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One
“So, Coach Kiri, we’veheard a lot about the rivalry between your squad and the Heartwood High School Bulldogs, who beat you at the New England Cheer Championships in March. What did you tell your squad after you got second place?”
I had to literally bite my tongue to not say the first thing that came to my mind. I glanced at my athletic director, who had set up this whole thing, but she was busy watching my cheerleaders do their warm-up stretches. Fucking hell.
I took a breath and tried not to get distracted by the journalist’s chest. She had a lot going on there, and her shirt was working hard to keep itself together.
Focus, Kiri.
I ran my hands through my short hair, pushing it back from my face, but it just flopped back.
“What I tell them is this: it doesn’t matter if they win, as long as they did their best on that day. Sometimes things just don’t work out. Cheerleading is a subjective sport, and what a judge will like one day won’t be the same the next day. You can hit every single skill and still not come out on top. But that doesn’t mean I’m stepping off the gas. My squad is going to be ready for Nationals.”
There, that wasn’t too bad. I didn’t sound like too much of a competitive bitch, even though I was a competitive bitch.
The journalist made a few notes in her notebook in a swirling hand. “Do you think your team is ready for Nationals?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This was one of those times when I wished it were socially acceptable to carry around one of those stress balls in my hand to squeeze. I clenched and unclenched my hands instead and was grateful this wasn’t a video interview.
“We are. We’ve upped our difficulty, we’ve polished the dance, and we are pumped and ready to win.” Right now my squad didn’t look anything like that. They were goofing on the mat and my assistant coach, Dom, was out today and he usually cracked the whip during the warm-up.
“Do you have anything to say about your coaching rival, Echo Rosenthal?” It took everything in me not to cringe at the mention of her name. Why were they bringing her up? This interview was going to kill me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying for a laugh and making a sound that was more like someone imitating a laugh. This was a complication I hadn’t foreseen, but I should have. If only she knew the truth of our rivalry, she’d have a whole different set of questions for me.
The journalist leaned forward, which made me blank out for a second. “What do you think of the way she coaches her squad?”
I wanted to get up and leave right now, but then I’d have to explain why Echo’s name made me lose it, and there was no way I was explaining to this hot stranger my history with Echo Rosenthal.
“I think she’s very talented, and I think she should be prepared. Because we’re coming for her, and her squad.” I had to add the last part so I didn’t seem like I had a personal vendetta, even though I had a personal vendetta.
There was entirely too much chatter and not enough stretching happening on the mat. It was the perfect excuse to end this thing. “Are we almost done? I need to start practice.” I also needed another assistant coach, but that wasn’t going to happen. If we did well at Nationals, maybe. I got to my feet and stretched my arms above my head. I was twitchy and stressed.
“Yeah, do you mind if we take some pictures?”
I nodded. She’d brought a tall and silent photographer with her and I’d had all the kids sign release forms. The journalist and photographer duo were also coming to our dress rehearsal on Saturday to take more pictures when everyone would be in their uniforms.
