...you do excellent (Physique 4+)

You know you came in very physically fit as well as understanding how Lacrosse is played, and that helps you out a lot. You've also been working out a lot over the last few days, and that has a significant impact. Admittedly, what helps you even more is that far too many of the other prospects are incompetent to the point of farce, and would be worse than useless on the team. Coach Mayfield seems visibly horrified at his options. Among the rejects, you stand out like an MVP. Then you push past that, and something in you encourages you to give it 100% even if you are surrounded by people who can't even compete. You start making a mockery of every other recruit there, easily demonstrating that you are head and shoulders over every other prospect.

It's still enough to exhaust you. As the sun lowers in the sky, you head over to the water station and find the cheerleaders there.

"Hey," you say, as you take a drink of water.

"Hey," {If Know Taylor = 1}Taylor says. "{else}the black cheerleader says. "My name is Taylor. {endif}I saw you out there."

"Oh, really," you say, trying to act cool. "What did you think?"

Her light and well-rounded face has a harsh, critical expression. "Impressive. Truly impressive. You might actually make this team not a waste of time."

"Whoa," you chuckle to hide the wound from that cut. "You know...that's not the kind of thing people normally outright say."

"Because those people care about being nice," Taylor says. "I care about our success. If I'm going to cheer for Lacrosse I am cheering for the best damn Lacrosse team in the State, and by the looks of today, this ain't it. But maybe you can change that."

"Glad to hear that your hopes for me are high," you smile, trying to break the ice. Why do her compliments come off so harsh?

"I don't hope. I expect," she looks you up and down. Then, as if there's nothing strange about it, she starts circling you, examining you from different angles. "You have a great body. Your coordination is superb. I take it that you've played Lacrosse before?"

"No. And you don't have to treat me like a piece of meat," you say.

She looks up at your face. Her cold black eyes burn for a second, then freeze over again. She says, "think of it this way. Every team member kind of is a piece of meat. They're an organ out of the whole body, the team. I don't have any reason to treat you as an individual until you earn that. From the looks of things, you will. But that'll be after we start winning games with you on the team."

It's enough to make you snap. "Look, you are a cheerleader. Can you just take a step back and acknowledge that?"

One of the other cheerleaders chuckles, you almost forgot they were there.

"You really don't get how this works, then," she says. "I'm also part of the body of the team, and a lot closer to the head than you are."

You clench both your fists. There's no point in interacting with her anymore. You abruptly start walking away.

"What are you doing?" She asks, as you go.

"Thanks for the compliments, but I don't like your attitude," you say. "If I really did do a great job, I'd personally rather feel like I did."

Despite yourself, you glance back once, as you step off the field and into campus. You see that she is looking at you, and you are just close enough to see a new look on her face. Are you imagining it, or is that...some kind of respect? No, not just that. An outright fascination. She is staring at you wide-eyed, actually intimidated. Good. You head back onto campus.

After pushing yourself so hard, it's impossible for you to do anything other than go straight to bed. You crash, and the next morning when you wake up, you don't even remember whether you ate dinner.