The Competition

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Christy Shilling rolled over and squinted at her nightstand for the fifth time. Why hadn’t her alarm clock gone off? She pushed the Kleenex and can of Icy Hot spray out of the way. Still too early, but at least she could get up now. She hadn’t slept more than two hours total, and it wasn’t a good sleep. She’d had constant nightmares of waking up, going to her closet, and finding it wasn’t there. The pain was still so real Christy was afraid to look at her closet door.

But there it was. The plastic dry cleaner’s bag, hanging in front of the mirror, right where her mother had left it. Christy’s heart soared. The Marion J. Fairmont High School cheerleading uniform in that bag was the realization of a dream she’d had since third grade, when the Newport Junior High cheerleading squad came to her school. She’d never forget the moment those girls ran out onto the auditorium floor. Christy had watched in openmouthed awe. Always the smallest in her class, she’d kneeled on her chair to take it all in. And from the very first shout, Christy had known she’d do anything to be one of them.

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