Do I have to be a cheerleader? -8/?
title: Do I have to be a cheerleader? -8/?
pairing: eventually Peterick
pov: 3rd
rating: a general PG-13
summary: Let's have a look at the sophomore year of one Patrick Stumph,who one day wakes up as a girl.
disclaimer: yeah,Patrick is my bestfriendforever and we're here braiding our hair...
A/N1: jsyk the characters post has been updated
A/N2: *sighs* and now it's gonna take me forever to write new chapters...
A/N3: i have no idea how cheerleading auditions are,also because there's no such thing as cheerleaders at school,in my country
||masterpost||
||previous||
The final ring bells, freeing the students for the afternoon.
The doom is soon approaching for Patrick: he signed for the cheerleaders auditions, with much regret now. He’s never felt so nervous before, and the pang of guilt for the misunderstanding-slash-delusion from Greta’s part doesn’t comfort him.
He shuffles his way to the gym once again, where he throws his backpack on the floor and breathes in an attempt to calm the fuck down.
A girl runs in the gym, smiling widely at Patrick.
“Hi, I’m Katy!” she introduces herself, “Are you here for the audition as well?” she chirps, widening her already big blue eyes.
“Y-Yes…Hi, I’m Trisha,” Patrick replies hesitantly.
“I’m so excited, I’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience, and I really admire Ashlee and the others,” she says eagerly.
Patrick cocks an eyebrow, ‘What’s so amazing in a bunch of girls that cheers and show their legs and asses during a match? And what’s so worth of admiration in that bitch of Ashlee?!’ he thinks.
Katy misinterprets Trisha’s doubtful expression, “Sorry, sorry, when I’m agitated I tend to be quite annoying,” she apologizes, thinking the other is irritated because of her.
“Oh! Oh, no, don’t worry, it’s comprehensible…” Patrick reassures her timidly.
Meanwhile other girls have entered the gym, chattering enthusiastically. Patrick is so not in the mood, he’s definitely the black sheep of the group; what the hell possessed him the moment he signed his new name at the end of the list, he wonders.
A sharp whistle breaks the chitchats, causing about a dozen of heads to turn towards the entrance of the gym, where the blonde teacher is looking at the aspirant cheerleaders with a quite cynical face; right behind her there’s the whole cheerleading team, Ashlee in the lead.
“Girls! Come here! In line!” Ms Ivarsson orders, and the girls hurriedly accomplish.
“All right. First of all, you have to know cheerleading isn’t easy, you have to put all your passion and patience and fierce and yourself in this sport. Nobody wants to see a weak and flabby cheerleader. You have to work very hard, so if this scares you, you’re invited to leave.”
All the girls stay. Even Trisha.
The teacher can’t help but smirk a bit evilly. She looks at the lead cheerleader, who smirks back.
“If you’re so sure…Okay! I want you to do a series of exercises, to see your coordination, balance, grace and rhythm. Cassadee, please put some music on.”
A smiling cheerleader heads to the stereo system, playing a mixed CD.
The girls start jumping, flailing their arms, turning, following the rhythm of the music and the teacher’s instructions, spaced by her whistling.
Patrick soon feels his breath shortening, his muscles crying vengeance, but he doesn’t want to give up and show Ms Ivarsson he’s a nit. All his pride has finally kicked in, after the good comeback he received in the music class; he still feels a bit guilty towards Greta, but he’s doing it for her as well…or at least it’s what he’s mentally repeating to convince himself.
The music finally stops, and the teacher invites the girls to breathe and relax before the final part: play the school’s cheer.
Patrick lies on the floor, inspiring deeply from his wide open mouth, sweating too much for his own good and on the verge of fainting. He can hear Katy breathing quite heavily on his side, muttering something that may be the words of the cheer.
Another annoying whistle fills the air, signaling the girls they have to stand up and get ready to be laughed at (that’s how Patrick imagines the whole thing is going to end, at least for him). Luckily Keltie is invited to demonstrate the cheer, allowing the mortals to hope to remember the moves and the words right.
One after the other the girls replay more or less well the cheer, and the most tiring part of this hell is finally over. It’s now the turn to choose who made it, and Ms Ivarsson privately discusses with the other cheerleaders who may be the one, apparently unaffected by the hopeful and nervous glances the other girls shoot at her back.
“We came to a decision: the sixth member of the cheerleading team is…”
Patrick looks around: some girls are hugging each other, others are looking on the verge of crying, others are quietly bracing themselves for whatever their luck is going to be; others, like Katy, have their eyes closed and imperceptibly move their lips in a silent prayer. Patrick is the only one who doesn’t give a fuck…almost: the curiousness has taken the best of him, and he now wants to know if he has been totally bad or not; he tries to repress the tiny hope that wants him to have succeeded.
“…Trisha Stump,” Ivarsson finally says, shooting a fierce glance at the new student.
The other girls politely clap their hands, some of them evidently crying.
“Congratulations,” Katy praises, with a half sincere, half regretful smile, “you made it…You deserve it. See you around,” she says, leaving the gym along with the other rejected girls.
“Thanks,” Patrick says softly, before being surrounded by the regular cheerleaders. He wonders how true their smiles and compliments are.
||next||
pairing: eventually Peterick
pov: 3rd
rating: a general PG-13
summary: Let's have a look at the sophomore year of one Patrick Stumph,who one day wakes up as a girl.
disclaimer: yeah,Patrick is my bestfriendforever and we're here braiding our hair...
A/N1: jsyk the characters post has been updated
A/N2: *sighs* and now it's gonna take me forever to write new chapters...
A/N3: i have no idea how cheerleading auditions are,also because there's no such thing as cheerleaders at school,in my country
||masterpost||
||previous||
The final ring bells, freeing the students for the afternoon.
The doom is soon approaching for Patrick: he signed for the cheerleaders auditions, with much regret now. He’s never felt so nervous before, and the pang of guilt for the misunderstanding-slash-delusion from Greta’s part doesn’t comfort him.
He shuffles his way to the gym once again, where he throws his backpack on the floor and breathes in an attempt to calm the fuck down.
A girl runs in the gym, smiling widely at Patrick.
“Hi, I’m Katy!” she introduces herself, “Are you here for the audition as well?” she chirps, widening her already big blue eyes.
“Y-Yes…Hi, I’m Trisha,” Patrick replies hesitantly.
“I’m so excited, I’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience, and I really admire Ashlee and the others,” she says eagerly.
Patrick cocks an eyebrow, ‘What’s so amazing in a bunch of girls that cheers and show their legs and asses during a match? And what’s so worth of admiration in that bitch of Ashlee?!’ he thinks.
Katy misinterprets Trisha’s doubtful expression, “Sorry, sorry, when I’m agitated I tend to be quite annoying,” she apologizes, thinking the other is irritated because of her.
“Oh! Oh, no, don’t worry, it’s comprehensible…” Patrick reassures her timidly.
Meanwhile other girls have entered the gym, chattering enthusiastically. Patrick is so not in the mood, he’s definitely the black sheep of the group; what the hell possessed him the moment he signed his new name at the end of the list, he wonders.
A sharp whistle breaks the chitchats, causing about a dozen of heads to turn towards the entrance of the gym, where the blonde teacher is looking at the aspirant cheerleaders with a quite cynical face; right behind her there’s the whole cheerleading team, Ashlee in the lead.
“Girls! Come here! In line!” Ms Ivarsson orders, and the girls hurriedly accomplish.
“All right. First of all, you have to know cheerleading isn’t easy, you have to put all your passion and patience and fierce and yourself in this sport. Nobody wants to see a weak and flabby cheerleader. You have to work very hard, so if this scares you, you’re invited to leave.”
All the girls stay. Even Trisha.
The teacher can’t help but smirk a bit evilly. She looks at the lead cheerleader, who smirks back.
“If you’re so sure…Okay! I want you to do a series of exercises, to see your coordination, balance, grace and rhythm. Cassadee, please put some music on.”
A smiling cheerleader heads to the stereo system, playing a mixed CD.
The girls start jumping, flailing their arms, turning, following the rhythm of the music and the teacher’s instructions, spaced by her whistling.
Patrick soon feels his breath shortening, his muscles crying vengeance, but he doesn’t want to give up and show Ms Ivarsson he’s a nit. All his pride has finally kicked in, after the good comeback he received in the music class; he still feels a bit guilty towards Greta, but he’s doing it for her as well…or at least it’s what he’s mentally repeating to convince himself.
The music finally stops, and the teacher invites the girls to breathe and relax before the final part: play the school’s cheer.
Patrick lies on the floor, inspiring deeply from his wide open mouth, sweating too much for his own good and on the verge of fainting. He can hear Katy breathing quite heavily on his side, muttering something that may be the words of the cheer.
Another annoying whistle fills the air, signaling the girls they have to stand up and get ready to be laughed at (that’s how Patrick imagines the whole thing is going to end, at least for him). Luckily Keltie is invited to demonstrate the cheer, allowing the mortals to hope to remember the moves and the words right.
One after the other the girls replay more or less well the cheer, and the most tiring part of this hell is finally over. It’s now the turn to choose who made it, and Ms Ivarsson privately discusses with the other cheerleaders who may be the one, apparently unaffected by the hopeful and nervous glances the other girls shoot at her back.
“We came to a decision: the sixth member of the cheerleading team is…”
Patrick looks around: some girls are hugging each other, others are looking on the verge of crying, others are quietly bracing themselves for whatever their luck is going to be; others, like Katy, have their eyes closed and imperceptibly move their lips in a silent prayer. Patrick is the only one who doesn’t give a fuck…almost: the curiousness has taken the best of him, and he now wants to know if he has been totally bad or not; he tries to repress the tiny hope that wants him to have succeeded.
“…Trisha Stump,” Ivarsson finally says, shooting a fierce glance at the new student.
The other girls politely clap their hands, some of them evidently crying.
“Congratulations,” Katy praises, with a half sincere, half regretful smile, “you made it…You deserve it. See you around,” she says, leaving the gym along with the other rejected girls.
“Thanks,” Patrick says softly, before being surrounded by the regular cheerleaders. He wonders how true their smiles and compliments are.
||next||