over Aiden. Ha! If only it were that easy.

Maybe then my brain the radio station will shift to a country song about how I've lost everything. Though I'm not sure if there's a country song about losing cheer.

Don't cry. It would seem pathetic, especially since I would be crying over cheer and not Aiden. Maybe if I did cry I could convince myself it's really about Aiden. Not likely...though I don't know I'm really good at arguing.

"Are you okay?" someone asked.

Oh sure, I'm having an internal debate with myself about how I can change the reason why I want to cry. That's perfectly normal.

When Courtney dropped her hands, she saw Micah standing near her, studying her with a worried expression. Well, that's sweet of him.

"I don't have a ride home," she said.

Yup, that's the only issue I have at the moment.

"I can give you one."

"All my problems are solved then."

Courtney rose and Micah handed her her crutches. In his car, Micah periodically glanced at her. Since she knew his affection lay elsewhere, she figured he had something on his mind. Or he was a conscientious driver and was in fact looking at the passenger side mirror.

"After you left," Micah said. "Max said...well she said my shirt did look good on me."

"Yay! One point for love!" Courtney said, throwing her arms out like she held her pompoms. Nope, too soon. "Did she go on to confess her love to you?"

Micah blushed and Courtney decided it was a good look on him. Heartwarming and genuine. His heart wasn't on his sleeve but on his face...Never mind that sounded worse than she imagined it would.

"No," Micah said. "She didn't. But...I was wondering if you could help me. With...clothes."

"Can't go shopping because Coach told me to go home and rest my ankle."

Micah deflated and Courtney thought about her empty house with so much open space her thoughts would have no reason not to roam free.

"But, if you have somewhere I can sit and prop up my ankle, possibly an ice pack as well then I can tell you what works and doesn't work in your closet."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I love telling people what to give away. I feel like I'm doing the world a favor. And the person I'm helping."

"All right," Micah said, with a soft laugh. "Sounds good."

When Micah drew his car up to the front of his house, Courtney could only gape at it. It was a blend of white stucco walls, with stone accents, and glass, hugged by lush lawns and swaying trees. It was also bigger than she remembered. It was like a mansion on steroids. But in a completely classy way and not a tacky way. If that were possible.

"Yeah...I know," Micah said. He looked like he wanted to live anywhere else right then. "It's...something."

"And your dad is just a realtor?" Courtney asked.

Forget my love of clothes and design, that was a future career.

"He also buys run-down houses, fixes them up, and sells them again."

Okay then, Courtney was going into the house buying business.

Jumping out of the car, Micah worked to extricate Courtney's crutches from the back. She sat with her legs dangling over the side of her seat, waiting. She hated the thought of using the crutches again when it felt like her arms had just regained feeling, but hopefully, it wouldn't be too long.

Micah guided her into the house and Courtney took in the vaulted ceilings, large archways connecting rooms - giving the place an open feeling, and the staircase that twisted to the second floor. Here we go again. Only this time she couldn't crawl up them. There were only so many indignities a girl was willing to bear in front of the same guy.

"Please tell me this house has an elevator?"

At the question, Micah looked like he was to disappear into a hole. Which conveniently answered Courtney's question.

"Oh thank goodness!"

As they passed through rooms to the back of the house and the blessed elevator, Courtney caught glimpses of Micah's family's life in photos. Trips to Europe, Bahamas, Disneyland. One photo stood out to Courtney. It wasn't even a photo but a painting. Classy. Though Courtney figured it was based on a photo since the scene was one that would be hard to hold for hours on end.

In the painting, Micah's father was leaning forward with a boy about five on his back, while next to him Micah, who looked about ten had his arm wrapped around an eleven-year-old Denzel's neck. Beside them, a beautiful woman held two young girls in a tight hug. The entire painting gave off a wild, joyous energy.

"Courtney," Micah said, urging her on.

She glanced back once more, taking in the laughing faces of Micah and Denzel. What in the world happened between them? Not my business, but oh so interesting.

The elevator didn't play music and Courtney approved. It was only a three-story house. Music would seem extreme.

"Ummm...could you, wait one second?" Micah asked, at his bedroom door. "I have to make sure it's...decent."

"Micah, if you don't get me to someplace I can sit down I'm going to swoon on you."

"Swoon?"

"Yeah, it's like collapsing except gracefully. And if I do that you'd have to carry me inside and I'm not sure that's a step we're ready for in our friendship."

"We're friends?"

"It's that or Master and apprentice, employer and employee, Wise Ole Sage and Idiot Adventurer."

"Friends then." A tiny smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Okay...I'm sorry for the mess."

He pushed the door open and Courtney focused on nothing but the unmade bed. Micah hurriedly pulled the covers straight before Courtney collapsed...swooned onto it.

Settled, her entire body relaxed against the mattress and pillows. Yup, she might never move again. She would die here in this guy's room. Awkward for him, but she would be dead so she wouldn't care all that much.

Micah raced around the room, collecting discarded clothes then disappearing into his closet. It smelled like some sort of body spray and boy. A smell Courtney knew from spending hours in Miles' room.

Without the mess, it was nice. Windows overlooking a pool then the golf course. One desk clearly for school filled with textbooks, notebooks, and a computer. While other long curved desk held machine parts. Though Courtney had no clue what they would make. Space ship? Computer? Robot arm? Maybe he could build her a new ankle. She'd cut this one off and replace it with a bionic one. Though that would ruin the effect of wearing anything other than pants. I guess I'll keep this ankle then.

"Okay," Micah said, clapping his hands together. "That's..taken care of. What now?"

"Do you have an ice pack?"

"Yeah."

As he left, Courtney grabbed a second pillow and slid it under her ankle. It didn't take away all the pain but it relieved some of it. Micah returned with what looked like an ankle brace but turned out to be an ice pack designed specifically for ankles. What black magic was this?! And where could she get it? Oh, sweet relief! Yup, never leave this room.

And since that was her future might as well go to work.

"Okay," Courtney said. "First things first, we're going to narrow down your style. Are you a crew neck or a v neck guy?" Micah stared at her blankly. "Do you like shirts that have a v at the collar or not?"

"Oh! Uh, not."

"From what I've seen you wear I would say you're a graphic t-shirt type of guy, correct?"

"You know what I wear?"

Yes, I'm been secretly stalking you this entire time and now I'm going to die in your room. Surprise!

"I notice what most people wear," Courtney said. "I like playing this game where I take the essence of what they're wearing and redesign it so it works better for them."

"So you've redressed me in your mind."

"You make it sound weird but yes. Now I get to do it in real life. So, you're a graphic tee guy?"

"Usually, yeah."

"Okay, and what size is this shirt?"

Micah shrugged. She motioned him forward and she tugged on his shirt so she could see the label.

"A small."

Micah flushed, but Courtney saw no issue in that. He was a lanky guy, it was what it was. Why pretend otherwise? Ignoring facts didn't make them go away.

"Great now we have our starting point," she said. "I want you to go into your closet, find all the larges, and take them down. Before you do, try on a medium and I'll judge if that size is worth keeping."

"Okay," he said, looking like he regretted asking for her help.

Sucks, she was there and unable to move. No getting rid of her now.

While Micah scoured his closet, Courtney messaged Aubrey, letting her know she'd found a ride home. She answered messages from others until Micah walked back into view.

"This is a medium," he said, holding out his arms.

Courtney surveyed him critically. It fit but in a way that kind of made him look like he'd lost ten pounds all of a sudden.

"Keep the mediums but gather them and put them in their own separate part of the closet. You won't ever wear them. Unless you decide to take up weight lifting."

Self-consciously, Micah tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "Should I take up weight lifting?"

"That's entirely up to you."

"But girls like buff guys, right?"

"Most do, sure. But you have to think about what's best for you. Maintaining a buff body takes work. Is that something you want to start? Because once out of high school with college, jobs, responsibilities it's not an easy thing to keep up. What is the lifestyle you think you can continue for the next five years, the next ten?"

"Uh...." Micah stood there looking like a politician put on the spot. "I hadn't thought of it in those terms."

"It's okay, some people don't."

"But you do."

"Force of habit with my parents. I see life through the scope of how's this going to affect my future, how will it affect my life now, and how can I maintain the life I've worked to create."

"Oh."

At his surprise, Courtney wondered if he fell into the category of thinking, like so many who saw her did, that she lived for the now, these years in high school. That these years would be her best years. Her life would peak in high school.

Not if she had any say in it, thank you very much. It was four years after all, a drop in the bucket of her life.

"What do your parents do?" Micah asked.

"They do what your dad does with houses except with companies. They give them media and branding makeovers so they attract investors and customers. They even helped a Senator's campaign a few years back. 'You dictate how the world perceives you'. One of their many slogans."

Micah pulled at his curls. "That's interesting."

"Definitely makes for unique snippets of advice." She clapped twice. "Now, back to work. Go collect and move all the mediums."

Once finished, Courtney instructed him to bring out a pile of graphic tees and they'd start to go through them. He dumped a mass onto the bed and Courtney told him to sit where she could see him.

One by one, she inspected a shirt, held it up to Micah, judging how the color worked on him. He had a warm pallet and she focused on that. Who knew controlling someone's wardrobe could be so relaxing. It helped that Micah wasn't arguing with every shirt she tossed into the giveaway pile. Some he told her he liked and she went with it. It still was his life after all.

"How are you doing with your break up...and everything?" Micah blurted out.

Courtney eyed him over a classic Marvel comic t-shirt.

"Is there a reason you ask me? Because it will be the second time you have. Do I give off a brokenhearted vibe or something?"

"No, it's just..."

"Say it all fast and in one breath, go!"

"It's just that you don't seem brokenhearted and I was wondering if there was something someone said or did for you that helped you not be so sad because my younger sister broke up with her boyfriend about a week ago and she's sad I want to help her but I have no idea how."

He sucked in a huge breath and Courtney softly applauded.

"Knew you could do it. And I'm sorry for your sister. And..."

What to say? The truth could make her sound like some heartless psycho but then again this was the guy who'd she'd almost thrown up on and well, that bonds people. In a strange way. But a bond's a bond, right?

"Honestly, I don't know why I'm not brokenhearted," she admitted.

"But you dated for a long time, right?"

"Six months."

"And you loved him."

"No."

Woah! That was quick and blunt. It seemed Micah had the same thought as his eyes went wide. Yeah, just as surprised as you, Micah. How strange to be with someone for six months but not love them? What in the world did that mean? And did it explain the relief she felt?

Well, that felt like an issue too big to unpack while sitting on some guy's bed.

"Umm...Courtney, are you...okay?"

Courtney blinked. "Of course. Why?"

"You haven't moved or said anything for a minute and it was starting to freak me out."

"Sorry. I don't have any advice for you about helping your sister. All I can suggest is being there for her and listening to her."

"Okay, thanks."

Courtney went back to sorting through Micah's shirts. She didn't love Aiden, what that meant about their relationship...well she wasn't sure now.

"Now," Courtney said. "All of these can go back." She hit a smaller stack. "And I want you to try on these shirts because I'm not sure if I like them or not."

Laden with his narrowed-down wardrobe, Micah stumbled into the closet and quickly came back. Courtney figured this meant he dumped them on the floor. Hopefully, that wouldn't lead to disaster and pile mix-up later, or else all her hard work would be for nothing. Well, not completely for nothing. She did have an epiphany so that was one good takeaway.

Micah disappeared into his closet again with the smaller pile of try-on-and-see shirts. From outside his open door, Courtney heard footsteps and a soft voice calling Micah's name. Micah bolted out of his closet, shirtless, though carrying one.

So not hiding toned arms and an impressive six-pack beneath his shirt, simply a lanky guy. How dare Teen Fiction books be wrong once again! It was really letting her down lately.

"Oh no," Micah said.

Micah's mother strode into the room. She was even prettier than the painted version of her with high, prominent cheekbones, a beautiful complexion, and dark, eyes. She paused, taking in Courtney on Micah's bed and Micah standing frozen in shock, shirtless.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson," Courtney said, easily. "I'm Courtney Hart, a friend of Micah's. It's nice to meet you. I'm helping your son pare down his wardrobe." As she talked casually, Micah hurriedly threw his shirt on. "Micah, your shirt's on backward."

Micah blushed and struggled to right his shirt. Courtney smiled at Micah's mom with nothing but ease and politeness in her manner.

"It's nice to meet you too. Call me Mae," Mrs. Jackson said, looking like she was trying not to laugh at her son's frantic efforts. To be honest, Courtney had the same problem. He looked so flustered and for absolutely no reason.

"What happened to your ankle?" Mae said.

"Cheer. Didn't land my backflip. Micah valiantly carried me to the Coach's office."

"I didn't carry her," Micah said, breathing hard as if the shirt had fought him. "I just...helped."

Mae smiled. "Still, I'm proud you helped. I'm sorry you hurt your ankle."

Courtney carelessly waved away her concern. "Perks of being an athlete. Epic battle wounds. By the way, where did you get this ice pack? I'm in love!"

Mae stepped forward to get a better look. "Amazon. A year back, Felicity hurt her ankle."

"Oh, do you have any tips for helping the process along?"

"I do. I have a cream that's for inflammation and it's all-natural. I'll be right back."

"Thank you!"

As Mae left, Micah slowly turned to Courtney.

"How did you just do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make it seem like we weren't doing anything we shouldn't have been."

Courtney beckoned him forward with one finger. "I'll tell you a secret." He leaned forward. "It's because we weren't doing anything we shouldn't."

Micah blushed and Courtney wanted to laugh. He did that a lot. Or maybe it was just her. She wasn't sure.

"True. I just thought she might think...And your extremely hot so it's not like any guy wouldn't want to...and..."

Oh, the blush deepens. Max, hurt this guy and I will go Hunger Games all over your butt. I will buy a bow and arrow! And I don't even know how to use one! But I will buy one.

"Here you go," Mae said, gliding back into the room. "It's best to put on once all the swelling has gone down. Also, keep that ice pack, we've got plenty of others."

"Thank you," Courtney said. "That's kind of you."

And now came the time to face facts, she couldn't die in this room. Not after meeting Mae, that would just be so cruel to leave her with the hassle of dealing with a dead girl. Must move on.

"And I'm going to go. Micah, I think your closet is in a good enough place that you shouldn't have any fashion disasters from now on."

"You need a ride home, right?"

Courtney laughed. "Yes, I do."

Mae saw them out to Micah's Jeep offering up more tips she had for ankle pain. Courtney smiled and tried to listen as best she could, but her ankle hurt enough most of her willpower went to focusing simply on walking.

Micah dropped her off at her house and helped her to her front door.

"Thank you for today," he said. "It helped."

"We didn't get to those few uncertain shirts," Courtney said. "Sorry."

"Maybe another day."

"Okay, another day. After all, it's what a Wise Ole Sage is supposed to do for her Idiot Adventurer."

Micah laughed and climbed into his car. Courtney let herself into her house and leaned against the door to close it. Forget about swooning, now she was going to collapse.

**********************************************************************

Oh crazy crumbling cookies!

Phew! Made it through the day! *slumps* boy am I exhausted. *waves hand weakly* Leave me your thoughts and I shall keep them safe. Maybe even toss in an encouraging word or too for Courtney! 🗯💬💭

📝 So I'm making a list of all the readers willing to help me take out Max...I mean talk to her. Let me know what you will be bringing to this fight...*coughs* I mean conversation.

Now, onto important things. I'm not going to lie to you soldier, the war is real.

What war you ask?!

The war from the attack of...The M Names!

They are everywhere! They attack me whenever I go searching for a new name. Already they have staked their claim: Micah, Max, Miles, Miguel, Mae!!

Ahhhhh!!!! There is no running from them!! They are here and I can not flee!! I shall die on this battle field of names!! Noooooo!!! *dramatically dies*

....

Okay, well that was a bit over the top but nothing new there!

Now for the reason you're really here...

Come on team let's see you vote! Come on fans let's see you comment! Put it all together...VOTE COMMENT FOLLOW!! *waves pompoms wildly*

(Wow! More proof I'd make a terrible cheerleader)

Shout out to -ABIGORME- for making these covers for me! She even put Olivia Holt as two of them! That's dedication to detail!

And here's your promised meme!