Chapter 8
Friday, 4 p.m., at the gym.
The time had finally come.
After changing into her gym uniform, Sian waited for her turn. Then her name was called.
“Sienna Kim Rogers, please come in.”
You can do this.
Sian took a deep breath and stood in front of the judges.
There were two evaluators.
One was the cheer coach. The other was the cheer captain, Victoria Nelson.
Seeing at least one familiar face helped ease some of the tension.
“Please introduce yourself.”
Victoria’s tone was purely business. Sian tried not to shrink away.
Despite her trembling nerves, she recited the self-introduction she had practiced and performed a short cheer routine to music.
She even managed the back handspring she’d practiced until her palms blistered—there were minor slips, but she did it.
“Thanks. That was well done. You must’ve worked hard.”
“Thank you!”
“We’ll notify you of the results by email on Monday.”
She could already picture herself nervously waiting all weekend.
But Sian quickly pulled herself together.
Even if she didn’t make the team, it wasn’t the end of the world. Aaron had promised to help steal her brother’s hair, after all, so there was no need to cling to it desperately.
“I can still see my brother play, even if I’m not a cheerleader.”
So don’t take it too hard if you fail.
Just applying for something like this had been a special experience.
Back when she was hospitalized, she couldn’t even have imagined it.
Feeling a bit lighter, she gathered her things.
There was a brief pause before the next applicant was called.
That’s when someone pushed past her shoulder.
Sian let out a startled yelp and landed hard on her backside. Blinking in shock, she looked up.
“There’s been some kind of mistake, Coach! My name isn’t on the applicant list. I was the first one to apply!”
The girl’s voice rang out through the gym. Her body was thin as a twig, her arms like bare branches.
Sian stared at her, momentarily forgetting to get up. The girl’s frail frame reminded her painfully of herself during her battle with leukemia.
“Janice. We already talked about this, didn’t we?”
Victoria let out a long sigh.
The cheer coach turned to her with a confused expression.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing serious. Sienna, why are you still here?”
Victoria tried to steer the conversation away by calling Sian out—but she failed.
Because Janice raised her voice even louder:
“I understand not everyone can be a cheerleader. But I can’t accept not even being allowed to try!”
Now the cheer coach looked serious. She took off her glasses and stared hard at Victoria.
“Yeah, I agree. Victoria, did you tamper with the applicant list?”
Victoria’s cheeks flushed red.
Clearly, she knew she had done something wrong.
And under pressure to fix the situation, she made a terrible mistake.
“But Coach, Janice has an eating disorder! How can we let someone sick be on the team?”
Silence fell over the gym.
Fortunately, the other applicants were waiting in a separate area, but Sian had heard it—and that was the problem.
“C-Coach…!”
Victoria’s face turned pale as she realized her slip-up.
Janice turned even whiter, then bolted from the gym.
“I’m really disappointed in you today, Victoria.”
The coach sighed heavily.
Even Sian, who wasn’t directly involved, felt a sting in her chest from the weight of those words.
Then the coach turned her gaze to Sian.
“Sienna.”
“Yes.”
“Please keep what happened with Janice a secret. I’m asking you.”
“Yes… I will.”
Sian could only nod.
The new week began.
Aaron found himself surprised by the realization—it had already been a week since the semester started.
He hadn’t expected anything from the new term.
Just the same old boring routine.
But this term was different.
‘Where is she? Why isn’t she here yet?’
For someone used to eating lunch alone, waiting for someone like this was a big change.
Aaron finally lifted his eyes from the book he was holding and scanned the cafeteria.
He’d been staring at the same sentence for ages and hadn’t absorbed a single word.
Then he saw her.
“Aaron!”
The familiar girl with long black hair approached, and Aaron quickly looked back at his book, pretending nothing had happened.
As her glossy hair rippled like waves, heads turned to look at her.
She drew eyes like a black hole—but the only person she looked at was Aaron.
‘Why him?’
Everyone seemed to ask the same question.
She could have picked anyone better.
But she’d chosen Aaron Simmons—the socially awkward loner—as her first friend.
Even Aaron thought it strange how persistently Sian kept seeking him out.
Most people gave up after getting hit with his cold attitude.
“Sorry, did you wait long?”
“Why would I wait for you?”
Aaron snorted and put down his book.
Despite his words, he hadn’t touched his food and was clearly waiting.
‘So not honest.’
Sian stifled a giggle and checked the title of his book.
Waiting for Godot today.
She noticed his books seemed to be getting thinner by the day.
‘Is it because I keep bothering him?’
The thought passed quickly as excitement bubbled up.
“I got an email! About the cheerleader results.”
“Did you check?”
“Nope. I waited for you so we could see it together.”
Since Aaron helped her practice, he had every right to see the results too.
His face didn’t show much interest, but Sian pulled out her phone anyway.
There it was—an email from the cheer coach.
The subject line didn’t hint at the result.
Just before opening it, Sian pressed a hand to her chest to steady her pounding heart.
“Even if I didn’t make it, it’s okay. You said you’d help steal my brother’s hair, remember?”
“What?”
Now he remembered—she had insisted she’d do it herself before.
Aaron shook his head.
“Just open the email already.”
“Okay. I’m really opening it now.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and tapped the screen.
Her heartbeat drowned out all other sounds.
“You have been… accepted!”
“Good for you.”
Aaron’s voice was indifferent, but the look in his eyes had softened.
The email included the practice schedule and uniform fee, but that could wait.
Sian slumped forward on the table.
Even though she’d told herself it was fine to fail, it turned out she really had wanted it.
Becoming a cheerleader made her so happy she couldn’t stop smiling.
“You’re that happy?”
“Yeah. I’m going to tell my parents!”
Still flushed with joy, she sent a message to her adoptive parents—then suddenly thought of Janice.
‘I wonder if she’s okay.’
They weren’t close. In fact, they’d just met that day. But Sian couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She scanned the cafeteria but didn’t see her.
Lowering her voice, she asked Aaron,
“Do you know someone named Janice?”
“The girl with anorexia?”
His blunt response startled Sian.
“You knew? About her… condition?”
“Pretty much everyone here does.”
Apparently, it was an open secret.
Sian’s expression darkened.
“She was there last Friday. She wanted to be a cheerleader too…”
“Not surprised.”
“Why not?”
Aaron explained calmly.
“She used to be called ‘Fat Janice’ since elementary school. The bullying got worse in middle school.”
“People are horrible.”
Sian grimaced like she’d bitten into a lemon.
Then she narrowed her eyes at Aaron.
“You didn’t tease her too, did you?”
He looked at her like she’d asked something ridiculous.
Sian had a habit of overestimating him.
“Why would I? We were in the same boat.”
True—no way the quiet, bookish Aaron had avoided teasing either.
Sian sighed.
Aaron shrugged.
“It was after summer break last year, I think. Janice came back looking completely different. But… yeah.”
“She starved herself.”
Sian finished the thought. Aaron nodded.
“People started hearing vomiting noises in the girls’ bathroom after lunch. I think she even fainted once during gym class.”
Maybe because he felt some kinship with her, Aaron remembered a lot.
He was about to say more but stopped when he saw Sian’s expression.
“She hasn’t shown up in the cafeteria at all lately. That’s when everyone assumed she had anorexia.”
“Oh…”
“If she made the cheer team, maybe people would stop teasing her.”
Sian remembered Janice’s skeletal frame and felt a heaviness settle over her.
That was the body of someone sick. It reminded her too much of her own past.
And another thought crossed her mind.
“I haven’t seen my brother at lunch either.”
Just like Janice, Ian hadn’t been in the cafeteria.
That alone made her worry.
“…Is Ian all you think about?”
“He’s my brother. Of course I worry.”
Aaron still looked displeased.
Sian understood why.
They’d been talking about Janice, and she had suddenly jumped to Ian. It probably felt abrupt.
But she couldn’t help it.
Sian wasn’t a doctor—she didn’t know how to help Janice.
And Janice probably didn’t want pity from someone she barely knew.
So she simply smiled and lightened the mood.
“If you ever go missing at lunch, I’ll worry just the same.”
“Nobody asked you to. Now eat your sandwich.”
Aaron snorted, but his eyes looked faintly amused.
