Thursday, August 13, 2009
Group Therapy: Nessie and the Cheerleaders
“Would you put down the damn pom poms and listen to me?” Cheerleaders could be so difficult sometimes.
“Ness,” Bree replied. “We’re in the middle of practice.”
“But this is an emergency,” I argued. In my opinion, my recent bout of insanity was more important than perfecting stunts for a football game.
The squad decided to take a break. It was for the best. One chick looked like she was about to pass out if she didn’t eat something soon. They all sat down in a circle, surrounding me. “Go ahead,” said Bree.
“This isn’t fucking story time, Bree.” I had a crisis going on, and she wanted me to spill my guts to all her peppy friends.
Bree just smiled. The girl never got angry. She just loved everybody and everything. It was freaky and unnatural. “You’re not going to find a more eclectic group of majors. There’s bound to be somebody on the squad who can help you. Think of it as group therapy.”
I huffed and sat down with them. “Fine, let’s-- what the hell is this?” A Barbie look-alike had thrust a sparkly stick into my hands.
“If you want to talk, you have to hold the spirit stick,” she informed me nicely. “It’s squad rules.” We never had to do this shit in rehab.
“Whatever,” I replied. I could hold the damn stick. No big deal.
“So what’s the emergency?” Bree asked, taking a sip from her water bottle.
“I kissed a guy and I liked it,” I confessed.
Their was silence from the squad. “Did you think you were a lesbian? Your facebook says you’re straight.” Was she allowed to speak? I was still holding the stick.
Maybe I should have been more specific. “If this leaves the circle, I will cut you,” I warned seriously. “There’s this guy, Jake. He’s really hot, and even though he kind of hates me, we’ve fucked on more than one occasion.”
One of the smaller girls covered her ears. “She’s very sheltered,” Bree explained.
“My bad,” I shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve always liked pissing him off. It’s fun, and his reactions are funny as hell, but out of nowhere, I started to like like him. To top it all off, he’s been getting jealous when other guys look at me, and he even drove all the way out here because I didn’t say goodbye before I left. Now, I don’t want to just f--” Shit, I remembered the sheltered girl, “have fun with him. I want to… oh hell, I just want more than that.” I sighed. “What do I do?”
Barbie took the spirit stick and rapped me over the head with it. “Ouch! Bitch, what was that for?”
“Tell him!” she exclaimed as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. When I glared at her, she moved away nervously. “I mean, if you think it’s a good idea.” She quickly handed the spirit stick to the guy next to her.
“I can’t just tell him,” I argued. That was preposterous.
“Why not?” Bree asked.
“You’ve met me. Do I strike you as a let’s talk about our feelings type of girl?” Until recently, I wasn’t even aware I was capable of these particular feelings. I blame Bella. She warped me with all of her damn cynicism. Of course, now she’s head over heels for Eddie boy, so I guess it didn’t stick with her either.
The guy holding the stick spoke up. “It sounds to me like this dude wants more from you, too. My suggestion is to keep being a pain in the ass, since he seems to get off on it, but do something to let him know that you care about him. That’s what I would want a girl to do anyway.” I kind of gaped at him. That sounded pretty wise coming from a male cheerleader. “What?” he asked, noticing my surprise. “We’re not all gay.” I had to stop stereotyping people.
They had to get back to practice, and I had homework to do, so I got out of their way. I was in the middle of writing another damn paper when I decided to call Bella.
“Tell me you’re not in trouble already.”
Did people not just say “hello” anymore? “I have feelings for Officer Goodbody other than lust.”
“What do you mean ‘and’?” Did she not get that this was a big deal?
“Everybody knows that you and Jake are meant for each other, except for you and Jake.”
“That’s ridiculous. That would make me as clueless as you were with Edward.” There was no way I was that bad.
“That makes you worse. I guess it runs in the family.”
I groaned, “Shit. Just give me some advice. What would Mistress Marie do?”
“She would hang up on your ass. Stop calling me Mistress Marie.”
She really hung up on me. I guess I deserved it. I knew how much that irritated her. That’s why I did it.