We've Got Spirit, Yes We Do
Posted: Sun Aug 09, 2009 9:58 am
[[Evelyn Reed continued from Talk Shows on Mute]]
The rubber soles of her cheer shoes squeaked against the varnished wooden floor as Evelyn stalked into the gym. Nothing about today had gone right. It had been an absolute disaster from the get-go. Her alarm hadn't gone off, making her rush around to get to school on time. She'd forgotten her wallet AND her lunch in her haste, so she'd had nothing to eat since last night. There'd been a pop quiz in math AND in government. She'd broken not one but TWO nails. And to top it all off, she had the beginnings of a wicked headache pounding in her temples. Oh My GAWD, I would kill for a Starbucks Caramel Frappuccino right now. Or even better, some chocolate.
Dropping her gear bag onto one of the bleachers, she looked around for any signs of her squad-mates. Finding nothing, she peeled off her warm-up jacket, wadded it up in her hands, and threw it down next to her bag with a snort of disgust. I cannot BELIEVE those heifers. I am the only one here on time?! SERIOUSLY?! Evelyn stomped her foot and let out a little squeal of rage. You know what? Fuck it. Seriously, fuck it and fuck them! Just because none of those sloppy, lazy, cellulite-encrusted bitches takes this seriously anymore doesn't mean that I won't.
Rolling her eyes, Evelyn sat down the floor and began her warm-up stretches. "They better show up or I'm gonna cut a bitch, I swear," she muttered darkly.
The rubber soles of her cheer shoes squeaked against the varnished wooden floor as Evelyn stalked into the gym. Nothing about today had gone right. It had been an absolute disaster from the get-go. Her alarm hadn't gone off, making her rush around to get to school on time. She'd forgotten her wallet AND her lunch in her haste, so she'd had nothing to eat since last night. There'd been a pop quiz in math AND in government. She'd broken not one but TWO nails. And to top it all off, she had the beginnings of a wicked headache pounding in her temples. Oh My GAWD, I would kill for a Starbucks Caramel Frappuccino right now. Or even better, some chocolate.
Dropping her gear bag onto one of the bleachers, she looked around for any signs of her squad-mates. Finding nothing, she peeled off her warm-up jacket, wadded it up in her hands, and threw it down next to her bag with a snort of disgust. I cannot BELIEVE those heifers. I am the only one here on time?! SERIOUSLY?! Evelyn stomped her foot and let out a little squeal of rage. You know what? Fuck it. Seriously, fuck it and fuck them! Just because none of those sloppy, lazy, cellulite-encrusted bitches takes this seriously anymore doesn't mean that I won't.
Rolling her eyes, Evelyn sat down the floor and began her warm-up stretches. "They better show up or I'm gonna cut a bitch, I swear," she muttered darkly.