HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is just a little missing scene from Sheridan Rose, and the story isn't even finished. LOL.

ONE TACKLE, TWO SODAS, AND A FIRST KISS

"Okay, Sheri, it's your turn," Misty Braxton announced. It was the last night of cheerleading camp and the entire squad had gathered in Sheri Yoast and Precious Johnson's room. For what reason, Sheri wasn't sure. All she knew was she wanted to get some sleep, but they had begun a game of Truth or Dare. A very loud game of Truth or Dare.

"It's not my turn," she replied, putting a pillow over her head. "It's not my turn because I'm not playing."

"Come on, Sheri you have to play," Misty pleaded. "Everyone is playing."

"If I play this turn, will you leave me alone and let me go to sleep?"

"Yes."

"Okay, fine." She moved the pillow and got down on the floor with the other 13 girls on her squad.

"Truth."

"Angela, it's your turn to ask," Misty, the self appointed keeper of the game announced.

An ex-G.W. cheerleader giggled. "Okay. Who was the first boy you kissed? Where were you? How old were you? And what were you doing at the time?"

"Not fair," Sheri protested. "That's like five questions."

"It's four, Dumbo," Terri Lynn rolled her eyes. "Besides, everyone already knows. It had to have been Gerry Bertier. Ya'll were together since Seventh Grade."

"You have to answer," Angela insisted. "You agreed."

"Fine, I'll answer. I don't see what the big deal is anyway," Sheri huffed. "The first boy I kissed WAS Gerry Bertier, the summer between sixth and seventh grade, we were twelve years old and sitting on my front porch swing after playing football. Satisfied?"

"Yes," Angela smirked. "Now it's your turn to ask someone something."

Sheri didn't want to play. She didn't want to ask anyone anything, but she didn't want to be a grump either. She was saved by Mrs. Moncrief. "Sheri, honey, you have a telephone call."

"Okay." She went down the hall and picked up the telephone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sweetheart."

She smiled. "Hey, Coach."

"How's it going?" He asked.

"Great. I'm completely exhausted, but everything is okay. I miss you and Sis. But I'll get to see ya'll tomarrow." She replied.

"Yeah, that's what I was calling you about," he said. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful, and make sure you know how to get here."

"Trust me, Daddy, I know."

"And, if you're too tired to come tomorrow, then Sheryl can always stay another day. She'd be okay for the rest of camp, if you didn't really want to make the trip."

"I ain't staying in that house by MYSELF for no week," she answered, horrorfied. "It's haunted."

Coach laughed. "Our house is not haunted. Despite what you and Sheryl think."

"That's what you say," she replied. "Anyway, I want to see ya'll. I'll be there tomarrow afternoon."

"Okay, if you're sure, I'll see you then. How are you feeling? Is everything..."

"It's under control," she interrupted. "I'm exhausted because we've been working all day, everyday for the past two weeks, not because my diabetes is out of whack. Quit worrying so much."

"Can't help it. Here, your sister wants to say something to you."

"Hey, Sissie. Guess what? This new guy, Sunshine kissed Gerry right on the mouth! At least that's what Alan said. But it was only a joke, cause Gerry called him a fruitcake. When are you coming here? I miss you. All these guys want to do is fight. It's boring this year." Sheryl said in one breath.

"Hey, yourself," she replied. "And he kissed Gerry on the mouth? Yuck!"

"Why is that yuck? You've kissed Gerry on the mouth."

Sheri heard Coach's muffled laughter.

"I'll be there sometime tomorrow, Little sister. I miss you too. I'll see you then."

"Okay, Sheri. I love you."

"I love you, too. Give the phone back to Coach."

"Hey, Sweetheart. You just be careful tomorrow, Okay?" Coach said.

"Okay. I will. I always am." She replied. "I love you, Coach."

"I love you, too. See you tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye." She hung up, but didn't want to go back to her room as long as the all night slumber party was going on.

"Hey, Mrs. Moncrief, can I hang out in here for awhile?" She asked, walking into the main room of the dormatory their squad was staying in. "I'll be real quiet."

Their sponsor looked up from her paper. "Yeah, that'd be okay I guess."

"Thanks." She sat down on a sofa and looked up at the local news on the TV. Soon, she had dozed off.

*********************************************************************************

"Hey, Sweetheart, can you turn that music off and come up here?" Coach asked, stepping down into her basement practice room. "We have company."

"Okay, Coach," a twelve year old Sheri answered. "Be up in a minute."

She switched off her record player and threw a sweatshirt jacket over her leotard. Grabbing her other dance things from the counter, she ran up the steps to the kitchen.

Thier company was Micheal Berteir and his 12 year old son,Gerry. He and Alan Bosley were her best friends.

"Hey, Mr. Micheal," she said, going over to hug him. He was Coach's best friend and her Godfather. She loved to see him.

"Hey, there, Goergous," he replied, returning her hug. "You know you get prettier each time I see you."

She giggled.

Gerry rolled his eyes.

"Run upstairs and put some clothes on," Coach told her. "And wake your sister up too, please."

"Okay, Daddy." She slapped Gerry in the back of the head before running for the stairs to go up to her room.

She stopped in her 5 year old sister's room. Sheryl had been sent to bed after complaining of an earache. "Hey, Coach says it's time to get up. Are you feeling better?" The sleepy, sick child blinked at her. "Mr. Micheal is here." That got her sister up, since Sheryl loved him as much as Sheri did.

She skipped on in her room and changed into hot pants and a t-shirt. When she came back down, everyone was outside. Coach and Mr. Micheal was sitting in the porch swing and Sheryl was sitting on Micheal's lap. Gerry was in the yard throwing a football in the air and catching it. Sheri passed the adults, to sit on the steps and put her tennis shoes on.

She looked up just in time to see Gerry's football hit her in the arm. Hard. "Ow. Quit it, Jerk." She picked the ball up.

"GERRY!" Micheal scolded. "Son, why did you hit Sheri with the ball?"

"I wanted her to play catch with me," he shrugged. "I didn't mean to hit her." Least not so hard.

"You could have tried asking her," Micheal continued. "Now, apologize."

"I'm sorry," Gerry mumbled.

"So she can hear it," He commanded.

"I'M SORRY!"

"S'kay," she shrugged. She picked up the football and threw it back, just as hard, striking Gerry's chest.

"Sheridan!" This time, it was Coach's turn to fuss. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry." She walked out in the yard, mumbled, "JERK!" as she walked past Gerry. "Throw me the ball."

He threw it hard and fast, but she caught it with ease and tossed it back. This continued until she announced, "This is dumb. Let's play for points, so I can kick your butt already."

"Okay," Gerry agreed. "You get it to that tree," he pointed to a tree 30 or so yards behind him. "You get a point."

"Okay." She looked around. "You get it to the fence and you get a point."

"Fine," He threw the ball back at her. She caught it and took off in a wildly arching run to get past him. "One."

Then he scored, easily. Then she missed the pass. "Two," he declared. She jogged to the fence and grabbed the ball and took off running. He tackled her and pulled her down. "Gotcha," he laughed.

"Get off me!" She pushed him away and sat up. "This is stupid with just two people," she declared, mad because he tackled her. "I'm not playing anymore." It was well after dark. She stalked up the steps and flopped down in the swing their father's and Sheryl had long since vacated while they were absorbed in their games.

"You're just saying that because I was winning," Gerry replied, coming to sit down beside her. "And you can't stand to lose."

"I am not. We need Alan or somebody else to play with." She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Yeah," he had to admit that was true.

"You want a soda or something?" She asked suddenly jumping up.

"Okay."

She went inside and came back a few minutes later with a Dr. Pepper for him and a Tab for herself.

"Here." She shoved the bottle at him.

"Thanks."

She sat back down. "Are you ready for school to start again?"

"Ready for football to start, but school could stay closed," he smiled.

Sheri laughed. "I don't think it works that way."

They were quiet for a few minutes, both enjoying the cool evening after another hot Virginia day.

Then he snickered. "I can't believe you are going to be a cheerleader."

"Why not?" She asked, slightly offended. "I can't play football becuase girls aren't allowed too."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "You just ain't like those other girls I guess. You're different."

"Well, thanks a lot." She huffed. She raised her arm to punch him, but he caught her hand and held it.

"I didn't mean in a bad way or anything. I meant, like a good different." He stammered.

"Good different?" She lowered her hand, but he still held onto it.

"Yeah, like, you aren't all giggly and stuff when somebody tries to talk to you, and you're not always looking in the mirror or brushing your hair," he tried to explian. "Aw..., man, you're just cool."

"Thanks," she smiled. "But, I'll be cool as a cheerleader, too. And I'll be at all your's and Alan's games. I wish I could play, but the dumb ole school board won't let me, and this is the next best thing. Besides, it's kinda like my dance classes, 'cept not as hard."

"Yeah," he smiled at her. Then he looked away. "Sheri, can I kiss you?"

She couldn't believe she had heard him right. "What?"

"Can I kiss you?" He became even more nervous. "It's okay if you want to say no."

She looked at him for a few seconds then nodded. "Yes."

Akwardly, they pressed thier lips together. Then pulled away and sat in silence.

"Gerry," she broke the silence.

"Yeah?"

"You tell Alan I kissed you and I'll knock your teeth out." She wasn't kidding.

"Um..., okay." Lacing his fingers through hers he leaned back and made the swing rock. He wasn't about to tell anyone.

*******************************************************************************

"Sheri. Sheri. Honey, wake up." She opened her eyes. Mrs. Moncrief was standing over her.

"Sorry." She mumbled. "I must have dozed off."

"No problem," Barbara Moncrief smiled. "I just called an end to party up in your room, and I need to close up down here. Run on up and get in bed."

"Oh, great," Sheri thought. "Now everyone is going to think I'm an anti social snob." She really hadn't meant to stay gone the whole time.

As if reading her thoughts, Barbara said, "Don't worry. I told them you weren't feeling well and vacated rather than ruining thier fun."

"Thanks." She went to her room, flopped on the bed, visions of a sweet young man asking for a kiss dancing in her head as she fell asleep with no ideal that in Gettiesburg, PA the same young man, now older, was dreaming of a girl who wasn't always looking in the mirror or making him profess his love in front of the entire football team.

(This was supposed to be my Valentine to you all, but since AOL wouldn't let me online yesterday, it's a day late. Sorry.)