Free Halifax by Leigh Dunlap

celebration of human emotion in the books, however, was neatly tucked into rows and Dewey-decimalized into submission. Just like Rom.
* * *
    “Welcome, everyone, to the final game of the fall tournament,” Principal Whitaker said loudly through his microphone as he addressed a gymnasium packed with students from rival schools ready for a basketball showdown. He was awkward when it came to public speaking but was doing his best to sound enthusiastic. “I know the players from both teams are going to be thrilled to see so many fans here today. So let’s get this show on the road and bring out the boys. First, the Lions from Westminster!”
    The students broke out into a mixture of cheers from the visiting fans and “boos” from the Lexham students as the Westminster Lions basketball team ran out onto the court in their green and white uniforms. They were led by a back-flipping student dressed in a furry lion costume complete with pointy lion ears. He wore a Westminster basketball jersey and was surrounded by six attractive cheerleaders furiously waving their green and white pom-poms.
    Principal Whitaker stood in the middle of the mayhem and took to his microphone again. “And now our home court heroes, sixteen time division champions and three time state champions, your very own LEXHAM NIMRODS!”
    Rafter-rattling music played and the Lexham faithful roared with approval as the varsity basketball squad took to the court. Their own mascot, a boy dressed up as the mighty hunter, Nimrod, from the Book of Genesis, led the way. He fired off nerf arrows into the crowd as Andre Davies, waving to the students like a rock star, brought the team out. Farrell brought up the rear, laughing to himself that he was not just watching this spectacle; he was actually a part of it.
    Farrell may have been in a basketball uniform but suddenly, as the Lexham cheerleaders made their way onto the court, the game was the last thing on his mind. He was fixated on them and it wasn’t because their skirts were shorter than those of the Westminster cheerleaders.
    Led onto the court by the tumbling, whooping and hollering Shana Rowen, the Lexham cheerleaders now numbered over twenty. Twenty plus scarily enthusiastic cheerleaders took over the floor, waving their blue and red pom-poms and dancing in unison to the beat of the music.
    The squad now included a number of surprise recruits. Executing a split in the center of the court was none other than Izzy’s friend, Carolyn Holcomb. She was now totally stripped of any signs of individuality. She was groomed and highlighted and powder-puffed and almost indistinguishable from the rest of the cheerleaders.
    Standing out, literally, from the others, was the Tall Girl from Rom’s math class. She showed no signs of trauma from her mysterious meeting with someone or something in the janitor’s closet. If anything, she looked better than she did before. Polished, pink and perfect.
    Farrell looked at the all the cheerleaders and at his favorite cheerleader in particular, Nora Evans. The rest of the squad surrounded her as they began a routine and Farrell lost sight of her in a sea of pom-poms. She was the eye of a cheerleading hurricane.
    Farrell wasn’t the only one taken aback by the sheer number of cheerleaders or by the newest additions to the squad. Coach Gwynn barely had time to get out of the way before his former point guard, Jon Roberts, came cartwheeling across the court. He was dressed in a Lexham yell leader uniform with stretchy tight white pants and a comfy white turtleneck sweater that his athletically large neck strained beneath. He held a megaphone with a large red
L
on the side and excitedly worked the crowd, encouraging them to cheer.
    Coach Gwynn approached Jon, examining him carefully, almost reaching out to touch him to see if he was for real. “Roberts? What are you doing? And what are you wearing?”
    “Hey, Coach,” Jon said chirpily. “I’m a yell leader now. Isn’t it