somehow.
I breathe slowly. Get my bearings.
“Let go of her,” Greg says, towering over us.
J.D. let’s go of my wrist. Greg yanks me behind him for protection, but I stumble, still disoriented, and lean against the metal lockers for support.
Greg shoves J.D. against the wall. J.D. shoves back and slams his forearm against Greg’s throat.
“Knock it off!” Mr. Cooper rushes down the hall.
J.D. releases Greg, who pumps his fists in a threatening gesture.
“Do it and I’ll report you to Coach Snyder,” Cooper says.
Greg hesitates and glares at Mr. Cooper. Football is Greg’s life and his only chance at getting into college.
“Come on, Catherine.” Greg picks up his backpack.
I grab mine, but don’t look at J.D. I’m ashamed, upset.
Scared as hell. For me? For him? I’m so messed up.
Mr. Cooper heads back into his room.
“Prick,” Greg mutters.
“Takes one to know one,” J.D. says.
Without warning Greg swings his 20-pound backpack at J.D. and nails him the stomach. J.D. doubles over. I should enjoy this, I really should.
“Let’s go.” I grab Greg’s arm, feeling the tension there.
Muscles taut, Greg towers over J.D. He’s going to hit him or kick him or do something incredibly brutal. I can feel it. “Fine, get kicked off the football team.” I turn and storm away. I hope, hope, hope he follows me.
I feel sick and confused, not to mention frustrated as hell. The HULU’s send me spinning into freak-O land, away from reality and my goal of getting my life back. They need to stop. Maybe it’s worth a trip to the doctor. Ask for more meds, or different meds. Stronger meds.
Meet Catherine, the zombie cheerleader .
I focus on the positive. I made it through my first full day. There was a time they didn’t think I’d be able to go back to school at all.
Situation normal. Everything under control. No one knows I’m the freak hallucinator. Sounds like a military weapon.
“Hang on, Catherine.” Greg catches up to me. “Sorry. Pratt makes me a little nuts.”
“Join the club. He makes me a lotta nuts.”
It’s like J.D. knows something about me, my secret. No, I’m being paranoid. Time to refocus and get to Cheer practice.
Time to be me again.
“Here are the notes.” Greg hands me the copies.
“Awesome, thanks.”
“So, you wanna go to Andrew’s party with me Saturday?”
We’ve reached the locker room doorway. I stop and smile at him, but something feels off, probably residual effects from the HULU.
“That would be awesome.” I hug him. Closing my eyes, I ignore the prickly sensation running down my arms.
“You guys are so cute,” Taylor says, skipping up to us. “But we’re late, come on.”
She pulls me away from Greg.
“See ya!” I say.
Other than a few speed bumps, I’m on my way.
I’m off to Cheer practice.
Greg officially asked me out.
I’ve got not one, but two note takers.
I’m back!
As a squeak of joy rises in my throat, I glance down the hall. I spot J.D. sliding down the wall, his arm clutched against his stomach, his eyes pinched shut.
I should feel victorious. My almost boyfriend took out my enemy, the bane of my existence.
Yet tears sting my eyes.
“You okay?” Taylor asks. She lets go of me like I might be contagious.
“Allergies,” I explain.
Yeah, I’m allergic to my life.
Chapter Seven
Taylor drops me off at home after Cheer. Without a doctor’s release, Miss Harris doesn’t let me work out but she asked me to help create the routines. We tossed ideas back and forth. I wrote them down and repeated them back, which seemed to work for her.
It’s probably a good thing I didn’t attempt a routine. My coordination isn’t exactly 100%. I just need a few more weeks. I sense I’m close to a breakthrough.
As I breeze up the walkway to my house I spot a brown paper bag on the front porch. Hoping it’s from Greg, I snatch it and peek inside.
I pull out the notes J.D. tried to give me earlier along
I breathe slowly. Get my bearings.
“Let go of her,” Greg says, towering over us.
J.D. let’s go of my wrist. Greg yanks me behind him for protection, but I stumble, still disoriented, and lean against the metal lockers for support.
Greg shoves J.D. against the wall. J.D. shoves back and slams his forearm against Greg’s throat.
“Knock it off!” Mr. Cooper rushes down the hall.
J.D. releases Greg, who pumps his fists in a threatening gesture.
“Do it and I’ll report you to Coach Snyder,” Cooper says.
Greg hesitates and glares at Mr. Cooper. Football is Greg’s life and his only chance at getting into college.
“Come on, Catherine.” Greg picks up his backpack.
I grab mine, but don’t look at J.D. I’m ashamed, upset.
Scared as hell. For me? For him? I’m so messed up.
Mr. Cooper heads back into his room.
“Prick,” Greg mutters.
“Takes one to know one,” J.D. says.
Without warning Greg swings his 20-pound backpack at J.D. and nails him the stomach. J.D. doubles over. I should enjoy this, I really should.
“Let’s go.” I grab Greg’s arm, feeling the tension there.
Muscles taut, Greg towers over J.D. He’s going to hit him or kick him or do something incredibly brutal. I can feel it. “Fine, get kicked off the football team.” I turn and storm away. I hope, hope, hope he follows me.
I feel sick and confused, not to mention frustrated as hell. The HULU’s send me spinning into freak-O land, away from reality and my goal of getting my life back. They need to stop. Maybe it’s worth a trip to the doctor. Ask for more meds, or different meds. Stronger meds.
Meet Catherine, the zombie cheerleader .
I focus on the positive. I made it through my first full day. There was a time they didn’t think I’d be able to go back to school at all.
Situation normal. Everything under control. No one knows I’m the freak hallucinator. Sounds like a military weapon.
“Hang on, Catherine.” Greg catches up to me. “Sorry. Pratt makes me a little nuts.”
“Join the club. He makes me a lotta nuts.”
It’s like J.D. knows something about me, my secret. No, I’m being paranoid. Time to refocus and get to Cheer practice.
Time to be me again.
“Here are the notes.” Greg hands me the copies.
“Awesome, thanks.”
“So, you wanna go to Andrew’s party with me Saturday?”
We’ve reached the locker room doorway. I stop and smile at him, but something feels off, probably residual effects from the HULU.
“That would be awesome.” I hug him. Closing my eyes, I ignore the prickly sensation running down my arms.
“You guys are so cute,” Taylor says, skipping up to us. “But we’re late, come on.”
She pulls me away from Greg.
“See ya!” I say.
Other than a few speed bumps, I’m on my way.
I’m off to Cheer practice.
Greg officially asked me out.
I’ve got not one, but two note takers.
I’m back!
As a squeak of joy rises in my throat, I glance down the hall. I spot J.D. sliding down the wall, his arm clutched against his stomach, his eyes pinched shut.
I should feel victorious. My almost boyfriend took out my enemy, the bane of my existence.
Yet tears sting my eyes.
“You okay?” Taylor asks. She lets go of me like I might be contagious.
“Allergies,” I explain.
Yeah, I’m allergic to my life.
Chapter Seven
Taylor drops me off at home after Cheer. Without a doctor’s release, Miss Harris doesn’t let me work out but she asked me to help create the routines. We tossed ideas back and forth. I wrote them down and repeated them back, which seemed to work for her.
It’s probably a good thing I didn’t attempt a routine. My coordination isn’t exactly 100%. I just need a few more weeks. I sense I’m close to a breakthrough.
As I breeze up the walkway to my house I spot a brown paper bag on the front porch. Hoping it’s from Greg, I snatch it and peek inside.
I pull out the notes J.D. tried to give me earlier along
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