untitled cheerleader story 6

Taylor's mentor graduated and she feels like a part of her is being taken away. She finds comfort in Max and wants him to be another Robin. Taylor questions her feelings for Max and wonders why she is so drawn to him. Max returns home and is questioned by his mom about his late night. He goes to his brother's room to borrow his stuff and they exchange banter. Max closes his door and tries to forget about everything that happened the night before. Hello, I shall now read Untitled Cheerleader's Story, Chapter 6, The Only Way Out. At the end of the school year, Taylor's mentor graduated. Robin was her cheer idol and the only girl on the squad to start the Marilla, who shared Taylor's frustration at both their inability to qualify for regionals and their lack of ambition on the squad in general. She was the outgoing captain, but more importantly, she was the girl after whom Taylor shaped her entire life. The cheer graduations fail much the same as it is every year, but whereas for the first two, Taylor stood at the back and giggled as well, sometimes at up front and deadly serious, for two reasons. Firstly, she was the incoming captain, having held the honorary deputy position for the whole year prior, and it wouldn't have been appropriate to do anything but take this slightly silly ceremony completely seriously. Secondly, and most prominently this time, it was Robin who was graduating. Robin, the girl who taught her everything she knows about cheerleading, the girl who helped her with her history homework, the girl who let her know it's okay to be a bit nerdy if she wants, the girl who told her she doesn't have to like the photo, she would do whatever he pleases, and if she gives him an inch, he will take a mile after mile after mile, was graduating. Robin was leaving her. Taylor didn't take her eyes off her the whole ceremony, it was like a fundamental part of her was being peeled away. Unaccountably, she feels the same way now, which is stupid, obviously Max would have to take it all off sooner or later, because he's got to go home if he doesn't want to send out the search party, as she knew this all along, but watching him wipe off his makeup, watching him walk into the bathroom before a shower, still dressed in her cheer skirts and college shirts, and merging his cargo pants and band shirts with his damp hair, tied back in a little ponytail, it feels exactly the same. It feels like watching one of her best friends leave forever. Oh, Robin said she'll be back to visit for important games, and she'll definitely be cheering them on if they ever get to regionals, but it's not the same. And, not just this, not really, she said of Max, it's only Maxine that's gone, she's being silly. Hey, he says, sensing her discomfort, what's up Tay? He walks up, and cups up a rum in his hand, and goodness, his hand on her right there, that feels so right. She reaches up and covers his hand with hers, because she doesn't want him to take it away. He wouldn't have done that yesterday, Taylor's pretty sure. Before Maxine, there's a barrier between them, a kind of barrier straight boys and straight girls put up between themselves, so they can be friends, and she's glad to have it gone. Be another Robin for me, she wants to tell him. I'm fine, she says instead. She finds a smile for him, and then it's not enough, not even remotely, so she yanks him in for a hug. He falls into her arms, still too thin, especially without the chest padding he wore overnight, but he fits in perfectly, just like Robin did. Now she lets him go, she brushes cheeks with him, and then the gesture becomes, seems too intimate, so she turns it into cheek kiss, before he gets embarrassed and bleeps a renunciated, mwah. Max laughs and says, mwah, for her, deadpan, in his usual voice, but he must have noticed the freeze in her expression, because he does it again, full cheek kiss, and like this time when he says it, it's in Maxine's voice. If she could bother a moment. Taylor follows him down the stairs, into the front door, and keeps her chin up until he's given her one last sparingly smile in return. And then, the front door closes, and she's alone in the house again. What is going on with her? Why is she so determined to spend time around this boy? It can't be because she sexually craves close friendships, because despite the loss of Robin, she still has Willa, and she still has Eddie, kinda, so she knows that this time next year, he'll be preparing to go to the most liberal school he can find, so he can come out of the closet, so hard he'll rip the door off its hinges. And it can't be because she's not satisfied with her boyfriend, because despite all those basic instincts, and external icky level of gross teenage boy-ness, she still loves it when he kisses her, makes her feel like she belongs, like she's a real cheer captain, and a real popular girl, not some nerd who only got their shoes together for this middle school adventure. She's got some thinking to do, she also needs to stop staring out of the window in the front door like a lost puppy. Shaking herself, she spins around, and she runs back upstairs to get changed, so she can get in a few simple stretches in the backyard before she has to show off the remaining alcohol smell. Gosh, Max though, he seems so relieved to finally take the clothes off and clean his face, and that must be why it feels like such a betrayal that she still finds it so easy to see Maxine in him. What takes is a smile. Somewhere, somewhere between Max hurriedly stripping in Taylor's room last night, and Taylor shuffling a pile of his clothes downstairs, and back up again, he lost his belt. He fully tried to hide it by walking carefully and jutting his hip out to the side, but now he's out in the street, his pants are definitely falling down. Christ, he really needs new clothes. All to bulk up again. New clothes are probably easier, at least they're stunk and his shirt fits. He unlocks the front door as quietly as he can, hoping to get upstairs without being spotted, but his entire life has worked exactly once, and this afternoon is no different. His mom, possessor of possibly the most sensitive set of ears in the United States, ruffles out of the kitchen, flowery aprons still tied around her waist. I was about to send Clay out for you, she says, frowning expansively at him. Since when do parties go on until four in the afternoon? It wasn't a party, he says, just some friends. Hmm. She turns her head in a stylish way mom seems to pick up, and yells in direction of the den, Luca, he says it wasn't a party, says it was just some friends. Max's dad shouts, leave the boy alone, Gina. His voice is muffled by the journey up the steps, and around the corner from the room at the back of the house, he's already made his own. Well, his mom says, turning back to him, it's good you're making friends so quick. This is that Taylor girl, is it? Max nods, and some of her friends. All girls? She asks, raising an eyebrow. Not all girls, he says, declining to mention the ratio. If she knew there's two girls and two boys, she's all getting entirely inaccurate ideas. Mom's desperate for boys to find love. She was insufferable at Avery, she found out her orientation, and that Clay has yet to find a city girlfriend, has been a mainstay of their Sunday lunch conversations for at least five years. Hmm, why do you smell so flowery? They shout at Taylor's, because if I came home smelling of alcohol, he'd make me dig my own grave, bury me in it, he doesn't ask. And why couldn't you have borrowed her father's shampoo? Um, why? Gina, are you still hassling the boy? His dad shouts. Mom turns and yells, I'm just checking in. She pulls Max into a brief hug, kisses him on the forehead, she starts a little hype on him, even now, and says, I just worry, Max, I don't want the other boys making fun of you. It's the last thing I want, Mom, Max says. She smiles, kisses him again in the same place, then releases him, ruffling his hair as he escapes. You're a good boy, she says to his retreating back, as good as she can see his face. Because, then, he'd have to explain why that sounds, suddenly, so incredibly funny to him. There's music coming from Clay's room, the music Max knows well, being butchered by Clay playing over it, on his bass, so he stops by. He doesn't bother knocking, Clay would never hear it, and just kicks open the door. Hey! Clay says, stopping the strings with bursts of feedback, and being able to pause the CD. 21st Century Digital Boy comes to a halt in the middle of the second chorus. You have a good night? It was alright, Max says, leaning against the doorframe with Max in nonchalance. Here, I'll borrow my stuff again? It used to be my stuff. Yeah, and then you grew up, he said. Yeah, well, I got nostalgic. Let's put it back where you got it. Sure, Clay says. I return to your carefully organized CD folder. He raises his first and pinky fingers, and thrusts them at Max. Punk rock. Max grinning, gives Clay a much ruder gesture, and shuts him in with his music again, so he can continue to mutilate it in peace. Through the door, Clay shouts, That's my shirt you're wearing. Max leans against the wood, shouts, Like it would ever fit you. He embraces the doorknob, in case Clay decides to try to take it back by force. He doesn't, which is momentarily disappointing. Their burly scuffles basically stop dead after Max got burned. And while he appreciates the thoughtfulness, he doesn't especially like being treated as if he's made of glass, even if he needed it for a while. But then the song starts again, and Clay goes back to play along. He's equally likely that, but instead he'll think of Max as terribly breakable. He just doesn't want to get out from under his base. His room's just down the hall, and Max closes his door, gratefully behind him. Feeling like he's shoving out everything, not just his family, but everything with Gordo, everything that happened last night. He leans against his door, becoming him again, becoming Max, becoming someone and something he understands, Not someone who lets a pretty girl put him in their skirt just because she asked nicely. When he's feeling good and numb like he ought to, he lets himself stagger over to his bed and fall into his face first. Rolling over to look at the ceiling, bare, unlike Taylor's, but still has remnants of her childhood, going to dark stars scattered all over it. He takes a deep breath, and asks himself, So Max, what the fuck was that? But the answer eludes him, no matter how many times he asks it. The thing about sensual crises is, they're boring, so he gets back up again, and sorts through a CD folder. Clay left it out because, of course he did, looking for something to listen to. Nothing leaks out until he finds one of Clay's homegrown CDs, something a friend of his sent over the internet, and of which Clay ran up Max a copy of Bootleg of Life's show by Bikini Kill. Fine, he's pretty sure he hasn't listened to this one before. He puts it on, turns the volume up, and up, loud enough to drown out Clay's cacophony. Yeah, yeah, it's crappy, and it's messy, but it's live, and live music always gets to him, always reaches inside him, and burns away the memories, cauterizes the cold places, remakes them into someone that gives a shit. Moments later, he steps around his room, shaking his hips, showing his arms, only when he catches himself in the mirror, he realizes he's doing one of Taylor's chew routines, but he's tuned to music, and that stops him. It's funny, actually, but he watches himself for a while, throws himself around the room, always in sight of the mirror, delighting in the music, in the joy of movement, the way his reflection doesn't quite look like him anymore. He can imagine Taylor doing him on, trying to get him to do more of her routines, the way she always does. And then Rebel Girl comes on, fuck it, he pulls out the hair tie, a finger combs his hair, a toe slides on him as he dances, the cords hit, he grabs a couple of shirts from the back of his chair, and throws them around himself like pom-poms. She doesn't know if Max is going to show, she spends all Thursday nights worrying about it, she could have messaged him, she has his aim, and his self, but she didn't want to disturb him, he probably had some serious thinking to do, and all Taylor could do last night was hope that his thinking was more successful than hers, and now she's feeling foolish, sitting here at the kitchen table, in workout gear, with a pair of nails the size of the two smoothies she prepared, waiting for him. He's not going to show, he hates her, he's messaging Avery, about the weird Rebel Girl, he can't wear her cheer uniform, he tells his brother about her, oh gosh, now he's telling his parents, and any minute now, his dad and his brother are going to show up at her door, and find out what she thinks she's doing with his... It's Earth. What? Whoa, don't shoot the messenger! Garrett drags himself into the kitchen, and starts rifling through the refrigerator, and she throws a smoothie at him, but wasn't still holding onto the hope, Max will still come over and drink it. What's the message, Garrett? He says, Shit, I smoked too much weed, and now I can only taste congealed foods. He looks down at the pizza slice he's got for himself, No. He says slowly, It's, I helped my little sister out of a jam, and I'm still waiting for her to thank me properly. Drop. Oh, shoot. Leaning forward on the kitchen table, she wants to bash her head on the wood, how many times is this enough to knock some sense into someone? Five? Six? Sorry. She says, leaning back again, I'm frazzled, thank you for rushing over here yesterday morning, I know you didn't have to. She's laying down a bit sick, it's hard to apologize to Garrett, it's been hard to thank him. Garrett mock bows, What are big brothers for? He takes a bite of pizza, ripping the cold cheese away with his teeth, his abs with a full mouth, Planted abscess. It's frustrating, she has so many mean things lined up to say to him, but none of them are appropriate, damn him, he's going to be writing this good deed for weeks. She's saved from her own irritation by the doorbell, since she presents herself just right, we would see past her arch to the narrow window by the front door. Dad jokes that it's for shooting arrows out of, she can easily tell that it's Max at the door, not his brother, or his dad, or Avery come all the way from New York to kick her ass. She doesn't bother hiding from herself, or from Garrett how delighted she is, she hops up from the chair, accepts the smoothies in one motion, Hi, Max says, when the door opens, and who knew she could miss so badly a face she saw, less than a day ago. Up for some practice? Absolutely, Taylor says, inserting all the pep she can find into every syllable. She presents him with his smoothie, which he takes from her, he slurps appreciatively, Hey dude, Garrett says, walking by on his way to his stairs, Yo dude again dude, Don't worry about it, Max says, while Taylor slams the front door and hisses, Garrett! Just sayin'. What's bangin'? Max asks, as the two of them head for the patio doors, Garrett pauses at the base of the stairs, You good? You think you're hot, dude? Tell him, thanks but no thanks. Will do. Nice shirt. Max looks down at his shirt, Taylor takes it in for the first time, Another band shirt, probably, This time for a band called Pansy Division, Under a yellow graphic towards the flower they've printed, Oh yeah, Max says, plain to him, It's my brother's. And what, you just wear his stuff? Taylor's dragging our backs now, trying to pull him out of this conversation, Will Max advise himself to be dragged, He still says to Garrett as a parting shot, I wear your sister's stuff too! When finally she gets him out into the yard, She slides the patio door shut so hard it bounces, He has to slide it again, short clicks, Oh my gosh! She exclaims proudly, doubled over, I'm so sorry! My brother's so embarrassing! I dunno, Max says, Still the girls on you? Yeah, like fungus! Max grins at her, runs out under the grass, As soon as he hits the soft dirt, He tumbles straight into a perfect cartwheel, Coming to a stop, facing her, Arms out, still smiling, We doing this? He calls, Now Taylor's irritation vanishes, As she runs after him, Ready to show him that she can do a perfect cartwheel too, Thank you, very much! A very nice person, Okay, so, You're not allowed to make fun of me for this, But I broke my ankle, Well, almost broke it, Everyone thinks I broke it, Because it's all chopped up, That's why I tell the guy at the deli, Because he gets me free sandwiches, But it's just, well, it hurts, Maximilian, Oh my god, Avery, what did you do? A very nice person, Prefacing this by saying, You're not allowed to laugh at me, Because I broke my ankle, Sorry, Shut up! Anyway, I bet Rebecca's, She's not out to her family, And they came out unexpectedly, Maximilian, Avery, Did you climb out the window? A very nice person, For having you know, I climbed out the window, On two sheets tied together, And Max, I'm not kidding when I say, Don't try it, It only works in movies, In real life it just hurts, Maximilian, It's funny you told me this, Because I almost did it last night, A very nice person, Did what? You almost climbed out of a window? Maximilian, Yeah, A very nice person, No, Max, You can't, You can't, Ever, Maximilian, It's fine, I didn't, But I wanted to, A very nice person, Why, why, why? Maximilian, It's Taylor, She knows I miss gymnastics, And well, She asked if I wanted to be a cheerleader, And there was only one escape route, A very nice person, No, no, I'm out that window, Jump out, Max, you can fly, I promise you can fly, Just jump out of the window, You cannot become a cheerleader, Max, Remember what we used to say, Max, Fear is the mind killer, I'm good, I take back every nice thing, I ever said about Taylor, She's evil, I'm evil, am I? Taylor says from behind Max, In a most innocent tone of voice, Shit! He exclaimed, When the hell did she show up? Sorry! Taylor leans on the back of his chair, And steadies him with a hand on his shoulder, Couldn't resist, Say you let me up, Are your parents ever home? Only when it's inconvenient, Max says, Only getting his heart under control, Give me a second, He adds, turning back to the computer, Maximilian, Gotta go, A very nice person, No, no, no, Max, I have to give you the antidote, Read the bell jar, It's the opposite of cheerleader, I assume, Maximilian, Noted, He rocks out, Closes his eyes for a moment, Turns awkwardly, Round on his chair to face Taylor, Three trees at the end of his bed, He's smiling at him, How much of that did you read, he asks, I don't have a dirty conscience or anything, I'm just curious, He leans forward on his knees, Can't turn on his hand, Enough, no, What to do next time, I want free sandwiches, She didn't mean that about cheerleading, Max says quickly, And I definitely, Don't worry about it, Taylor says with a giggle, I know the rep cheerleaders have, Max stands up out of his computer chair, A fair name for an old dining chair, And stretches, Before flopping down onto the bed next to her, A part of him is still insisting it's not appropriate To sit on a bed with a girl, But they slept in the same bed two nights ago, Any remaining righteousness around casual intimacy Is basically a bad habit, So, he says, Playing back with his hands behind his head, I know why I'm on the internet on a Friday night, I know why Avery is, He leans back, joining him, He thinks because I'm a cheerleader, I have a stacked social calendar, And okay, yes, I kinda do, But this is a slow weekend, Mom and Dad are back tomorrow afternoon, If I want an early start to clean anything I missed, So, yes, I need to face him, See other things, Will those back tomorrow too, That means he's probably going to want to see me, Close, Max says before he can stop himself, It is what it is, Taylor says, So I can repractice in your yard tomorrow morning, Just in case you let him out early for good behavior or something, Sure, but I can't do cheer stuff in my backyard, I think my dad would be scared, Did more of her routines yesterday, Had to admit that he's enjoying them, Fun, though she hasn't got him shouting, Go Titans, yet, It's probably only a matter of time, She nods, Serious gymnast stuff only, She pokes him, And uses pressure to roll herself onto her back, No cheering, She says to the ceiling, But slowly, But she's cheering us off, Also, Gordo's coming back, Like, for real coming back, He's not just showing up at random, It means there's something I can't keep off saying anymore, She breathes in and out, Max gives her time, He knows what she's going to say, Anyway, she's not expecting it, I'm not going to dump him, Max, I have him under control right now, And besides, I know, Max says, I'm changing stomach muscles, It's only a restatement of what he already knew, It still hurts to see someone like Taylor, Shackling herself to someone like Gordo, He's hot, I get it, He adds, To lighten the tone, To show her everything's okay, It doesn't entirely work, Taylor, Her brows pinch, Both over again, Intent on examining his face, You think so? I mean, He says quickly, He's not my type, She giggles, Her features soften again, Relaxes, In that moment, She seems suddenly so beautiful, So carefree, That Max could reach for her, Could kiss her all over, Could tell her how precious she is, How much better she is than a dick like Gordo, But he won't, Because Max has nothing to replace Gordo, In Taylor's life, Nothing even remotely the same caliber, Taylor is better than him too, A little while later, He goes downstairs, Fetch a drink for them both, Bounce right out of the kitchen, With a couple of tinned ice teas, Clay calls him from the living room, He's got his DVDs paused, Looks like the Matrix, He's leaning over the back of the couch, Waiting for him, How's Taylor? She's good, Max says, Leaning against the arch, No. Taylor, Clay says, I mean, How's Taylor? He waggles his eyebrows, Clay, What are you talking about? She's a friend, We're not doing, Whatever it is you're implying we're doing, Oh. He says, Is this another, Ivory situation? You mean, Do I have a friend? Yes. Okay, Okay, Cool, Cool. Do you, Want something, Max? Yeah, yeah, Okay, So since I'm stuck here on a Friday night, And you, Or your, Platonic lady friend, Are just, Hanging out, Put away the scarecrow, Clay. I thought I'd be generous, To get takeout for us all. Okay, Sure. Max drips his lips, Why are you hanging out, Here, On a Friday night? Because I don't know the good venues yet. Clay says, His tone's suggesting, Max is the dumbest person, Ever to have lived, Oh, Right. You want pizza? Aye, Thanks, Max. Max shrugs, Skip whatever, I'm not fussy, I don't think, Bill is either, You could go to that, Get the local option, Alright? Sure. Oh, If you want to know about, Local venues, Max says, Ask Taylor's brother, Garrett, Kid brother, Or older brother? Older. Okay, Cool, Cool. It doesn't occur to Max, That to ask Clay, Stop making the call, Chinese takeout place, If he follows that advice, Garrett might tell him about, Well, All the shit he saw, While Max can't bring himself, To worry about it, Garrett's still out of it, Half the time, It wouldn't be hard to say, He imagined it, Taylor's going through his music, When he gets back, Swings through his folders, Of CDs, Found the drawer, With the tapes in, Too, Has a few of them out, If he notices, That he's back, He holds up one CD, And one tape, For his approval, He swaps out, One iced tea, For one tape, I, Want to hear your music, Taylor says, He loads it, Into the deck, To clash, Max says, Tapping at the tape box, This is more like, My dad's music, Or it would be, If my dad was, A Barry Manilow guy, Still, She says, Presses down, On the concrete play button, Should I stay, Or should I go, Starts up, She holds out the hand, He takes it from you, She starts dancing, A formless, Stepless set of moves, He never gets drawn into, And he picks up, He raises his hand, She spins around, Underneath it, Like a ballerina, And when she's done, She steps forward, Raises her hand, And turns, Grinning at him, Never let it be said, That Max Giordano, Backed down from a challenge, He sits on his place, He whirls under her hand, She does the same, As she did under his, And returns to the neutral position, To find Taylor's smile, Pleasantly enough, To consume her, She doesn't know, Why she dressed up for this, She really doesn't, And she's not, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In 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any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, In any way, Eddie, Eddie, what's going on? Eddie, what's going on? Eddie, what's going on? I tried your cell three times. I tried your cell three times. I tried your cell three times. I only didn't try your house phone I only didn't try your house phone because I hate talking to your mom. because I hate talking to your mom. Where are you? I was practicing with Max out back. I was practicing with Max out back. Good for you. Why isn't anyone saying Maxine is going to be Maxine is going to be at Justin Lawrence's party at Justin Lawrence's party on Friday night? What? Call me. What party, What party, Max-ass? Are Justin's parents Are Justin's parents away this weekend? He wants me to come. He wants you to come, too. I said you were in New York. I said you were in New York. She throws down the phone She throws down the phone down on the bed down on the bed and looks away. He kept pressing. I agreed to ask you. I agreed to ask you. So I guess this is me asking you. So I guess this is me asking you. Cool, Max says. Cool, Max says. Maxine is unfortunately out of town this week. That's what I said. That's what I said. Her phone chimes again. Her phone chimes again. Eddie repeats his last message Eddie repeats his last message and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and 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