Los acosadores atacan a una nueva animadora negra, sin saber quién es su padre…

Jake Morrison and his friends were disgusted when they saw Zara Washington make the cheer squad at Westfield High. To them, she was a black girl who didn’t belong among their traditionally white cheerleaders. So they tried to get rid of her the only way they knew how, by attacking.

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But what Jake couldn’t see beneath Zara’s composed silence was tactical training from her Navy Seal father. They thought she was helpless, thought she’d crumble like all his previous victims. He was catastrophically wrong, and Zara Washington was about to teach him exactly what happened when entitled bullies fatally underestimated a soldier’s daughter.

The gymnasium buzzed with nervous energy as 23 girls lined up for final cheer team announcements. Zara Washington stood third from the left, her hands steady at her sides despite the hammering in her chest.

She’d nailed every routine, hit every mark, and smiled until her cheeks ached during three grueling days of tryouts. Ladies, you’ve all shown incredible spirit and dedication, Coach Peterson began, her clipboard held like a shield. This year’s Westfield High Varsity Cheer Team will represent our school with pride and excellence.

Zara’s eyes swept the gym, taking in the sea of blonde ponytails and spray tans surrounding her. She caught sight of the football team filtering in through the side doors. Their practice had just ended.

Jake Morrison led the pack, his quarterback’s swagger evident even in sweaty practice gear. Tyler Knox flanked him, thick arms crossed over his chest, while Brandon Mills trailed behind, desperate to belong. The following girls have earned their place on this year’s squad, Coach Peterson continued.

She read through the list alphabetically, each name met with squeals and embraces, Zara Washington. The words hit her like lightning, she’d made it, actually made it. Around her, congratulations mixed with barely concealed surprise from some of the other girls.

Zara kept her expression controlled, professional, the way her father had taught her. From across the gym, she felt eyes on her. Jake Morrison was staring, his jaw tight.

He leaned over to whisper something to Tyler, who shook his head with disgust. Brandon just looked confused following his friend’s lead. Congratulations to our new Eagles, Coach Peterson clapped.

Team meeting tomorrow after school. We have a lot of work ahead of us before homecoming. As the celebration continued around her, Zara gathered her gym bag and headed for the exit.

The football players had positioned themselves near the doors, a convenient coincidence that made her pulse quicken. Excuse me, she said politely, trying to pass. Jake stepped slightly to the right, not quite blocking her path, but making it clear she had to squeeze by.

So you’re the new addition to our cheer squad. That’s right, Zara met his gaze directly. Interesting choice by Coach Peterson.

Tyler’s voice carried just enough volume for nearby students to hear. Very progressive. I earned my spot just like everyone else, Zara replied evenly.

Brandon shifted uncomfortably, but stayed silent as Jake smiled, the kind of smile that never reached the eyes. Oh, I’m sure you did. It’s just that our fans have certain expectations about what their cheerleaders should look like.

The words hung in the air like smoke. Other students slowed their conversations, sensing tension. And what exactly should they look like? Zara asked, her voice steady despite the heat building in her chest.

You know, Jake shrugged, traditional, the kind of girls who represent Eagle Pride, blonde hair, school spirit, the whole package. Like Barbie dolls? Zara tilted her head slightly. Tyler stepped forward.

Like girls who belong here. Girls who understand what this school is about. I understand perfectly.

Zara adjusted her bag strap. This school is about excellence, academics, and representing our community with pride. That’s exactly what I plan to do…