They said nothing. They just stared. She watched one of them bite down onto the tip of their pen. Whispers were exchanged into the ears of juxtaposing...panelists behind cupped hands. This was fine, Eloise thought to herself. Looks were a big part of how cheerleaders are judged, regardless of whether or not that was an overtly-presented criteria of being one or not. They had to judge her looks, right? She was meant to feel slightly like a piece of meat being judged for succulence.. right?“Please. This time, I was more appropriatelyattired. The "V" of my clingy sweater showed just a hint of cleavage.The new jeans were cuffed to mid-calf, showing off my knee boots. If shetook issue with the four-inch heels, she didn't say so. In fact, hersmile was anything but off-putting. She slipped her arm through mine andescorted me to the living room. The computer and DVD's were on thecoffee table."I took care of your laptop for you," she offered. "I made copies of thedisks, too. I would appreciate. More

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