Mercy sighed as she was dragged down the hallway by Beth-Anne. She knew her friend had projected herself so the entire hallway could hear and that it was her job as head cheerleader to straighten up and flip her hair, acting like she agreed completely with Beth-Anne's words. It wasn't that she didn't agree with her, it was just that she didn't care. Mercy had no need for cliques or cliches in the world, she thought they were unnecessary social stigmatisms that got in the way of everyday life. But, needless to say, she was a part of them. So, she took her elbow out of Beth-Anne's grasp, pulled down the neck of her crop top to an obscene level, and smiled like she was on top of the world.
"Ugh, great, calculus. I don't understand why we have to go through all of this stupid learning shit anyway. It's not like I'm going to use this in fashion major," Beth-Anne says, checking her perfect manicure with a bored eye as they stood outside the AP Calculus classroom. Mercy bit her lip, choosing to not say anything instead of how great she thought math was.
"So, are you excited for this afternoon's practice? I am! I worked on this great routine for everyone," Mercy said with a laugh. Beth-Anne smiled at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and eyeing a jock like he was a slab of meat.
"There goes our captain again, getting these crazy ideas into her head. Remember last time you told me that?" Beth-Anne says and Mercy frowns.
"That wasn't my fault! It was that bratty girl Grace!" Last year, the last routine they ever did, Mercy choreographed it to a T. Perfectly rounded with just the right amount of flips and such, and it would have been great. Until a little freshman on JV decided it was her position to critique everything, and by the time she was done she had the rest of the squad believing her. Mercy, Beth-Anne, and the rest of her clique had watched in horror as they performed at the school assembly. Needless to say, it was a train wreck with many injuries. "And this one isn't for JV. It's for tryouts. There's nothing they can do to mess it up," Mercy says confidently. Beth-Anne smirks and cocks her head, looking at the posters all over the hallway that definitely screamed for attention with their bright, school-colored letters.
TODAY ONLY!
TRY OUT FOR CHEER! GIVE US YOUR SCHOOL SPIRIT AND AMAZING SKILLS, AND WE'LL GIVE YOU A UNIFORM!
TRY OUT FOR CHEER! GIVE US YOUR SCHOOL SPIRIT AND AMAZING SKILLS, AND WE'LL GIVE YOU A UNIFORM!
Mercy sighed, looking at the poster as well. "We should have gotten someone else to design them. It's way too loud." Beth-Anne laughs then frowns at the room number. Just as she's about to tell her something, the bell rings loud enough to saw everyone's ears off.
"Damn, I did not miss that," she cringes. "By the way, this isn't my room. Looks like you're the only one of us in AP, Merce." Beth-Anne blows her a kiss then walks like a model down the hallway. Mercy rolls her eyes, walking into the classroom and taking a seat in the front row. Pulling out her custom textbook, she brushes her hands over the cover fondly. Every time she got a new math class, she picked out her own cover for the book and made sure it was special each time. Looking up at the board, she waited eagerly for class to begin, not even paying attention to who walked in the door and who didn't.