Ain’t a Cheerleader in Texas...
Day 10
But come five AM, there was no effect. They dolled up brighter than ever, put on NFL-style short shorts and bra with revealing vests and knee-high boots, and marched out onto the auditorium stage. They did a sync’ed dance to rev up the crowd, which included some of their former campmates and future teammates. Once that was done, they waited for the Big Three to arrive.
The Big Three turned out to be five- there were two wild cards alongside the three powers, two smaller schools that had through luck and skill earned the right to choose from among the best of the best. Not that Jessie knew anything about that. She had made the final day, and she was a Texas cheerleader through and through, without the free will to care about anything but being selected and used by the school that wanted her.
“Beginner’s luck that Houston Methodist got one of the wild cards. Boy, you said you used to coach the Terps. You ain’t some sort of ringer, are you?” the director asked of Houston Methodist’s coach, a plump blonde man in a Houston Methodist golf shirt ad blonde goatee.
“No, sir, that’s why I left Maryland. We’ll teach the girls to be proper cheerleaders, mark my words. Y’all do a fine and dandy job getting ‘em ready, but we’ve got our ways at Methodist of makin’ sure they do us proud- wasn’t there at the time, but I hear that’s why it took ‘em so long to move up to Division I- there were some bugs to work out. Don’t hardly matter now, we’re honored to be here, and I thank you for presenting such beautiful gals to choose from,” the Houston Methodist coach said. The briefcase he clutched like a lifeline contained files on all the women on stage, and one in particular showed that she would be a challenge beyond the other girls (who were all going to be challenges), but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He inspected Jessie, who posed for him as directed by the man in the cowboy hat.
“This one been claimed yet?” the Houston Methodist coach asked.
“No... no, the rules are clear. State law. Any school that earns the right to pick here has free reign,” the director said dejectedly.
Holly strutted over to try and work her wares on the man to lead him over to another woman, not one who had fallen deeper than the others, but the coach pulled out a deck of metallic and reflective playing cards and waved the queen of hearts in front of her. “Not very smart, queen of hearts, not very smart,” he drawled, watching as the card sparkled Holly’s eyes into a different emptiness and she lost focus on her assigned task, returning to her owner’s side. The camp director put an arm around her waist and glared at the coach, but there was nothing he could do.
“Can’t say as I blame you for hesitatin’. I reckon you were gonna draw her name out of the hat the second I left and have her in the jackpot whe we all head down to Orlando for the big meetin’. No shame, fellas, I can see why. She’ll have a fine time in Houston. They ain’t never seen a gal quite like her before,” the coach said in a conciliatory tone, taking her by the hand and directing her to follow him as he collected the rest of his nine-woman haul. “Don’t be sad, Jessica, we’ll have you home soon. We’ll have all y’all home soon. Just have faith in us, and we’ll lead you home,” he said quietly to Jessie as they went.
Once he had his nine, he led them into one of the dressing rooms and locked the door. “They think I go by Huck Rogers, but y’all can call me Darvin. Darvin Samuels, that’s my name. Y’all can barely hear me, but you can trust me- not you, little miss perfect cheerleader with everything fake plastered on you, but the real you, the one gasping for air in the back of your head. I ain’t makin’ a bit of sense now, but you’ll understand someday, when you’re free. I gar-un-tee it,” he said, handing out a few more of his cards to grab their attention. Once they were out, he dressed them for the bus in comfortable jeans and loose sweatshirts, the handed each a suitcase-the very same suitcases they had abandoned at the beginning of the camp.
They walked blindly and did what they were told; the only saving grace of how far they had fallen was that they were too far gone to be heartbroken. Darvin thanked his lucky stars for that- and for making him such a great poker player that he could win the right to claim the pick of the litter, to prove once and for all to a novice university president that the Texas Elite Cheer Camp was nothing more than a brainwashing and bimbo mill.
Daunte stood outside as Darvin made his claim. He adjusted his hat nervously, he never saw anything like this, not even when he toured Japan during his rap days. As he boarded the bus, his jaw dropped at the blank faces and empty eyes; he even went so far as to check pulses on a few of them. Then he rapped out, “Beauty is not what the people see, it is what you wanna be!” His pragmatic words and machine gun style jolted the girls somewhat awake, at least enough to look around and understand that they were not one of the Big Three.