Ding, ding! My alarm clock rang.

“Just one more minute,” I mumbled sleepily, snuggling deeper into my bed.

Wait!

I shot upright.

“It’s the first day of school!” I yelled, leaping out of bed.

I rummaged through my closet, pulling out a cute shirt. “Where are my jeans?” I wondered aloud.

From the kitchen, my mom’s voice floated up. “Sweetie, I put your jeans in the washing machine yesterday. They were dirty.”

“No!” I shrieked. My first day was about to be ruined!

Feeling desperate, I marched into my mom’s room. Her closet was a sea of T-shirts and tights—not exactly my style. But in a dusty corner, I spotted light-wash jeans with a small hole at the knee. Perfect. Grabbing the jeans, I ripped the hole wider, tugging at the loose threads.

“That’s better,” I muttered, satisfied.

“Amelia, are you ready yet?” Mom called.

“Almost!” I answered, rushing to change. I even added a bit of makeup from a brand called Black Beauty before heading downstairs.

Mom froze when she saw me. “Uh, sweetie, what…” she began.

I braced myself for a lecture.

“I’m sorry, Mom! I’ll buy you new jeans, and—”

She shook her head softly. “Sweetie, it’s okay. Just… ask next time before borrowing my things. And you don’t need makeup. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“I just want to be cool,” I murmured.

Beep! The school bus.

“Bye, Mom!” I shouted, grabbing my bag and dashing outside.

On the bus, kids stared at me oddly. I found an empty seat next to a quiet girl with glasses. The school was only minutes away, but their looks made it feel like forever.

The school doors were plastered with bright flyers: Riverdale Academy Annual Cheer Competition: Tryouts Today!

My heart leapt—I couldn’t wait to try out.

Inside, I grabbed my schedule and bumped into students who stared at me, too. What was their problem? I hurried to find my locker and headed to my first class, math. Room 201 was a whole floor away!

I reached the room just as the bell rang. “Phew, close call,” I whispered, slipping into a middle-row seat.

“Welcome to Riverdale Academy!” said Ms. Maria, our new math teacher. Her voice was warm and enthusiastic.

But even as class started, I could feel those strange looks again. What was going on?

At lunch I sat alone until a girl from my class, Alia, joined me. She’d moved from India the year before and loved basketball. As we chatted, she told me all about the school—and the cheerleaders. I told her about the tryouts. I couldn’t wait!

When the final bell rang, I practically ran to the gym for cheer tryouts. I gave it my all, and I could tell I surprised the cheerleaders. But the cheer captain, Courtney, just smirked.

“Sorry, but you didn’t make the team,” she said. “We just added Avery.”

Avery? She’d barely participated—just a single cartwheel!

“But I did a full routine,” I protested. “How is that fair?”

Courtney popped her gum. “Please. We’ll never win with someone the color of a rotten banana.”

Her words stung like a slap. I ran out of the gym, tears threatening to spill.

The next morning, I stared into the mirror, determined. “Today is going to be a good day.”

On the bus, Alia joined me. I was grateful to have her there. At school, I noticed the stares again, but they didn’t hurt as much this time.

In English, I saw Courtney sitting at my desk, so I sat somewhere else. We were reading Percy Jackson. Our teacher showed the trailer for the latest series, and when Annabeth—played by a Black actress—appeared, the class erupted with laughter. I sank lower in my seat, hurt for her and for me.

Later in gym, I shared everything with Alia—Courtney, cheer tryouts, and English class.

She frowned thoughtfully.
“I have an idea,” she said. “What if we start our own cheer team—one that includes everyone Courtney rejected?”

“Really?” My heart raced with excitement. “When can we start?”

“After school. Come to my place—we’ll make flyers!”