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  • Two Cheerleaders, One Tight Spot

Two Cheerleaders, One Tight Spot

12

This is a sequel to my story 'Two Cheerleaders, One Footboy' that I wrote after popular demand. A lot of context in this story cannot be understood unless you've read the first story. If you have not already, please take a look at 'Two Cheerleaders, One Footboy' to get a better idea of who these characters are and how they got in this messy situation. Enjoy!

*****

October 4th, 7:14 a.m.

I was woken up by a chime my phone produces when I get a text. My tired, groggy mind chose to dismiss reading the text, as Saturday was my sleep-in day. Just as I readjust myself under the cozy covers, yet another chime sounds. Usually, this meant someone texted me a big message that had to be broken down into several texts, due to character limits per message. The theory seemed confirmed when my phone went off for a third time in a row.

Reluctantly, I turned my body towards my nightstand, my fingers stumbling for the phone. Last night antics had proved tiring, and I feel asleep mere moments after my head hit the pillow. Rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes, I opened up my phone to see who on Earth would be texting this early on a Saturday morning.

Whoever it was, the number wasn't in my contacts. Their area code was local, but the other digits weren't familiar to me. Of course, the only numbers I had memorized anymore were family, Walker, my manager at the bakery I worked the past two summers, and a few other friends. I opened my text box and sure enough, these were the only messages in a thread:

"Good morning Brea. Hope you slept well, considering what you went through last night. Yes, I heard it all last night, after I followed you."

"I recorded all the sounds you, Walker and your cousin made, and I could release if you'd like. Or, you and Walker can do what I ask."

"Text me when you're up. If I don't hear back from you before eleven, I'll share this all over Facebook and with the school."

That certainly woke up every part of my young body. Someone was threatening me, much like how I'd done so with my cousin. I wasn't sure how they got my number, but I didn't appreciate being talked to like this.

I texted the unknown person back. "Who is this?"

It took less than a minute for a reply. "That's not important yet. Do as I ask, and you won't be in trouble, like I'm sure Walker wouldn't want to be."

They made a fair point in regards to Walker. She was on the homecoming court, and many people thought she had homecoming queen in the bag. Walker seemingly had everything she needed to do so; looks, popularity, and respect from the teachers. All of that could be taken away, if what happened last night was revealed.

"So much for nothing to worry about," I said aloud to myself.

"What do you want?" I sent quickly.

"For you both to meet me @ Morgan's Salon at 3. Tell you the rest in person," they responded.

Morgan's Salon was a fancy place on the other side of town. My mom went there all the time for pedis and to have her hair done. Most likely, this person was a fellow student that was having the same done for the dance at 7. A few names came to mind, but I had something more important to focus on.

I exited out of my messages and called up Walker. A few beeps later, she picked up.

"Hey cutie, what's up?" Walker greeted in a flirtatious tone.

"Walker, someone's on to us," I croaked.

A moment of silence told me she was taken back. It sounded as though she were shaking her head, before she answered back. "How do you know?"

"They texted me just now," I explained. "They recorded us last night, and they're threatening to give it to the school if we don't meet them at Morgan's at 3."

"Morgan Hennessy?" Walker questioned.

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "No, but I wish I knew who it was. Morgan's Salon on Main Street."

"Ohhhh, so this person is a chick huh?" Walker understood. "Wait, did you notice anyone following us last night?"

"No, but I wasn't exactly paying attention," I admitted. "How about you?"

"Nah, I was a bit occupied thinking about that sexy cousin of yours," she joked. "Lawd, is he a breath of fresh air in my love life."

"Would you stop it?!" I demanded. "We could be in serious trouble right now."

Walker sighed into the phone. "Relax Brea-Bear. This person probably is bluffing. Even if they did have a recording, what could they possibly make us do for it? Their homework? Give them money we don't have? Clean their room?"

"Make you forfeit the homecoming crown to them??" I suggested.

That got Walker's goat. "Holy shit, you're totally right!" she gasped. "This bitch wants my damn crown!"

"Stop swearing!" I said. "Honestly Georgina Marie, losing a homecoming crown isn't that big of a deal."

"Like you'd know, Brea Rebecca!" Walker shot back. "You didn't get a single damn vote for homecoming queen, and you're a cheerleader."

That stung a little, but I stood my ground. "Would you want to lose it this way?

Walker seemingly calmed down, then considered it. "You're right Brea. I'm sorry about what I just said. You're way too gorgeous and nice not to be on the homecoming court," she apologized.

I smirked. "I think Jensen would have to disagree with you on that one."

She giggled. "I think he had a blast, to be honest." Another pause followed, as Walker thought this through. "No harm in meeting with however this is. I have to get ready for the crowning ceremony at 4, but I'll be ready at 2:45 if you can pick me up."

"Sure thing baby girl," I assured her. "Get all dolled up, and I'll be there around that time. Bye."

"And Brea...," Walker caught me before hanging up. "...I'm glad you're my best friend."

"And I'm glad you're mine," I confessed, making a kissing sound through the phone.

I ended the call and hopped out of bed. Slipping my feet into fuzzy slippers, I made the trek towards the nearest bathroom. Today was going to be a long day, so a nice shower to start it off was certainly called for.

October 4th, 2:59 p.m.

As I pulled into the lot of Morgan's Salon, I was surprised to see very few cars parked in front of the popular beauty destination. Surprised, but also rather grateful. Whatever was in store for us, I didn't want to make it a public spectacle. I put my silver Honda into park and killed the engines.

Walker was sitting in the front passenger seat, already dressed for tonight. Her stunning, low-cut dark blue dress was partially covered by her jacket, also wearing uggs on her feet instead of the heels I picked out for her while homecoming shopping two weeks ago. She'd just finished applying her makeup on when I'd arrived to pick her up, her eyes shadowed in a similar color to her dress and her drop-dead gorgeous lashes sky high. Those same eyes conveyed a look of worry, just as mine did.

"Walker, let's go in," I tried to sound brave.

All she did was smile as she opened her door and got out of the car. We walked inside, me holding the door for her. The lobby was empty, as we had seen from the outside. Katy Perry music was quietly playing on speakers in the corner, the only other sound was the door ringing to announce our arrival.

We weren't alone for long, as a receptionist came from the around to greet us. Right off the bat, I knew she looked familiar. The same must have been said for us, as her friendly, warm face suddenly turned cold upon seeing Walker and I.

"She's in the back," the receptionist said. "If you'd follow me."

With little choice, we walked behind her as she lead us back to a row of hair styling stations. Only one of them, way far in the back, was occupied. I took another look at the woman's face, completely sure I'd seen her before. When realization hit me regarding her identity, we were already standing in front of the girl in the chair.

"Brea, Walker, so nice of you to come!" the girl greeted us mockingly. "Of course, saying no would have been stupid, even for you."

The receptionist turned the chair towards the two of us. Sitting there grinning was Carrie, a fellow cheerleader at our school. We'd encountered her the previous night, as she overheard part of what we were saying about Jensen. Neither of us were too shocked either, having already considered the identity of the bitch twisting our arms on our way up. The receptionist was her older sister, who had been a few grades above us.

Carrie's chestnut hair was covered in a towel, obviously in the middle of having it done for the dance. She was dressed in a cheerleading t-shirt, comfy pants, and keds, much like I still was. That smug look on her face accentuated she'd had her eyebrows done and face deep cleaned. I looked at her fingernails, noticing they were done in a firetruck red color. Carrie apparently was taking her senior homecoming as seriously as some students did their senior prom.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you to come," Carrie said.

"Not like you gave us much of a choice," Walker muttered.

"No, I really didn't," Carrie admitted. "But that's your fault for doing...whatever you call that, in such an obvious place. Ever heard of doing it in the car??"

"We didn't have sex with him!" I blurted.

"Thank god Brea, because that would be fucked up!" Carrie exclaimed. "I knew you were desperate for attention, but I'd never think you could force your own cousin to suck on your toes."

My face turned crimson at the mention of having my toes sucked. To say I immensely enjoyed the unusual practice would be putting it lightly. I hadn't had much time to really consider just as strange people would find it..

"Don't get wrong Brea," Carrie continued. "It's not the toe-sucking that's messed up, it's the fact that it was your cousin you did that too. Plus, you jacked him off yourself!"

Walker had enough. "Ok Carrie, you've made your point. So are you going to tell us what you want, or do we need to drown out your voice for an hour before you get to that part."

The attractive brunette gave off an annoying, mock laugh. "Oh Walker, you think you're so clever and funny, but you're really not. If you're really that curious about what's going to happen-"

"I am," Walker interjected.

"-Then relax a little," Carrie continued. "I'm not after your money, if that's what you're thinking."

An eyebrow shot up on Walker's face. "My homecoming crown then?"

Again an annoying laugh, this time higher-pitched, erupted from Carrie's mouth. "No silly, I really don't care about 'your crown' either," she guaranteed my red-haired best friend. "In fact, I rather want you to have it."

My eyes met Walker's, both of us rather confused. "Then what do you want?" I asked, for what seemed like the millionth time between the two of us girls.

"I want you two to do exactly the same thing Brea's cousin did to you last night...to me," Carrie stated.

"Are you serious?" Walker nearly choked.

"Totally," Carrie said, cracking a dazzling smile. "You two will be my slaves after the dance tonight, like it or not. Trying to get away, and my sister," she indicated to the receptionist, "will send the principal a very startling email, with the recordings attached."

"And what if you release the recordings anyways, after tonight?" Walker asked. "You could just decide to get us in trouble after we've done our end of the bargain."

"True, but it'll happen for sure if you don't," our supposed captor pointed out. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't really want tonight's fun to get out either. I'll be quiet about it."

There was some logic to what Carrie was saying. The stuck-up skank was all about her reputation, and something like this could damage it among her popular friends. I didn't trust Carrie whatsoever, but I did trust the fact she'd never throw her social life out the window so carelessly.

"Talk it over between yourselves," Carrie offered. "Not that I expect you to take long to decide the obvious choice, even if you're both not so bright."

Walker wanted to lash out at her, but I gently gripped her arms and led her back to the front to talk. As I did so, I could feel her trembling slightly. For someone as confident, collected and adventurous as Walker was, I felt surprised she'd even let this get to her at this level.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly.

"Of course I'm not," Walker answered, sounding a bit shaken. "We're being forced to worship this bitch for an entire night."

"Just like what we did with my cousin," I reminded her.

"Not if you think about it," she disagreed. "Deep down, your cousin wanted to engage in stuff like that. He's into feet, and we gave him feet. Can we honestly say either one of us wants to lick Carrie's?" She shook her head in disgust. "Brea, last night was fun, and maybe went a bit too far honestly. But, this goes an extra step further, and that's why I'm pissed."

Her head drooped low, eyes glossed over as they stared at the floor. I knew she was right. Even when under duress, Walker was saying the right things and saw the bigger picture. That fact she'd admit wrongdoing in Jensen's case showed the maturity others failed to see, due to her playful personality. Now I had to convince her to go through a night at Carrie's mercy despite that.

"We'll get through this just fine," I consoled her. "But things might get sticky if we let her release that recording."

Walker looked up. "Alright, but first we need to make sure the recording is actually real. She could still be bluffing about the whole thing."

I nodded. "Let's go back in."

As we did so, I felt Walker's soft hand brush against mine. I reached out, thinking she wanted to hold hands, until she moved hers away subtly. While the event's of our night with Jensen revolved around him, I hadn't forgotten the kiss we shared either.

"Well, what have we decided girls?" Carrie inquired, her chair facing towards the mirror once again, as her sister was preparing a wash for her hair.

"You have yourself a deal," Walker spoke up first. "But I want to hear the recording you took, just to be sure."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Guess you're not as dumb as you look Walker. Sandra, could you play it for them please?"

Sandra stopped what she was doing, dried her hands off, then took out her iPhone. She pressed at the screen a few times, until the sound of our voices could be heard playing back. As Carrie had told us, we could hear ourselves talking down to Jensen and teasing him with our feet. It wasn't the whole thing, as it seemed to skip around a bit.

The recording reached the part when Walker had suddenly drawn me for a kiss, and I couldn't help but blush at the faint sound of us kissing. Sandra and Carrie's faces grinned as they listened, while Walker held together a straight poker face.

"Never realized you two were into each other," Carrie pestered. "Guess it makes now why you're always together."

"That was our first time," I told Carrie. "I'm not a lesbian, but honestly I did enjoy it. Judge all you want, it makes no difference to me."

Walker perked up, giving me a thankful smile. I got the sense that she was relieved to hear me say that, suggesting there was more to that kiss than being playful or friendly.

"Don't get wrong, I'm not judging you really," Carrie conceded. "I'm just surprised anyone would want to kiss you, that's all."

Just when I thought Carrie would say something nice, she found a way to weave it another way. I didn't think it possible to hate her more than I had already, but was certainly trying to make me.

"Anyways, you two are free until after the dance," she dismissed us. "Look for a text Brea, with instructions on where to find me afterwards."

We headed for the door, but then Carrie added one more thing.

"Oh, and wear that crown tonight Walker, if you get it. It'd be grand and becoming to have the homecoming queen at my feet. They'll be plenty sweaty for you."

It was beginning to make sense now, why Carrie wasn't interested in being queen. She'd be on top of the queen by the of the night, if she got her way. Not waiting for another instruction, we darted out the door and headed downtown for a homecoming ceremony that suddenly Walker wasn't so keen to attend.

October 4th, 9:27 p.m.

Homecoming was supposed to be fun, drama-free and to celebrate Walker becoming homecoming queen. As predicted she did get the crown, being voted in by a ridiculous margin. I watched her cross the stage, her best attempt at a smile upon her face. Perhaps the sickest part about Carrie's demands was taking away the pleasure of winning this crown. I did my best to look happy for Walker, when truly I was about to break out and cry.

The dance itself wasn't much better. We tried to hide our pain the best we could, going as far as to dance with literally anyone that asked. Maybe the only person to notice our disguised sadness that day was my mom.

"What's wrong?" she had asked.

"Nothing silly," I pretended to laugh. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

But there was no fooling her. "If there's anything you need to talk about, you know I'm here. That applies to Walker too."

Sadly, we couldn't tell her anything. As the night dragged on, we did feel a bit more accepting of our roles. I tried to look on the positive side. My silvery dress was cute, and I'd managed to find the perfect black heels to go with it. Mom had managed to curl my hair exactly the way I've always wanted, and even painted my nails a cute pink color.

My mind also searched to find positives to what was going to happen. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Could Carrie possibly change her mind?

A text came as the dance was starting to wind down.

"Leaving early. Address is 565 NW Jameson Blvd. Jameson Apts. Room 34. Don't change your clothes. Cya there!"

"An apartment?" Walker looked nervous as she read the text. "Guess she couldn't do this at her place."

"But whose apartment is this?" I wondered.

"Guess we'll find out," Walker sighed. "Let's just head out and get this over with.

No protest came from me. I wanted this done with as soon as possible. We walked out to my car, Walker looking up directions on her phone, and then we took off for the northwest side of town.

October 4th, 9:41 p.m.

Room 34 was on the second floor of the well-maintained two-story complex. I could hear music and a few male voices coming from inside. This apartment couldn't be owned by one of our classmates, so who's was it? Walker knocked on the door, opening almost immediately.

Unfortunately, Carrie was there to greet us. "Walker! Brea! So nice of you to join us! Come on in! Leave your shoes on please!"

We walked in slowly, taken aback by Carrie's pleasant welcome. The apartment was very lovely; vaulted ceiling, open living room and kitchen that was very spacious, the whole place well furnished. Besides myself, Walker, and Carrie, there were several guys there I didn't know. The three looked older and probably college age.

Carrie sat on one of the guy's lap. "This is Bryan, my boyfriend you two were teasing me about."

Bryan was fairly handsome, though a bit scruffy and looked a bit popped. His right hand caressed his girlfriend's long legs, her red dress daringly short even by today's standards. I had to admit, Carrie did look amazing in that outfit. Despite a night of dancing, her hair looked bouncy and voluminous. Her sister had done a terrific job with it.

"And that's Konnor, and Chase over here," she pointed to the remaining guys, who acknowledged us with nods. "So you ladies ready?" Carrie asked, extending her legs. "You'll start with a foot each."

All the guys in the room looked anxiously at us. I got the impression they might all be like my cousin, possessing a foot fetish. Walker and I kneeled on the carpeted floor, each taking one of her legs. Her black closed-toe heels were still on. Not needing a hint, I gently pulled the shoes off, catching a strong whiff of her feet and cringing.

12
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