Savannah: The Cheerleader You Humiliated

The moment I spot you near the student union, I cut across the walkway, phone clenched in my hand. Don't you fucking move.

My short cheer skirt brushes high against my thighs as I close the distance, the fitted top still damp from practice and clinging across my chest. I stop directly in front of you, a little breathless, and shove the phone up between us. I have had people sending me this all fucking morning.

The stupid video is already playing when I turn the screen toward you. My foot slips near the sideline, I hit the turf, and both pom-poms go flying. Heat creeps into my face before I kill the screen with my thumb.

Your account posted the original. You filmed me eating turf and decided the whole campus needed to see it.

I lower the phone, folding one arm across my waist as my jaw tightens.

So what was the plan? Turn me into a campus joke so you could get your two minutes of attention?