A Parthan Summer, Julie Steimle [best ereader for pdf TXT] 📗

that jerk back there. You’re not as hot-headed as people think you are.”

Zormna blinked then shrugged again. “What’s the point in satisfying her rude actions by making a scene? She’s just a kid.”

The girls around her stared, since Zormna was only fourteen and all of them were older than her, including the new junior varsity cheerleaders. Michelle Clay sat behind the two girls, followed by Stacey and Jennifer, listening over their shoulders.

Michelle interjected, “I wish her bra would pop off in the middle of a cheer, just as they were tossing her into the air.” 

The girls in her group muffled cackles over that, though Zormna only shook her head.

“Now, quiet down!” Miss Betiford cheerfully called over the chatter of all the cheerleaders on the grassy knoll.

“There are better ways of getting even. Easier, too,” Zormna muttered. She then thought it over, not really caring. “What matters is not getting caught.”

“Zormna!” Joy stared, scandalized.

Miss Betiford’s assistants shushed the crowd, especially trying to make sure the Pennington group and the Monroe group were listening. So far, the chatter continued.

“Are you actually suggesting we pull pranks on Marissa and the Monroe cheerleaders?” Jennifer McCabe gaped at her, actually surprised.

Snorting to herself, a wicked little grin spread on Zormna’s face. She didn’t reply, though. There were a million pranks that could be played on the likes of Marissa as payback. Yet it had been a while since she had messed around like that, as she had been a responsible leader of a district for the greater part of two years, and therefore an example to all those under her. But now…well, she no longer was bound by those constraints —abandoned on Earth practically. And for some satisfyingly naughty reason, Zormna enjoyed that thought. She no longer had to play by her military’s rules of decorum at all. And looking at the other girls with their wide eyes filled with surprise as well as hopeful expectation, she realized that as a teen, irresponsibility was almost expected. She might even earn some respect among the girls who thought her way too perfect.

She just shrugged. Yet her eyes glittered with mischief.

“No way.” Jennifer laughed teasingly. “No way is little miss innocent-and-responsible up to pranks.” 

“Who ever said I was innocent?” Zormna shrugged off-hand.

Joy cringed. “No…”

“We need to start,” Miss Betiford called louder.

But Jennifer grinned and nudged Joy and Stacey. The girls on their team sitting with them giggled.

“This is going to be great,” Michelle said as team captain, owning the situation. “I thought you would go into fits with your I-was-a-responsible-military-kid thing and we-didn’t-do-that-where-I-come-from thing.” Leaning in closer, she asked, “So, you know some good pranks?”

Joy clutched her head, not exactly upset or angry, but dismayed to see Zormna reply so easily.

“Maybe I know a thing or two. After all, it can get boring in a military school. Somebody has to make it interesting.”

Giddy, Stacey leaned in closer. “I bet lover boy would even agree to that, huh?”

Zormna scowled at her and scooted away “Would you knock that off already!”

Miss Betiford blew her whistle.

All conversation stopped. Everyone lifted her eyes to the front.

“That’s better.” Miss Betiford clasped her hands together, and said with a stewardess-like hello: “Now ladies, I am so glad you all came to camp. It shows me how serious you are about cheerleading. Your job is very important as cheerleaders of your school. It is so important for you to bring school spirit and joy of clean competition to your high school games—” a remark that got a few eye-rolls from the Monroe and Pennington girls who shared looks “—You help the crowds help their teams keep up their spirit so that they can play well. Your schools depend on you. You give energy and life to the games. You bring happiness and joy to the players. And you brighten up the field as leaders to your classmates….”

And she went on and on, going bubblier and bubblier with a perfect grin of straight teeth and a high-pitched stewardess-like animation. Some of the girls listened with nods, holding vapid but eager smiles while believing every word. But Zormna noticed in her own boredom that she wasn’t the only one smirking and side-glancing to her teammates. Frankly, this side of Miss Betiford made her look incurably cheerful—which Zormna found annoying. The woman had seemed smarter to her before lunch.

“…So, girls, welcome to the cheer section of camp. Now I know some of you are also enrolled in the gymnastics section,” Miss Betiford said, nodding to Zormna, and a few others. “Special accommodations have been made for you so you can attend most of your activities. As for the rest of you, captains will need to keep the following girls posted: Amy Fields and Becky Gallagher from Harvest High, Tammy Tome from Billsburg, and Martha Summers, Teresa and Tamra Fleck from Monroe High, and Zormna Clendar from Pennington High.”

Michelle Clay nodded as if she had just been given a solemn charge. Marissa also nodded. Apparently she was the Monroe captain.

Amy Fields, a pretty blonde with long straight hair, raised her hand.

“Miss Betiford, I am the team captain.” Amy said it with a blank blink of her eyes, which made Zormna want to gag. Girls who pretended to be stupid for the boys always made her ill—but she felt even more ill when they acted that way in front of other girls.

“Don’t worry, Amy,” one of her team members said, behaving just as ditzy. “We’ll wait for you.” 

Zormna blinked out the image from her head and glanced to Joy who struggling not to cringe. Though Joy was the cheerful sort, she wasn’t dumb about it.

“Well then, I think we’re ready to start now.” Miss Betiford smiled. Then she went into yet another lecture. This time it was about teamwork. It was so much like the introductory speech that Zormna zoned it out again.  

Staring off at the cool clear lake and open sky above the trees, she let the scenery swallow up her thoughts again—after all, it was not like she would be there forever. She had to enjoy it while she could. The two gradual blue shades divided by the spiky green treetops and reflection, met at the horizon as if it were a fold in paper. The sheer amount of deep green that surrounded her was enough to hypnotize her. It was like stepping into a fantasy. She could almost believe in dragons and magic from all those cartoons she had watched with Mindy and Andrew McLenna. It seemed, staring at it, that the impossible could become possible here.

Zormna then let her eyes wander across the grassy fields. She listened to the wind blow away the words of the cheer coach while she gazed over the rest of the campground. Not far from where the cheerleaders were sitting on the grassy lawn, in the lower part of the grass to the north of them and nearer to the shore, she found the karate group listening to their instructor. His words didn’t travel, though.

The group of twenty or thirty boys and girls of various heights, sizes, and ethnicities stood in orderly rows, following the lead of the adult in charge. All of them were currently squatting with their feet apart and their arms pulled to their sides, bent at the elbows. Their fists were clenched, as if ready to punch. She watched them go through their paces, all of them diligently matching the instructor’s moves.

Zormna hardly noticed the when girls around her rose to their feet. She only got to her feet because she could no longer see the group below. When her team walked from their spaces on the grass, Zormna robotically followed them, yet still kept her eye on the karate team down the hill.

As she watched, Zormna finally noticed that the people in those ‘pajamas’ were divided by skill, marked by the color of their belts. They split off after the first set of exercises, the advanced group gathering nearest to the cheerleaders. They practiced kicks first, kicking low then high into the air, doing it rhythmically, followed by many other synchronized moves Zormna was not familiar with. Not the way they held their hands and feet at least. It was not the style of martial art she had studied as a child, and that fascinated her.

Most of these kids, Zormna realized after a bit of watching, were beginners. A handful were what Zormna would call fair, though not skilled. But one particular girl, a tall brunette, was especially good. She had balance, form, and style. Zormna noticed that she wore a black colored belt, which she assumed meant the girl was at a superior level. Of course, through all this, itching in the back of her head was the main question: How did this martial arts style compare to what she had learned?

After a while of watching them, another question emerged: Was this martial arts used only for show, or did it have practical application? She hadn’t seen any sparring yet—but that really didn’t mean anything. In her own childhood instruction, sparring was saved for after they mastered all the drills in strength training.

Glancing at the brown haired girl again, she wondered once more how compatible their fighting ability would be. If they sparred, who would come out better? After all, that brown haired girl took the martial art with ease and experience. She was—

“Zormna! Aren’t you listening?” Michelle Clay shouted at her.

Zormna snapped back into the present reality. She was at cheer camp. She was a cheerleader. The whole point in coming there was to ingratiate herself with her teammates, learn new and better cheers so she could play the part as a cheerleader, and get out of the hair of the McLennas. Safety in numbers.

All the girls stared at her.

Zormna glanced back at the karate group she had been watching. A few of them also peeked up the hill at her. Joy walked over and peered in the same direction, lifting her eyebrows.

“Oh, Harvest,” Joy said, and grimaced. “Really Zormna, you have to pay attention or Michelle will have a cow.” 

Turning to follow, Zormna tugged on Joy’s arm before leaving entirely, asking what she really wanted to know. “Who is that girl?”

Joy peered down the hill again. “Which one?”

Pointing, Zormna said, “The brunette in the white pajama suit with that strange red dot painted on her back. The one wearing a black sash around her waist.”

Joy laughed. “Pajama suit. That’s cute. You should tell them that.”

Stacey walked up impatiently. “Hurry up, Zormna, we’re waiting.”

“But who is she?” Zormna ignored Stacey.

Joy squinted then peered carefully. She shook her head. “No clue. We don’t exactly know everybody at the other schools, you know.”

Dragging Zormna behind her, Joy returned to their team. Reluctantly Zormna joined the waiting cheerleaders. They had already divided back into schools, with varsity and jr. varsity separated. Each had taken a different spot on the lawn. When she took her place within the group, Michelle lectured them on what she had planned for the next year. “Now, we’re having competitions at the end of the month, so don’t blow this for me.”

Some of the girls made faces. Michelle had a way of ‘owning’ everything—as she was captain. She saw their success as hers and took personal pride in how she ‘molded their raw ability’—which generally did not bother Zormna who had been the equivalent to a captain once and understood how it could go to a person’s head. Though, Michelle took it to a snotty level.

However, they went directly into formation for the new cheer Michelle had come up with before camp. It was actually a well thought out cheer with impressive stunts. But it wasn’t really that much newer than their former cheers. Everything had to have a pirate theme, after all.

Michelle walked them through the steps and directed who would go where. Then for the following hour, they worked on executing it. She had actually come up with three routines. One was to the beat of a popular song,