The Brigade Latina

 

They were very appropriately known on campus as the Brigade Latina. The girls weren’t really sure when the name started to circulate, but once they heard it, they embraced it. All five girls were, in fact, latina, all five were on the university cheer team, all five were members of the Latina Studies Committee in the Latin Studies Department, and all five also just happened to be members of the same sorority.

The girls never actually set out to spend as much time together as they did, but between their studies, their committees, the cheer team, and living at the same sorority house, it seemed like they were never apart. To the outside observer, it might have seemed a little co-dependent, but the girls were honestly perfectly fine with being that involved in each other’s lives. They each took comfort in it in many ways.

Monica was thinking on that very thing, the closeness of their relationship, the night it all came together without any of them really trying, planning, or even really knowing beforehand what was about to happen. For Monica, it was the walk from cheer practice to where the sorority van picked them up after their evening practice, where her mind really started to think about the difference between friendship and a relationship, or even more so, the plurality of the five girls’ friendships, and dare she say, relationships.

So much of their lives felt so very routine by now. The routine was comforting. The girls were three months into the cheer competition season and were in the part of the year they called the cozies. True, they were exhausted from the drills and the lingering rhythm of chants were deeply stuck in their heads, but what was so cozy was how well the girls knew each other at this point, how well they knew their routines, and how routine their days had really become.

Also, of particular note to Monica on this evening walk across campus was the way the five of them kept drifting closer together, shoulders brushing, laughter lingering just seconds too long. Even just three months ago, even though the girls had known each other for many years, this new closeness was not there. This was something altogether different, altogether more.

Monica felt she noticed it first because in a way, it was her job to as cheer team captain and the most senior member of the sorority. The way Stephanie’s hand stayed hooked in Jacqueline’s arm even after the joke they were laughing at had passed. The way Blanca leaned into Ratita when she laughed, like balance wasn’t the only reason. The way Ratita, usually so composed, seemed softer tonight, quieter, but more present. The way the girls were constantly sitting in each other’s laps.

And the way Monica herself kept glancing at all of them, like she was trying to memorize something that hadn’t happened yet.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Stephanie asked suddenly, narrowing her eyes.

Monica blinked away from her thoughts just a bit. She looked at the way Stephanie’s short little red and white pleated skirt danced in the evening air as she walked. The way her firm stomach looked so smooth peeking out from underneath her red and white matching crop sweater. The way her hair swayed, the cute little smile. All things Monica noticed before, but now, were long, lingering thoughts. “Like what?” Monica aked.

“Like you know something we don’t,” Stephanie smiled. She, too, let her glance linger. She too was noticing every little thing about how Monica looked in that cute little cheer uniform.

Jacqueline leaned in as they walked. “Oh my god, she does. Monica, what is it?”

Monica laughed, shaking her head. “Nothing. I just…I like nights like this.”

Blanca smirked, joining the conversation. “You mean nights where we’re all together and no one is yelling counts at us?”

“Exactly,” Monica said.

Ratita looked at Blanca a little longer than the others did. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Me too. There’s just something about all five of us in our matching little uniforms, in the night air, walking, working, striving for the same goals. We’re…we’re such a little team.”

Monica lingered a bit on what to say to that – words of agreement or encouragement – but ultimately in the end, she decided to leave it at just saying once again, “Exactly.”

It was extremely rare for the girls to all get into the van, sit through the van ride, and then get out at the sorority house, all pretty much without another word. It was as if they all somehow subliminally agreed that what Ratita had said was all that needed to be said at that point. Monica noted very intently that while she sat in the front passenger seat of the van, which she usually did, that Stephanie and Jacqueline paired up together in the first bench seat, and even though there was room for at least one of them on that same bench seat, Blanca and Ratita opted to sit together in the second bench seat. The girls wore their seatbelts, which Monica always insisted on, but they were sitting very close. Stephanie and Jacqueline held hands together between them and Blanca had one arm behind Ratita’s shoulders, the other resting on top of Blance’s skirt on her thigh. It wasn’t a far ride, but they sat like that the entire way back to the sorority house.

But by the time the girls reached Monica’s room, they had started talking again, laughing and being a little playful, less like teammates decompressing and more like something unspoken building between them.

The post-practice debriefing and committee gab session started as planned, as normal. Monica led the conversation and Blanca had her notebook open, jotting down notes. The girls laughed, The girls discussed. Ideas bounced. They talked about representation—how some girls in the committee seemed to feel disconnected from their roots, while others seemed to feel like they had to perform theirs. They talked about language—who spoke Spanish fluently, who understood but felt shy, who had grown up without it and felt judged. They talked about colorism. That part lingered. Ratita spoke carefully at first, then more openly. About feeling overlooked sometimes. About assumptions people made. About how even within their own community, there were layers that were sometimes based on their skin tones.

Blanca reached over without thinking and rested her hand over Ratita’s, both girls’ hands resting together on Blanca’s little red and white pleated skirt. It was small. Natural. But no one missed it. As Monica chimed it, Ratita glanced down at their hands, then up at Blanca. Instinctively, the girls interlaced their fingers. “Thank you,” Ratita said softly, smiling at Blanca in a way Blanca had never seen her smile before. Blanca squeezed her hand a little. “Always,” Blanca said. While she spoke away, Monica watched that moment like it mattered. Because it did.

Hours later, the structure of the meeting had dissolved completely. The formal energy and controversial topics had been replaced by something looser, softer. Monica was the first, at this point. While still engaged in the conversation, she stood up from the large bed that all five girls had been sitting on for hours now and slid down her skirt. She followed by taking up and pulling off her crop sweater, and finally removing her white full back underbriefs. While each of the girls still engaged intently in their conversation, each one watched, each one drank in Monica’s white lace bra and white lace little thong.

The only thing to mark the occasion Monica did was to sigh, “Oh, that feels so much better,” as she returned to sitting on the bed. One by one, the other shifted into just their underwear—comfortable, pretty. Each girl peeled off her red and white cheer shell, her matching little pleated skirt, her white cotton underbriefs, revealing the sexy lace bra and thong panty they were wearing underneath.

Stephanie was in yellow, Jacqueline was in a traditional pink, Blanca was in a softer, baby pink, and Ratita was in a soft tan bra and white lace thong. Needless to say, while they were still talking, once all five girls were on the bed in nothing but their bras and panties, something had changed. Not dramatically, but just enough that each girl definitely noticed.

Stephanie scooted over close enough to Jacqueline that their crossed legs were touching. Blanca took the cue and moved closer to Ratita, their shoulders touching fully now. Monica watched with a smile, still feeling very much like part of the circle.

“Okay,” Stephanie said, grinning, “enough sorority business, enough cheer business, enough committee business. It’s time for truth or dare. But we’re playing for real this time.”

 

Jacqueline raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Stephanie said, “no boring answers.”

Ratita smirked slightly. “Dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Stephanie said.

Even though what Stephanie said in the beginning sounded so ominous, the first few rounds of the game were easy—laughter, teasing, harmless confessions. But then, questions shifted.

“Who here do you trust the most?” Blanca asked.

“Right now?” Jacqueline said. “All of you. Equally.”

“Cop-out,” Stephanie said.

“No, it’s not,” Jacqueline replied, softer now. “It’s true. I love you girls.”

There was a pause.

Then Ratita spoke. “Same.”

Monica felt something tighten gently in her chest. Stephanie looked around at all of them, something thoughtful replacing her usual teasing expression. “Yeah,” she said. “Same.”

There was a bit of a pause, each of the girls taking in each other. It was Stephanie who changed the direction. “Jacqueline,” she said suddenly. “Truth or dare?”

Jacqueline narrowed her eyes. “Dare.”

Stephanie’s smile turned slow and deliberate. “I dare you,” she said, “to kiss someone on this bed.”

The air shifted instantly. Not heavy. But charged. Monica smirked because she knew that this is where the game was heading since the second she took off her cheer uniform.  Jacqueline blinked once. Then laughed, but it came out softer than expected. “You’re starting this early?”

“You said no boring dares,” Stephanie replied.

Blanca sat up slightly. “Wait—this just got interesting.”

Ratita didn’t say anything, but she was watching closely.

Jacqueline looked around at all of them, her confidence flickering just slightly. “Okay,” she said. Her gaze landed on Stephanie. Of course it did. “Come here,” Jacqueline said.

Stephanie didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, and for a second they just looked at each other—closer than before, smiles fading into something quieter. Then Jacqueline closed the distance. The kiss was soft. Quick. But real. When they pulled back, both of them were smiling—but differently now.

Blanca let out a low “Okayyyy.” Ratita shook her head, but she was smiling too. Monica felt her heartbeat pick up and little tingling to go along with it.

“Your turn,” Jacqueline said to Stephanie.

Stephanie didn’t even think. “Dare.”

Jacqueline grinned. “Kiss someone else.”

Stephanie laughed. “You’re evil.”

“Do it,” Blanca said.

Stephanie looked around the bed.

Her gaze moved past Monica, lingered briefly on Ratita… and then settled on Blanca. Blanca raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

Stephanie leaned closer. “You seem curious.”

“I am,” Blanca said.

“Then don’t overthink it,” Stephanie smirked. This time the kiss lasted a second longer. Still gentle. But intentional. Blanca’s hand came up instinctively, brushing Stephanie’s arm as they pulled apart.

“Okay,” Blanca said, a little breathless. “That’s… new.”

Ratita exhaled quietly, like she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.

It didn’t stop there. The game continued, but the energy had shifted completely now. Each dare built on the last. Each moment lingered a little longer.

Monica tried to stay composed, but when her turn came and Ratita asked her, “Truth or dare?” she didn’t miss a beat. “Dare,” she said.

Ratita’s gaze softened, but there was something steady in it. “Kiss someone you haven’t yet.”

Monica nodded and smiled. She looked at Stephanie, at Jacqueline, at Blanca, and then at Ratita. Ratita didn’t look away. “Okay,” Monica said quietly. She shifted closer. For a second, she wasn’t the confident one, the planner, the organizer, she was just Monica. And then, she leaned in. The kiss was gentle, but it held something deeper than the others—something quieter, more deliberate. Ratita responded just as softly. It was an amazing kiss. When they pulled back, neither of them spoke right away. Blanca smiled softly. Stephanie looked between them, eyes wide but warm. Jacqueline nudged a pillow closer, like she was grounding herself.

“Okay,” Stephanie said finally. “That one had feelings. I totally felt that.”

Monica laughed, but she didn’t deny it. Ratita didn’t either.

By the time the game faded out, they weren’t really playing anymore. They were just… close. Sitting together. Leaning into each other. Stephanie rested her head on Jacqueline’s shoulder. Blanca curled slightly toward Ratita again, more naturally this time. Monica found herself between them all, not separate—but connected to each in a different way.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Jacqueline asked softly.

“Do we have to?” Stephanie said.

Blanca smiled. “Maybe not tonight.”

Ratita nodded. “Tonight can just be… this.”

Monica looked around at all of them—the soft light, the closeness, the quiet understanding settling in.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just this.”

No one rushed to define it. No one pulled away. Instead, they stayed exactly where they were—letting the warmth of the night, the trust they had built, and the new, delicate spark between them exist without pressure. As the room grew quieter, the distance between them disappeared completely. Hands rested naturally. Shoulders leaned. At one point, someone laughed softly at nothing, and someone else squeezed their hand in response. There was kissing there was cuddling, there was playful laughter, there was moans filled with pleasure. The five girls literally melted into each other in a way that none of them had ever experienced before. And when sleep finally came, it came with all five of them still close—closer than they had ever been before. Not just as teammates. Not just as sisters. But as something still unfolding. Something they would figure out together…