Free The Cheer Leader by Jill McCorkle

it.
    â€œThis is called ‘Why I Can’t Settle for Just One Man,’” she read and held up a picture for us to see, a woman in a leopard suit with about twenty hands reaching for her. “Jo, who are you looking for?”
    â€œNo one, just wanted to see what Bobby was doing.”
    â€œA likely story.” Tricia sat on her towel and carefully positioned her long, already tan, legs, one knee up and the other leg stretched out model style. “She’s waiting for Pat Reeves to get here.”
    â€œReally, Jo?” Cindy rolled over. Already the freckles were popping out on her nose.
    â€œHell no!” I said, attempting forcefulness, so that they would not start with the Pat Reeves teasing again. They all found it hysterical that Pat Reeves and I had dated for over a year and had never made out, just quick kisses at the door after a date. Lisa enjoyed that subject more than cheerleading. “I told him that I didn’t want to see him anymore.” I hadn’t told him that, yet, but I was going to.
    â€œWhat did he say?” Now, Cindy had her hands cupped over her face to shield the sun.
    â€œHe said that he was relieved that she finally knew that he was a queer.” Lisa shifted around and moved into the center of the group. “Now listen to this, ‘I am a love starved woman.’”
    â€œQuiet,” Tricia hissed. “Don’t read to everyone here.I would die if anyone knew what we were doing!” She slung her head towards the older crew. “They might think we’re serious.”
    â€œIt’s very serious,” Lisa said and continued about this woman who got raped when she was working as a waitress at a truck stop. She did not tell her hayseed fiancé or the police because secretly, it was the most rewarding experience of her life. The scene was vivid with lots of panting and moaning and Lisa was reading more and more dramatically, hand to her chest then a wiggle of the hips.
    â€œThis is really Lisa’s life story.” Tricia flopped back on her forearms and tilted her face directly into the sun.
    â€œDon’t knock it til you’ve tried it,” Lisa said.
    â€œAnd who says I haven’t?” Tricia just smiled and this brought Cindy’s face from beneath her shirt that she had covered up with.
    â€œSo tell it then,” Lisa said. “Was it that jerk you met at the beach? Was it Tom Fulton in the flesh?”
    â€œI better wait for you to get a little older, Lisa.” They bantered back and forth for awhile, bordering on their real true confessions, and then Lisa went back to her reading. The crux of the story was that this lily white totally innocent country bumpkin virgin thoroughly enjoyed the abuse that she received from the dark foreign trucker. I had just lifted my head to ask Lisa to please take a break, when I saw him again. He was walking that time, digging his toes into the sand, and then he turned and entered the water right near where we were. It wasthen that I noticed the hairs on his chest and his legs, noticed that his eyes were brown, that he had a full bottom lip that made him look like he was sulking. There was a moment when he looked directly at me, or I thought he did and it made me look away. Then, in that split second, he was under the water and all I could spot was his bright green bathing suit. Lisa was still reading and I turned back over on my stomach so that I could watch him. He was a graceful swimmer, long steady strokes, his arms clearing the water, his head turning for a breath in perfect rhythm. He was swimming out to the center of the lake to the tower where people went to dive or to escape the crowded piers.
    â€œâ€˜Her breasts exploded, heaving mounds of flesh.’” Lisa thrust out her own and panted. By then, he was at the tower, shaking his head. He sat on the edge with his feet in the water. It looked like he was staring over at our pier and I stared