The park was lush and friendly. Paths snaked the grassland like a maze without its walls. Trees were flowering, shading the outdoors workout equipment on which cheerleaders of all sorts were doing pull-ups, chin-ups and even handstands on the parallel bars.
The Gibson sisters got onto a little terraced ridge, three levels above the gaggle of cheerleaders dressed in what Jonatha could only describe as a businesswoman’s cheer uniform.
“Hey, slow down, Jonatha!” Zoey suddenly said. “Mikayla has short legs!”
“I do not!” Mikayla said.
Jonatha blinked, suddenly noticing that he was standing on what looked like an earthen dyke built between two bodies of water. His sisters were a good ten meters behind.
“Sorry!” Jonatha cried, looking a little ashamed.
I am not even breaking a sweat, Jonatha thought as he waited for the two other cheerleaders to catch up.
Playing with the straps of his pink backpack, Jonatha looked over the park. Cheerleaders—tall, short, stocky, lean—were everywhere. Some walked with intent, others ran with purpose. Some were on bicycles. This looked like the pedestrian version of a highway interchange.
Jonatha noted a tree some four terraces down. It was tall and flowering gold. A tingling ran down his spine as he recognized it and the rise it stood on. Jon used to play there as a kid. Get some big leaves, or cardboard, and sleigh down the hill and sometimes smash straight into the brambles. He and Karyn used to rip their clothes so often there and– no, no, that wasn’t right. He used to come here with Karyn to practice their cartwheels and the timing of their moves. Sometimes they would climb on the trees or join other young girls on group runs, cheering each other on, chanting in unison.
Step, step. Forwards go!
No cheerleader falters, no.
Running jogging, forevermore,
Faster, faster, see us soar!
“What was that cheer, Jonatha?” The goth cheerleader’s voice broke Jonatha from her memory.
“Oh, that?” Jonatha ran a hand through her hair, straightening her ponytail. “A little thing from one of my old running groups.”
Suddenly Mikayla strated clapping. “Oh, oh, can we chant it? Can we? Can we?”
Jonatha looked down at Mikayla, who looked cute as a button and with puppy eyes to boot. She turned to Zoey, who shrugged.
“I would rather something… punchier, with more of a prog rock beat but…” Her black lips broke into a knowing smile. “Just hearing you mumble it made me feel so good and, like, I could run forevermore!”
Zoey’s eyes were proud, Jonatha noticed. As if she had something to prove. Something tickled in the back of Jonatha’s mind. This world is… much more different, Jonatha thought.
“Alright, then,” Jonatha said, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling nestling in her mind. “And a one, and a two…”
The three sisters started running in unison, their cheer drowning out all that wasn’t important.
