Beyond the gym’s double doors the marching band was playing, “We Will Rock You” badly. The drums vibrated off the walls. The team was lined up just outside the doors. So far today, no one had said anything about Reginald. No one had treated Joe differently. He hoped Coach and Darryl both kept their mouths shut.

The music blared louder. Behind Joe, Darryl started to shimmy. His 6'4" frame jiggled all over. Joe hissed, "Be still."

Sliding to the left, Darryl said, “I can't. When I hear the rhythm of the drums, the blood of my Jamaican ancestors undulates in my veins and I can not stop the jubilation of their spirits within me.”

“You aren't Jamaican."

"Could be Mon."

Joe rolled his eyes.

The doors to the gym were opened. Over the loud speakers Principal Watkins shouted, “Welcome this year's FIGHTING TIGERS!” The team ran through the double doors.

From the bleachers, a tall girl shouted, “The fighting Tigers are more than just football.” She was on the volleyball team. Girl’s teams never got Pep Rallies.

Uneasily Joe went to center court and stood with the team lined up, facing the crowd. Some of the people were on their feet, most were just there so they wouldn't have to go to class.

Coach Wilson introduced the players alphabetically, so of course Joe was first. When he called out “Josiah Aaron,” Joe stepped forward. Something amazing happened. Everyone stood up and clapped for him. Everyone. They knew who he was. Even the volleyball girl was on her feet cheering. Why? Was it because he was a senior, was it because they knew it was his year? Some said, his legs could take them to the State Championship.

Beside him Darryl shouted, “Wave, man, wave.”

Joe obeyed and the crowd clapped louder. Their energy surged through him. Mama would want to hear about this. He felt like a rock star. Flashes went off. He was going to be in the newspaper. Coach called out Darryl’s name, "Darryl Bowen" and Joe stepped back in line. When Darryl stepped forward, people sat down. They barely clapped. Darryl stepped back. All the jiggle had gone out of him. He muttered, “Pep rallies SUCK.”

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Joe used to think so, but the warmth of the crowd’s applause still tingled inside of him. In his mind he saw a giant college stadium filled with people cheering for him and after that a pro stadium. That would be the best. And it all started NOW!

After the last player’s name was called, the team filed off the court and sat in a row of folding chairs on the sideline.

Next came the cheerleaders. Darryl’s little sister Danita was one of them. She had really filled out over the summer. This time last year she had been a broom handle with big hair. Now, she had curves. Nice, full curves.

Darryl jabbed Joe hard in the ribs. “Don’t you be looking at my sister like that.”

Joe turned his attention to his favorite cheerleader, Christy Thorton. Her long blonde hair fluttered like a wild thing as she ran to center court. Joe’s fingers itched to touch that hair, to get all tangled up in it.

Music blasted from above. The cheerleaders gyrated in a pagan dance. They bounced all over. It was a beautiful thing. Beside him, Darryl’s whole body kept time to the music. As Christy Thorton was being lifted into the air, she smiled at Joe. There was no mistaking it, that smile was for him. Darryl jabbed him in the ribs, he had noticed it too.

The music stopped. The girls ran back to the opposite side of the gym. When Christy sat down on the floor, she waved at Joe. He raised his fingers to her. She smiled.

Darryl leaned over and said, “That girl wants you. I hear she gives it away.”

“Shut up.”

“She could make a man out of you.”

Could she? Would she?

Darryl smirked at him. “Of course your mama wouldn’t like it, now would she? And if Mama don't like it, Joe don't do it.”

“Shut up.” Joe frowned at him.

Darryl leaned back and laughed.