Interschool Day, Part One

That tantalizing cheer-routine...! My mind was spinning with Anna's marble-white legs, several shades lighter than those of any other girl, not to mention her vivid red hair or her vivid red underwear, both of which took your breath away. The cheerleader who was happy to flaunt like that never quite seemed to sit alongside that other Anna, the one who made every boy know she was waiting. It made the waiting worse for us, when we had to see so much of what we wanted. That was why I was sometimes sure she did it on purpose.

Afterwards I didn't even waste time changing, but flurried out of the sports hall in my PE kit to try and catch up with Anna. She'd switched to her tight black shorts and was striding to the bike-sheds. The silliness of the cycle-helmet she already had on didn't stop every boy's gaze from following her, and mine was pinned on her butt in a state close to distraction.

Panting and hot I caught up with her just as she was wheeling her bike out. She walked straight past without looking at me.

"Anna!" I gasped.

She flicked her foxy hair and glanced over her shoulder, lips parted, to survey me as I gawped at her.

"What is it now?" she demanded.

Quick as could be I dipped her a shy curtsey. She kicked her leg over the saddle and my heart skipped a beat - had I just seen her white panties up her shorts-leg? Was that even possible in shorts that tight?

She glared down at me, waiting impatiently.

"Um, Anna," I burbled, "you know I've got a big game coming up, so would it be possible for us to train together some time?"

"I'm busy with cheer-practice," Anna rapped out at once.

"Yes and you'll be cheering for us at Interschools Day too," I reminded her artfully. "So, you might say helping me train would be showing the same sort of school spirit!"

She rolled her eyes, but grudgingly conceded and said OK.

I should have quit while I was ahead, but you know me! "And then afterwards," I blurted on breathily, "we could maybe spend a bit of time together and - "

This exhausted what little patience Anna had ever had. She swung out her sneakered foot from above and booted me, so I splatted straight into a wet muddy patch underpants-first.

"See you at practice," she said smoothly, and cycled away.

I'd heard that with a plain-speaking girl like Anna you could at least be a bit more open with her yourself, but that didn't explain why I felt so timid tiptoeing to join her on the court in my sneakers, fingers restless in the folds of my PE petticoat.

I curtsied to her, blushing, and as usual she didn't bother curtseying back. We began to practice. It was my job to try and catch ball after ball from the machine which fired them, while she was going to run in front of me and jump to intercept. Very quickly this turned into the most maddening session of my life, because I just couldn't get it right. Every time I told myself, this time...! But just as the ball seemed to be dropping to my fingertips, Anna's perfect bum in those tight black gym shorts would bounce in my face and I'd be denied yet again.

"Are you sure you're ready to represent the school?" she asked me very dubiously when we took a break.

I flushed. In fact I'd been having that exact same doubt since we started, but I sure wasn't going to let her know!

"You don't have to catch it every single time, just because you can," I told her rather pettishly.

"Do you think the girl you'll play at Interschools is going to look at it that way?" Anna inquired.

I blushed again. "Well, it's just that you're really good at this," I objected limply. "Guess the cheering's just a sideline, then?"

"No, I'm a cheer," she replied seriously. "This is actually the first time I've ever played netball."

Somehow I found that hard to believe! "You're teasing me," I exclaimed.

In reply she merely told me she was ready to go again. I blustered back: "Then give me a chance this time, please!"

She said she would. When we went back on court and Anna wasn't looking I thrust both thumbs up my silly skirt, because my silly stretchy underpants were slipping up. I hiked them out and then held them there, with determination, my lips pressed together. This time. If she really was going to give me a chance, I was so going to do it!

But right away it was her bum in my face just like before, and again she caught the ball before I could!

"Er, that was me giving you a chance," she declared, mirthless and sounding more dubious than ever about my prospects on Saturday.

END OF PART ONE