5.

His presence alone made me feel like I was being noticed, something I no longer experienced with Sam. He challenged me, made me question my morals, teased and riled me up, but most importantly, spared me his attention. His undivided attention.

And I couldn't get enough.

"Okay from the top please, girls! That looked really good," the coach admits, as I bend over and attempt to catch my breath for what feels like the tenth time since we've started practice. This skirt was ridiculously short - and it didn't help with my insecurities.

"Cute panties," one girl giggles, and I immediately straighten my back up again from embarrassment.

As if she read my mind, she then proceeded,

"Don't worry, it happens all the time. I hate these skirts - too short, even for my liking," she winks, and I let out a brief sigh of relief.

"Thanks, what's your name?" I ask, thinking that I might as well get to know some of these girls while I'm forcing the cheerleader lifestyle.

"Mia, you're the new girl right?"

"Unfortunately," I laugh, "the first year."

"I joined in my first year too, and I've been doing this ever since. Once you start you can't really stop. It's entrapment, if you ask me."

Up until now I never considered cheerleading to be some sort of prison - I always assumed it would be an escape, at least that's what it looked like from afar. But come to think of it, it was really hard work, equally as hard as any other class you'd take in college, and this unsettled me.

"You should come to the party with us after!" Mia interrupts my train of thought, and my head begins to shake reflexively.

"Uh no, I don't think -"

"She's right, freshman! Have some fun! Don't you want to have fun?" Another interrupts, a much thinner and seemingly more experienced girl. As she walks over to us, I notice that she is undeniably beautiful - her hair is a clean shade of blond, and her eyes are a bright, crystal blue. She is everything that I am not, and a wave of insecurity floods me as she continues to stand there and flaunt her perfect features.

"Pleaseeeee," Mia begs, dragging the last letter out, as I stand there certain of how much I didn't want to go, but also eager to make a good first impression on these girls, as I knew that I couldn't exactly be myself around them in order to gain their empathy.

"Okay." I blurt out, seemingly surprising the both of us, as well as the blond girl whom I now learnt is called Yasmine. As we begin the short walk towards the frat house, I begin to grow more and more flustered; my palms are slicked with sweat at the idea of Sam finding out about my whereabouts. It was nearing nine, and the party was apparently just starting. Sam had dropped a text saying he'll be home late as he has an art project to finish up in the studio, and so I justified my sudden change in mood by relieving myself with the idea that I'll get home before him, and that he will only know what he needs to. I felt guilty about not telling him I'd started cheerleading practice, but at the same time the whole point of me signing up in the first place was to surprise him. And it was too early on to let him in on my little secret.

As Mia dragged me through the labyrinth that was the frat house, my nerves did not settle. Sweaty bodies danced awkwardly to the blasting music, and drinks spilled left right and centre onto the already stained carpets. This was a mess - it was everything I envisioned college parties to be, and it was the very reason I chose to stay away in the first place. I'm suddenly shoved back into one of the speakers, and my cheerleading uniform is stained with red wine. Who the hell drinks red wine at frat parties? Who manages the budget?

"Hey!" I shout in frustration, and I'm met with the familiar face of my old roommate.

"Rrromie!!" She slurs, and I instinctively reach out my arm to balance her.

"What are you doing here? I thought college parties weren't your thing!"

"They're not," I admit, and she must've noticed my growing anger at my environment because she mumbled something under her breath and dragged me upstairs, where there was more room for movement and far more quiet.

"Dove, seriously? Cheerleading?" She presses on, as she notices my uniform, now ruined by her spilt drink.

"I mean, yeah. What's wrong with cheerleading?"

"Everything! Everything is wrong with it! Dove, this isn't you. All those times I tried to persuade you to join me at one of these houses, you'd turn me down. What's it been, three weeks? And you're already reinventing yourself? Did something happen with you and Samuel?"

I'm surprised at how well she was communicating with the amount of alcohol that was no doubt in her system.

"No, no. I mean yes. Kind of. Nothing bad though, we're just going through a bit of a rough patch like any other couple and I needed a change."

"A change? Dove, you're a whole new person! I barely even recognised you! And is that makeup?" She reaches her hand out to rub at my highlighted cheek, and I bat it away.

"Yes, it's makeup." I say out of annoyance, and am taken back by the sudden arrogance in my tone. Oh no, I'm becoming one of them.

"I can't believe you. Why didn't you tell me something was wrong?"

Her bombardment of questions triggers something in me, and the words are out of my mouth before I can process them.

"Because you wouldn't understand! That's just it, Lilian. You would never get it. All you've done the past few months is waste your time at college parties so that you could feel something! You're drunk on god knows what every weekend, you bring back some loser every weekend, and I bet you just couldn't wait until your dorm room emptied out so you could do as you please free from my warnings!"

I take a deep breath and recollect myself, and watch as my friend nods her head once, kisses her teeth and heads back downstairs, leaving me alone and regretting my decision to come here in the first place.

She was right.

I was becoming a whole new person.