Yasmin and Sasha: Can I do a piece about you?
“Can I do a piece about you?” She tries to make it sound casual, off-handed, as if she hasn’t been planning this conversation for over a week, fine-tuning the details in her mind.
Sasha blinks, putting her homework aside. “Who, me?”
“Yeah, you. Do you see anyone else in here?” She teases, but it’s weak.
“Why would you want to write about me?” Confusion is better than offense or outright refusal, at the very least.
Yasmin takes a breath, searching her mind for the spiel she’s prepared. It comes out in bits and snatches; hardly the eloquent speech she hoped for. “It’d be a human interest story. Because you’re-everyone just knows you from cheerleading, you know? But that’s not-you do lots of different things. You sing, you volunteer at the shelter, and you still find a way to stay on top of your class work. You’re so much more than-”
Than a stupid cheerleader. I never should have said that, I’m sorry, and this is the only way to make it right.
“-than people realize,” she finishes, wincing. It doesn’t even scratch the surface.
Sasha’s quiet for a long moment, and Yasmin half-wonders if she heard everything Yasmin didn’t say. Finally, she grins.
“Let’s do it. But Yaz, if I say something really dumb, promise me you’ll leave it out of the article.”
A coil of tension in her chest releases, and Yasmin giggles. “Not a chance,” she shoots back. “Now, let’s start with...”