"I can't believe it's finally finished," Kimber squealed.

The uniform took a little over a week to complete the sample. A few things from my original design had to be tweaked because apparently there were guidelines for these things. In the end, though, the red, gold and white uniform looked almost exactly like the sketch I drew up.

I used the red top—or shell, according to my extensive research on cheer uniforms—of the original uniform, giving it an asymmetrical neckline and leaving the spartan mascot front and center. The red skirt was lined with the gold fabric I spotted on that first day I joined the fashion club.

It was surreal seeing it materialized. The only thing left to do now was get approval from Coach Sanders.

Chelsea, being the ray of sunshine she is, drilled the fact that the coach was a hard ass in my head. I couldn't help but picture Coach Sanders ripping us a new one when we revealed the design to her.

"She's going to love the design," Jem assured me as we walked towards Coach Sander's office.

"I still don't see why I had to wear it," Riley complained. She covered the uniform under a tan trench coat in order to do a surprise reveal. It caught the attention of pretty much everyone we passed.

"Because," Chelsea told her, "when Coach G hulks out on us you're the only one who can take her." She laughed, showing that it was only a joke. Still, it was not helping my nerves.

We reached the office, which was located in the girls locker room. The room was a bit small as the five of us filed in. Coach Sanders was at her desk looking over some papers as she munched on her breakfast of what looked like avocado toast.

She looked harmless and not at all what I pictured. I expected her to look like a female body builder or something. Instead, she was a young, petite woman. Not at all terrifying.

"Hey, Coach," Kimber greeted cheerfully.

She looked up at us as she finished the bite of toast she had in her mouth. "What's this?" she asked, motioning to the group.

"We have a proposal for you," Jem told her.

Suddenly, I was being pushed to the front of the group, coming face to face with the infamous coach.

"Who are you?" she questioned coldly.

Despite her looking harmless, my mouth went dry as I tried to remember my own name.

"Uhm, I'm Loren," I replied. "Reed. Loren Reed."

"What do you want?"

We went over what I would say to her during the meeting a million times, but my brain turned into mush and I couldn't remember my words. Or any words for that matter.

Then I remembered Mom and how proud she was when I had finally shown her the completed uniform. Coach Sanders might hate the new design, but I didn't do it for her. I did it for Mom and she loved it. That's all that really mattered.

I was a little less nervous now as I stood before the coach. I told her the full story of how the design came to be. When I finished, Riley stepped forward, dropping her coat.

The room was still as we waited for the coach's reaction. Did she love it? Hate it? Her facial expression didn't give any hints towards her feelings on the uniform.

And then in an almost robotic-like voice she said, "I'll think about it."

That's all she gave us before turning back to her toast and paperwork. Maybe she wasn't scary looking, but she wasn't exactly the warmest person I've met. Which was weird because I always thought cheer coaches were supposed to be peppy.

We all exited the stuffy office, silent until we got out in the nippy October air.

"Well, she didn't say no," Kimber said as we walked to the outside eating area.

"Yes, she did," Chelsea scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "The plan failed just like I said it would. We're stuck with our outdated uniforms."

Although, I didn't say it out loud, I agreed with Chelsea. That sounded like a no to me.

"It was a maybe," Jem retorted. "So, we should come up with ideas for fundraisers."

"While you're discussing funds, I'm going to get changed," Riley told us, motioning to the uniform that was once again covered by the trench coat.

After she left we took our seats at the usual table in the cafeteria. I expected the discussion to start immediately, but everyone looked stumped.

"How are we going to raise $500 for a uniform?" Kimber pondered, breaking the silence.

"Only $500? That's not a lot," I said.

My comment earned amused looks from the three of them.

"That's $500 each," Jem clarified.

"Plus the costs of new shoes, pom-poms, bows, warm-ups, etcetera," Jem listed off on her fingers. "That'll be about $1500 total. Each."

"Wow," I exhaled.

I didn't know how expensive it was being a cheerleader. And to think that I wanted to become one when I was younger.

"None of that matters, though," Chelsea sang. "Because Coach G said no."

Kimber shook her head at her. "You and Owen need to get back together. He made you more positive."

"He's also the reason I'm so bitter," she turned then turned to me. "The boys at this school suck."

When the last bell of the day rang, I couldn't get out of their fast enough. I could only handle so much human interaction in a twenty-four hour period.

I walked across the parking lot to board my usual bus, when someone called out my name. Looking around, I found the origin of the voice.

It was Victoria, Vivian's mother. She stood next to her red Mercedes, eagerly waving me over. Walking over to her, I wonder what she could want. Maybe it was about me not calling her?

"Is that the uniform?" She asked, pointing to the dress bag in my hand. It was the uniform, but how did she know that?

"Uhm, yeah, it is," I replied, cautiously.

"Can I see it? Vivian mentioned that you were working on a new uniform for the girls," she told me as I handed it to her. "They really do need an upgrade."

She set the bag on the trunk of her car, unzipping it to reveal the two-piece outfit. "This is amazing," she gushed. "And you did this yourself?"

"No, some of the girls on the squad helped," I told her.

She zipped the bag up, handing it back to me. "What did Gracie have to say about it?"

"She said she'd think about it," I said. Victoria rolled her eyes at this.

"Well, just know, if she approves the designs I'm willing to pay half," she said without hesitation.

"Really? That'd be great," I said. "The girls were kind of freaking out about how they were going to pay."

Victoria opened her mouth to say something else, but someone interrupted her.

"Ma, what are you doing here?"

Vivian appeared next to us with Miles in tow. Victoria's face broke out into a wide grin as she greeted Miles with a hug.

"You did amazing in last Friday's game," she gushed.

"Thanks, Mrs. F," he said, a toothy grin flourished on his face. "I couldn't have done it without your daughter cheering me on, though."

Vivian cheeks flooded with color as she looked up, smiling at Miles. I know he said that they weren't together, but they did make a cute couple.

Victoria's grin turned into a small, tight lipped smile as she nodded in agreement. "Of course," she agreed, reluctantly.

The mood shifted as an awkward silence came over us. Vivian's bashful smile was replaced with a scowl as she turned her attention to her mom. There was some serious tension between those two.

"Well, we should get going," Victoria voiced, walking around to drivers side of the car. "Vivian, remember we're meeting your new trainer today. Maybe this one can help get rid of your baby fat."

If looks could kill, Victoria would be a goner. I had to admit, if my mom said something like that to me, I'd be giving her death glares too. That's just not something a parent should broadcast out loud.

Vivian mumbled something incoherent under her breath before giving Miles a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Once she climbed into the car with her mom, they were gone.

Miles' eyes shifted to me. "Vivian and I are just friends," he randomly informed me.

"Right," I said, letting my voice trail off. Turning on my heels I walked to my bus.

He couldn't be detoured, though. Falling into step beside, he continued, "No, really, we are."

"Never said you weren't," I told him, sending him a side-long glance. But I had thought it. Many times. There was definitely something more than friendly going on with them

He raked his hand through his hair. "Yeah, no, I know. It's just that some people think we are because Viv can go a little overboard with the physical contact."

"Okay?" I said, looking up at him. It was still weird for him to be telling me that. And why was he being so adamant about it?

Our eyes locked for a beat longer before he tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. "You, uh, have your first tutoring session with Cameron today, right?"

I nodded, amused by slight reddening of his cheeks. Was Miles Hanson getting flustered? "I do. Anything I need to know going in?"

He huffed out a sigh as he thought about it. "Watch out for Jessica."

"Wait, what? Who's Jessica?"

He simply grinned, turning in the opposite direction. "I gotta get to practice."