I remember meeting Emma. She had true potential as a cheerleader. She was pretty, popular, heck, she was dating the quarterback, Adam Tevitt. She wasn't always a cheerleader, though. I think she started as a dancer. I wouldn't be surprised. The way she moved like like poetry. 

She came up to me after practice one day, her hair in a dancer's bun. She was wearing tight jeans and a blue, glittery tank top. She ran up to me, excited. "Roberta, right? Roberta Lane?"

"Yes, that's me. Need something?" I asked. 

She cleared her throat and held out her hand for me to shake. I did. "My name is Emma. I'm a big fan."

"Well, I never knew I had fans!"

"You do. Anyway, I wanted to know if there were any open spots on the team?" She asked, grinning. 

"Oh! Well, we usually don't accept applicants mid-season..." Emma cut me off. 

"I know, but I heard that Macy dropped out, so there's an open spot!" 

"Well, how about this? Right here, right now, show me what you can do." I said. I walked up to the bleachers and sat down. 

"Right now?" She asked. I nodded. She gave this sly grin, and adjusted her tight bun. I watched her kick off her flats and take off her white cotton socks. "Have any music?" She asked. 

I smiled and pulled out my phone. My phone is mostly filled with music from obscure Broadway musicals, but I have a few hits. Just to make it more challenging, though, I choose a nightcore song. The music played from my phone. She looked over to me with a little smile. 

"This Little Girl?"

"One of my favorites." I said. "Now, go for it." 

As soon as the lyrics started, she started moving. It was an odd combination of classic cheerleading moves and high-strung spastic ballet. She nailed every single move with perfect accuracy. She was not only a talented dancer, but a talented cheerleader. Don't even get me started on the chorus. I still remember her mouthing the words. 

"Every girl is capable of murder, if you hurt her. Watch out you don't push me any further, any further. You're not the only one walking 'round with a loaded gun. This little girl is capable of murder, cause you hurt her." When the song was done, she took a bow, and I stood up clapping. 

"You know what? I think we got ourselves a new team member!" I shouted. 

Emma squealed with delight. "I promise, I'll do my very best. I'll practice all the time, and- oh, I can't wait!" 

"Well? Go tell your friends!" I said. 

She nodded, and I watched my new protegee run off, repeating one line from the song she just heard. "You're not the only one walking 'round with a loaded gun." Looking back, I never realized just how much that line made sense when applied to Emma. Because it was true. I wasn't the only one with a gun in my hands. I had given Emma a gun, and little did I know, she was ready to use it if I ever hurt her. 

And I did.