Looking back at my earlier high school days, I can honest say I was a clumsy kid. The one who would take a pratfall slipping on thin air. Did you need to see someone who once through his lunch into the air due to someone pushing him to the ground?

My hands raised high, right here.

Later in high school, it was more or the less…who am I kidding, it was worse: My junior year had me make it into the local paper due to be being run down by a pack of sheep. I was supposed to count them—literally—for the FFoA (Future Farmers of America). I wanted to be helpful, so I told Mr Rooster I’d volunteer on that rainy day. I never believed sheep could be so vicious and strong enough to break down a holding pen gate, but there I was, staring down at twenty sheep who were not afraid of mowing me down.

The mob bounced me around like a red, rubber ball. There were about ten other students in the vicinity who, instead of coming to my defense, simply took out their cell phones and had a few videos of TikTok and someone’s Instagram channel. The only one who tried to help me was Rhiannon Donahue. She was a cheerleader who came from a family of farmers.

Rhiannon had dark black hair and always wore clothes of deep red or green. That day no different as her jacket was green. I’ll admit it, I liked her. I knew there was no way I could ask her to anything. I never believed in the “she’s out of my league” mindset, but; as a living testament to Murphy’s Law, it was dangerous to even approach her.

That, and the crew she traveled with: The Jefferson High School Jaguar cheerleader squad. Stereotypically, there were three types of cheerleader squads:

The “mean girls”—the one where each member of the squad ranks on par with Miranda Priestly—don’t breathe in their general direction

The “party party”—eternally happy…even if the quarterback winds up in traction and the waterboy dislocates his arm.

The “Kim Jones Uns”—Ranking above the “the mean girls.” This squad would throw actual shade at you from across the football field or high school gym. They considered themselves to be the top of the student body hierarchy and woe to the one who got in their way.

Our cheerleaders—were the socialist sorority when they were all together. Separately, they had individuality. Together though, they moved, thought, and talked as one. I was sure that if there was another cheerleader in the FFoA, then Rhiannon would have left me beneath the feet of mauling mutton. Knowing that, I assumed Rhiannon would avoid getting her hands dirty, but she took the time to wind through the flock and grabbed my hand.

She pulled me to the side gate where I jumped and fell face first into what I hoped was just mud.

“You okay, Mike?”

I lifted my head, nodded, and then rose to my feet. My clothes were caked in what was definitely not mud.

“Just peachy,” I replied, secretly wanting to die at the very stop.

“You should try to go clean up.”

“Yeah, umm, I’ll change into my PE clothes,” I replied and walked away.

“Hey!” She called back.

I slowly turned around, waiting for some sort of line like “Hey Mike, do you like sheep thrills” or “ewe, what’s that smell?” But no, those were some of the comments on a later YouTube post.

“You sure you’re good? I’ll let Mr. Rooster know what happened.”

I nodded again, waved, and lumbered to the school looking like Swamp Thing. I hoped to heaven the gym would be empty, but alas, it was filled with a PE class and all activity stopped as I stomped in, leaving a mix of mud and manure.

I peeled off my clothes and walked to the shower to clean my skin of the green, mud-like scrub streaked across my face. The shower took seemingly forever as I had to keep pushing the button for soap and pressing another button to keep the water flowing. Maybe ten minutes later I was dressed in my PE clothes, which, thankfully had only a mild scent to “Eau de Locker Room,” and walked out of locker room with my dirty clothes packed into my gym bag as the current PE class walked into the locker room.

“I heard, ewe, had issues with the sheep,” a voice said. The voice was of my friend, Daniella. She had been my friend for so long she was just about my sister. We had no romantic attachment each other. We discussed it once and we both agreed it would be a bad idea. That, and Daniella hoped to one day date Jojo Siwa and she wanted to keep that option open.

“Go ahead and laugh, Danny, and tell me another one.”

“That’s all I have for now, but if you don’t take the lead on the situation, it will just allow everyone to make it into a huge joke.”

“I know,” I nodded as I heard someone in the sea of student bleat.

“Oh, I know. You need to ram on through.”

“Funny, Danny.”

“I bet you looked liked someone who was run over by a Lamb-orghini.”

“That one was kind of funny,” I replied. “Do you know who came to help me?”

We walked to our lockers and Danny looked at me, waiting for me to answer.
“Who?”

“Rhiannon.”

“That’s un-baa-lievable,” Danny replied. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Did you get to talk to her afterwards? ‘Cause she’s going to deny everything.”

I grabbed my backpack and stuffed in my books and notebooks

“If it’s on video, she can’t say her hand didn’t touch mine.”

“True, but she will make it all about herself. You’ll just be considered this little lost lamb.”

“Okay, cease with the cheap jokes.”

“You mean…sheep, right?”

“Not amused, Danny,” I replied as I closed my locker.

“Sorry, Mike. That was terrible situation to be in. Quick question: Would you have approached her if you hadn’t been..run over by…I’m sorry, I can’t finish that sentence without adding something and laughing.”

“Maybe, but you only get one chance to make a first impression.”

“Bah…I mean, ha, that is such a cop out.”

“Yeah, like I’ll ever get another chance to get near again without the rest of the collective near her, like they are now,” I low-key pointed down the hall to a gang of girls taking over the hallway like a teenage blob, swallowing all of the happiness out of the hallways.

“I hear she puts out in the right conditions,” Daniella replied in a loud whisper.

Story inspired by the song “Unyielding Wish” (Yuzurenai Negai)