It seems crazy to think that the one thing that people know me for will be nothing but a memory after tonight. In the years before high school, I was only known as “The Rich Girl” and I hated it. Then, I became “The Cheerleader.”

I mean, it isn’t great to be known for just one part of my life, but at least people recognized me for something I was good at. Princeton became my home away from home, a place where I could be myself without my parents meddling in my business.

It was actually better than home, because when my classmates hear the name Alexa Hall, most don’t make the connection to my multimillion dollar family.

Growing up, I always wanted to play sports. I’m a fierce competitor, but my mother thought that girls’ sports were for “the rough kids”. That’s just another way of saying “poor, ugly people”.

I remember one time in elementary school, I was playing soccer with some kids at recess. I collided with a boy two years older than me and I got a couple teeth knocked out. They were just baby teeth, so it really wasn’t a big deal. My mom absolutely berated me when I got home, though. When she stopped yelling at me for ruining my face, she just cried and wouldn’t look at me for days.

She wouldn’t let me participate in the pageant I was supposed to be in that weekend and told the school that I was not allowed to take part in such dangerous games. I was relieved that I didn’t have to go to the pageant, but having to sit on the sidelines when my friends were having fun at recess was torture.

So it was a bit of a surprise when my mom allowed me to try out for the cheerleading squad when I started high school. The cheer coach said that I was the first freshman to make the varsity squad in over a decade.

I went from sitting on the sideline to cheering on the sideline, actually being able to be part of something. I loved cheering, but I really liked having an excuse to be able to go to my school’s sporting events and be so close to the action.

I loved the feeling of sprinting down the sideline to pull off a perfect front handspring. I got a rush every time I was tossed in the air. I thrived when all eyes were on me while dancing along to the marching band’s music during time outs. There’s nothing better than cheering for the football team on a crisp autumn night.

My throat tightened when I remembered that this was the last night I would spend with the springy turf of the field underneath my feet. I always secretly enjoyed watching football, but college football is a whole other spectacle. I was ecstatic when I learned that I made the Princeton squad.

No matter what was going on in my life, I always had Saturdays to look forward to. I loved waking up early, spending the morning getting ready with my friends on the squad, and supporting the football team. I liked spending time with the football players, too.

They were funny and cute and threw awesome parties. Being in with the football players was kind of like being a celebrity, at least on campus. I got to know some of them pretty well - I wish I would have gotten to know some of them better.

“Alexa, ten seconds until halftime. Let’s go!” Sasha hissed at me, snapping me from my daydream.

During halftime, the cheerleaders go to their own special locker room in the stadium while the band performs the halftime show. It’s the only part of the day when we’re out of the spotlight.

“Can you believe it’s almost over? I mean, we still have the basketball season, but I can’t imagine not being here next season,” Sasha said as she swiped some bright red lipstick across my lips.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gia sniffled. “I can’t stop thinking about how sad Sam is going to be tonight. Especially if they lose this one.

“Oh, they might come back and win it. You never know,” I replied, trying to be optimistic. But really, I had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t going to win this one. The second half of the season had been a downward spiral.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, dabbing at the corners of her eyes as if her positive attitude alone could help her boyfriend’s losing team.

“And imagine the party tonight if they do win,” Sasha said. “I imagine that a certain football player will want to thank you for all of your support over the past four years.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Sasha,” I mock scolded my best friend. “Who said I was even planning on partying tonight? Maybe I’ll just go home and finish up some homework.”

“You nerd,” Gia joked. “If I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t think you were the head cheerleader.”

I smiled. I worked really hard to get good grades and still have time to work on new cheer routines. I didn’t want the other girls to think it was okay to go through college being nothing more than pretty, rich, and popular.

“Let’s go, ladies,” the cheer coach yelled down the hallway. “Five minutes until the second half starts.”

I grabbed my pom poms and walked back into the stadium. The crowd was quiet. It’s not easy watching your team miss easy tackles or drop passes. It was even harder to cheer when the crowd just wants to go home and drink away the pain of another loss. It was time to get to work.

“Let’s go Tigers, let’s go!” I shouted, leading my squad. I did the pass I worked on all season to perfection—a round off, two back handsprings and a back flip. I stuck the landing, smiled, and waved to the crowd. This got the student section on their feet. It felt good to get attention for skills that I worked so hard to hone.

The players ran back out onto the field, our cue to start dancing. I made the mistake of looking behind me during our old familiar routine. I quickly made, and then broke, eye contact with one of the players. Martin flashed a quick smile at me and for a split second, I lost my place in the routine. I could hear Sasha snickering at me through her wide cheerleader smile.

“What happened there, Alexa?” Sasha laughed during the kickoff.

“Sorry, I guess I got distracted,” I blushed.

“My guess is that you caught a glimpse of Martin and your brain shut down,” she casually replied.

“Ha, you think you’re so clever,” I fake laughed. My brain spun as I tried to change the subject.

“Hey, Gia. Your boyfriend looks like he’s going to murder someone,” I said.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I hope his opponents find him scary, because I think it’s adorable.”

“Ugh, just get married already,” Sasha groaned. “You guys are just too cute for me.”

“TOUCHDOWN!” the announcer roared. “Number 81, Donny Jackson!”

The cheerleaders jumped up and down, our cheers drowned out by the crowd. Donny ran to the sideline and winked at me when he took off his helmet. I pretended not to see.

After the extra point kick, we began the routine to the school song. What a rush! Sometimes, I had to fake my cheer smile, but this one was as real as it gets.

There was only five minutes left in the game. The team was down by eight points now. A win would be a great way to end my cheerleading career. I don’t think I’ve ever cheered so loudly in my life. The crowd was on their feet.

“Defense, defense,” I shouted, and the whole stadium followed. This was the loudest I’ve ever heard the crowd in the last four years. The noise worked. The other team couldn’t hear the play call and in their confusion, our players forced a fumble and ran it back to the fifty-yard line.

Three minutes to go.

The coach called a timeout, which was our cue to cheer. The music was booming and the energy from the crowd was electric. It was time for some stunts. I carefully placed my foot in the hands of two strong cheerleaders and they launched me into the sky.

I was flying and I didn’t want to come down because once I did, it was back to reality. I nailed my toe touch and landed in the soft cradle of my teammate’s arms. They had been like family to me, and I hated the thought of leaving the team and being replaced.

One minute left. The team had managed a few sloppy first downs to make it to the thirty-yard line. Then, a penalty pushed them back ten yards. There was only enough time for one more drive.

First down, they ran the ball three yards.

Second down, just two yards.

Third down needed to be a long pass down the field.

The crowd went silent. The ball was in the air, flying down to the end zone. One of the wide receivers reached up with one hand and caught the ball. The stadium erupted. They were only down by one point with mere seconds left to go. A successful extra point kick would send the game into overtime. A two-point conversion would win it.

I led one final cheer before the final play. When I turned around, I saw the kicker run on to the field. The center hiked the ball to the holder, who quickly stood up and got ready to throw the ball.

It was a trick play!

The ball went flying through the air to find our receiver in the corner of the end zone. I held my breath as I watched it soar toward his hands. Two players bobbled it in the air, and one of our players grabbed it. It was over. The Princeton Tigers won the final game of the season!

The excitement in the crowd was intoxicating. The cheerleaders ran onto the field to join the players and students in celebration. We were jumping around and singing the school’s fight song.

It was loud and there were people everywhere. At one point, I felt a hand graze my lower back. I turned around to see who it was, but they were gone. My heart was beating faster, but I wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe I just got caught up in the win.

“Come on, Alexa,” Sasha called to me. “Let’s change and go get some drinks.”

I nodded. “Good idea. I’ll buy.”

“Good,” she said, draping her arm around my shoulder. “I wasn’t going to offer.”