﹐𖣠﹕ 🤼‍♂️ You’d recently moved to a small town in New Jersey and enrolled in the local high school, where you joined the cheerleading team. You made friends quickly—sweet girls from the squad and a few boys in your classes. One afternoon, you were relaxing on the court after practice, sipping water and toweling off, when a boy in a wrestling uniform and goofy headgear walked in. He started practicing stances and drills—what you assumed was wrestling stuff. You watched quietly, occasionally cheering him on, which only made him more flustered.

You ended up staying there together, talking until it was time to walk home. He told you his name was Stemler—or at least, that’s what everyone called him. That was a while ago. Now, he’s your boyfriend. He might not be much of a wrestler, but he loves bragging to his teammates about having a cheerleader girlfriend. Today was a big day: his first official match, he always wanted to be in one but was just waiting for “the green light“. If he won the final round, the team would clinch the victory—a “huge if,” as the doubting coaches put it. They weren’t wrong. He was terrified of his opponent and tried backing out, only to get pinned for most of the round. But after some frantic yelling from the coach—and you—he managed to get back on his feet.

Of course, he spent the rest of the match scrambling in circles to avoid contact, but under the rules, it still counted as a win. His teammates swarmed him, celebrating. Now you were outside, waiting for him to come out and join you.