[Link to Chapter 1 (Beginning of Book)]
[Link to Chapter 8 (Previous Chapter)]
“Sibbie’s group is up next,” Phillip says, already fishing his gigantic Android phone from his pocket.
“Good. I’ll probably head out after she performs,” I say.
“Trouble in paradise?” he quips, fiddling with his phone screen.
“Something like that,” I say with a smirk.
The truth is, I just want to leave. This whole experience has been disturbing. ‘Sibbie,’ short for Cybil, is my best friend’s daughter. She’s six. And she’s big into ‘Cheer’. Or more accurately, her mom is. And she’s a good kid who’ll do anything to please her mean-ass mother.
My high school had multiple cheerleading teams. Back then, cheerleading was about traveling to games with the football team and band and leading cheers, as the name implies. Their responsibilities also included performing dance routines during pep rallies and other school activities.
This was before ‘Cheer’ became its own phenomenon, with stand-alone cheer teams doing dance choreography while performing cheerleader-style stunts.
“Funny story. Do you remember Jennifer?” I ask Phil.
“Rat girl?” he questions.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say jokingly. “Events like this remind me of her.”
“Why? Oh, wait a minute. Here comes Sib now!” Phillip orients his phone, presses the record button, and begins to watch his daughter on a screen instead of with his eyes.
Little-kid dance shows are supposed to be cute. Like awkward dolls fumbling around in ballet clothes.
Instead, I’ve spent hours in an auditorium full of sexualized minor children with skin-tight outfits and skirts shorter than my hair performing provocative dance moves, complete with hip-swiveling and rolling around on the floor in stripper poses. Groups of girls, and currently groups of six-year-olds who have no idea what sex is, keep putting on mixtures of hip-hop and strip-club dance routines concocted by their middle-aged coaches who apparently think childhood is a Vegas audition. Every time a group gets to the part of their choreography where they do the hip-swivel, the older girls in the room whoop and cheer louder. These little kids have no idea why that part is special, but they know those are the moves everyone cheers for.
I have no idea how this is a thing. I need a drink. Thank God my own kid never wanted to do this shit.