Four girls down, one to go. Sarah waved her hand at Karyn. "What is your truth, Karyn? What is stopping you from becoming a cheerleader?"
Karyn glared. "Fuck you, Sarah."
Learning that Michelle was a Russian spy was a shock, and a difficult hurdle to overcome. But hostility from Karyn Black? Par for the course. "I'm sorry," Sarah smiled calmly. "But that doesn't quite answer my question."
"Yes, it does." Karyn stood up from her beanbag and took a step forward. "I am not a cheerleader because fuck you, Sarah."
Unfazed, Sarah held her ground. "I think I need a little more explanation than that."
"Oh, of course you do," the blood was rising to Karyn's cheeks. "And you always get everything that you want, don't you. Everyone does what you say, don't they. This is just another extension of the great machine that is Sarah McMillan, puppetmaster of Lake Point High School. You tell everyone what to do, and they just do it, right? Well, that's not me, and that will never be me. I'm not going to be a part of anything, anything where you, of all people, get to tell me what to do, as long as I have even a sliver of strength to fight it."
"Okay." Sarah's smile remained as she stepped around Karyn and took a seat on the bean bag that the other girl had just vacated.
Karyn felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath her. "What?" Her anger disappeared in an instant, replaced by confusion as the wind dropped from her sails.
"You're in charge of tonight, Karyn." Sarah's smile shifted to match the blank expressions of the four girls beside her. "You are the host. I am the guest. What you say goes. You have free reign to use anything in this room-- no, anything in this house as you wish, for as long as you are serving as host. And all of your guests must do as you say."
"What?"
"If I'm not in charge of you, then you don't have any reason not to be a cheerleader, right?" Sarah's voice was a deadpan.
Karyn could feel she was being tricked, but couldn't figure out how.
"So you're in charge. Just snap your fingers, and all five of your guests will wake up, eager to follow all of your plans for the night."
"Why would you just all of a sudden listen to me?"
"Because I'm a cheerleader. And you are in charge of me."
And if Karyn was in charge of the cheerleaders...
snap
Where had that sound come from? Karyn looked down at her own hand in mild surprise. Had she just snapped her fingers? She looked back up at her guests to see five eager, animated faces.
Gladys Brewer: easily the fittest and bustiest girl in the school.
Emma Frye: vlogger, influencer, and minor media empress.
Andi Litwak: disgruntled daughter whose refuge from her parents was cheer.
Michelle Winslow: Russian sp-- no, where had that thought come from? Michelle Winslow: the ultimate all-American girl.
And finally, at the end of the line, was Sarah McMillan. Karyn wasn't sure she could fully trust Sarah. But the girl would do anything Karyn told her. Because Karyn was...
The thought wouldn't complete itself. Karyn was something. She held some position. But the word wouldn't form itself in her mind.
She was in charge. That's all that mattered. With a turn of her head, Karyn scanned the bedroom and her eyes locked on the doors to a massive walk-in closet.
"Girls," she announced, "the first order of business for our sleepover tonight, is a round of dress-up."
Then she marched straight for the closet, not even turning to check if she was being followed. She knew that she was being followed by all of her guests. Because they were cheerleaders. And she was in charge.
Because Karyn was the head cheerleader.
