You and I had different high school experiences. I was a cheerleader, ran track, fairly popular all American girl next door. You on the other hand, hung out under the bleachers, smoking and listening to loud rock music. But the one thing you had that I didn't was you were out, while I was still in the closet.

Cut to college, I've decided to stop denying myself and be honest. I dated a few girls, slept with a few more, and by junior year, I was pretty comfortable with my lesbian self. Somehow, despite our different backgrounds, we ended up dating. We had gotten pretty serious, started talking about high school. I brought up that I was a cheerleader, and you brought up that you hated the cheerleaders at your school.

I didn't take it personally, I certainly knew girls like the ones you described, and while I did my best to stay out of it, I certainly didn't stop it. But that being said, I wanted to do something to make up for those mean girls. So last weekend, I went to my parents and dug up my old uniform, telling you I had a surprise for you.

The fateful night came, I sat on my bed, waiting for you to come over for your surprise. I dressed in my uniform, a tight forest green skirt and top, just a bit of midriff showing where a white shirt was meant to go, my hair back in a high pony tail.

I heard you open the door to my apartment. I left it unlocked, wanting you to get the full effect. You came back to my room, seeing me sitting on my knees in bed, looking up at you.

"Hey baby. Want to fuck a cheerleader?"

Small side note, I wasn't actually a cheerleader in high school. Just inspired by the outfits.