Chapter 1:

I thought back to before all of this confusion happened. The kickoff game felt like rain, but the team played on. Scrimmage...it didn't count on the scoreboard, but both teams knew this was a teller of how this year's lead would go. Lincoln, home of the Cougars, against Hamilton, home of the bumblebees. Facing off to start the year on Lincoln's turf, both schools were out for blood.

Last year had been the most brutal since the rivalry began. Pranks had been borderline illegal and coppers had to be called in for the big game. The cheerleaders were rude to each other in passing and the bands attempted outplaying each other, to the displeasure of everyone within a two-mile radius. Things were going like normal.

At half-time, Lincoln was leading 24 to 21. I excused myself to use the restroom and scouted out the other team. Bedecked in black and red, the cheerleaders chanted towards their home bleachers. One of them was bouncing towards me with her short skirt riding up her thigh.

"Shut up," I scolded myself internally. Since my seventeenth birthday, I'd noticed a definite difference in myself. I started seeing females in the way I had always fantasized males in. It was not good in the slightest. My parents would kill me if I were a fag. I hated that word. It felt personally targeted all of a sudden. I quickly adjusted my gaze from her exposed leg.

"Losing again, I see," she sneered with perfect, straight white teeth. I snarled back, "Just wait for the big game. They're saving their best skills for then." She laughed with an obnoxious rasp to her voice. "Yeah right. They're bringing all they've got and you know it. Our team is barely trying." I turned my head away and murmured, "Just let me go to the bathroom." Se grinned once more thinking she won and replied, "That's exactly where I'm heading."

Finally, the line subsided long enough for me to get into the bathroom with the annoying cheerleader behind me. She made remarks under her breath that I simply chose to ignore. I only needed to use the bathroom and leave. I distantly heard the Hamilton band playing. It was "La Fiesta" as the theme. Lincoln's was "Arctic Achievement." A stall finally opened and I disappeared into it.

I took my sweet time hoping the other cheerleader had finally left only to come out and face her head-on. "Nervous bladder, I see," she spoke with that raspy, almost seductive voice. I scolded myself once more. "Nope, just refreshed from the feel of victory." She gazed at me in wonder for a brief moment before snarling, "Victory? I think you mean victory of losing."

I tried pushing past her but she gripped my arm and spoke right next to my ear, her plump lips caressing my hair. "Meet me behind the behind the bleachers after the game. No witnesses or funny business. Just us two." I nodded and turned away. Half time was nearly over so I rushed back to my station. I didn't even know her name.

The game was tied at the beginning of the fourth quarter. I encouraged my girls to give it their all to finally beat Lincoln. With just about a minute of the clock, Lincoln scored and Hamilton could barely contain themselves. The blood was close to spilling.

The bands blew until they were red in the face, the football players targeted all of their energy on a touchdown, the crowds screamed and booed for the appropriate teams, and the cheerleaders called until we were hoarse. Just a typical scrimmage game.

I kept on stealing glances in between cheers at the girl from the bathroom. She flounced about doing complex tricks whilst leading the others in motivational cheers. I had to up our game. We finally resorted to a final, desperate cry. An old, retired, "banned" cheer was signaled by me. And we commenced.

"Go Team Go!

Beat 'em! Win!

Show show show!

Lincoln is the enemy!

Do you wanna piece of me?

From their helmets to their shoes,

Let's give them a big -"

The principal whistled over our last two words with a scornful glare. "Macy! Watch your step." Coach just shrugged at the administrator. We continued on shouting towards our boys on the field. 32 to 29, Lincoln's favor.

Thirty seconds remained. Facing off in the face of a close game, everyone's blood pressure ran sky high. In a final victorious reach in the final seconds, Lincoln scored a touchdown. Both sides created inhuman sounds. The aftermath was a bit of a blur for me.