“Fine.” Meghan crossed her arms. “Bore us with your rules if you must.”
“They aren’t my rules. We are a competition squad, we do not get to make up a dangerous routine without following the competition guidelines. You go to state with that stunt and you’ll be disqualified. Now sit down, and shut up for once in your life.”
“You’re making that up.” Meghan fumed.
“Oh, sit down and let her talk already,” Veronica said. “You won’t get a single vote from us if there’s even a chance we could be disqualified.”
Addie eyed the mat where she would normally sit, but her boot made that impossible.
“Your throne, madame.” Garrett placed a folding chair behind her.
“Thanks, Garrett.” Addie sat down, smiling when Garrett propped her foot up on a stool.
“Geekett!” The girls cheered. Garrett’s face went bright red as he smiled at their attention.
“Bring us water, geek,” Meghan ordered.
“Geekett!” The girls called again as he retreated. It was their new thing. Every time they saw Garrett the Geek, they cheered for him and sent him scurrying like their own personal errand boy. It seemed like he loved the attention, but Addie thought it was mean.
“We can cheer at games as a level-five squad.” Addie sat back in her chair. “But we have to compete as a level four. It takes time and patience to move up to a five, and unfortunately for the seniors, we are not there yet. A 2:2:1 360° pyramid is a level-five stunt we cannot add to our level-four routine. If Meghan had bothered to ask or even stopped to consider the rules of the sport, she wouldn’t have wasted your time changing our routine.”
The girls groaned and shot Meghan more than a few death glares. “Coach Perry asked about that, but Meghan said Perry didn’t know what she was talking about.”
Coach Perry was the girls’ basketball team coach. She stood in as cheer coach on paper, but she didn’t know much about the competition circuit. She was more or less adult supervision during away games than an actual cheer coach. Their team’s talent grew from a series of brilliant captains that came before them, each leaving the team with their legacy.
“Our routine is packed with level-four stunts we can do in our sleep,” Addison said. “It’s one of the highest difficulty ratings in our level. But there is room for improvement. We could add one new stunt, but we have to go about changing it through the proper channels. We still have time to submit an altered routine to the championship board, with Coach Perry’s approval, but we have to file the paperwork by next week. And we’ll need to submit a video of the new stunt as well.”
“I didn’t realize there was paperwork involved,” Meghan said, shrugging it off like it wasn’t her fault.
“It’s the state finals, Meghan, you can’t just show up with any routine and wing it.”
“Geekett!” the girls shouted as Garrett returned with a dozen water bottles he kept dropping as he made his way across the gym.
“You’re such a klutz.” Ashley laughed. “I love it.”
“We should make him our mascot!” Leslie clapped. “We could dress him up like a total freak-geek and give him pom-poms and his own routine!”
“He already has the headgear,” Veronica added. “It would be so hilarious.”
“Then he could be our errand boy while we travel,” Meghan said.
“I only have to wear the headgear for a few hours a day,” Garrett said. “And my orthodontist said I won’t need them by next year.”
The squad ignored him, still chattering about Geekett the mascot.
“Girls. Focus,” Addison said. “Leave Garrett alone. I want to see what you’ve been working on. Garrett’s going to record your stunts, and then I will decide which move—if any—should be added to our existing routine.”
“Agreed,” Meghan said, like she was still in charge and granting her approval for Addie’s adjustments. “Form up, girls.”
Addison moved to the bleachers, batting Garrett’s hands away when he tried to help her sit. “Move the chair,” she barked, gesturing at the folding chair he’d left on the mat.
“Oh, right, sorry.” He ran to retrieve the chair. Taking out his clunky phone, he started to record the girls warming up.
“Not now and not with that thing,” Addie snapped.
“It’s a satellite phone like the Navy Seals use. The video quality is superb.”
“Just use my phone, Garrett.” Addison rolled her eyes and handed him her iPhone.
She watched with a critical eye as the girls performed a series of complicated basket tosses, supermans, pop-up tucks, and Team USA–worthy tumbling exercises. It was a great routine, but they’d never make it past the initial judging. Part of her wished she had one more year with this team. They were so good, and after four years of hard work, she would never have a chance to compete as a level-five squad. They would probably make it to level five next year if they won state this year. And if she chose the right captain to follow in her footsteps. She watched Veronica, one of their best flyers. She was just a sophomore, but she’d joined the team her freshman year. She had the best potential to step up as captain after Addison.
“Brilliant!” Garrett whooped after the girls pulled off a flawless 2:2:1 pyramid stack. Now they just needed to hold it through the 360° march, and it would be a beautiful video clip to add to their growing portfolio. If Garrett would shut up.
“Zip it, Geekett,” Addison said, the nickname just slipping from her tongue. Guilt immediately shot through her. No one deserved to be called names. She looked to Garrett. “I’m sorry, Garrett. I just don’t want to have to edit that video, so we need to be quiet.”
In the end, after two runs through the routine, Addison calculated the difficulty level of each stunt and how it might fit into their level-four routine.
“Okay, girls, gather around,” Addison called. “This is how it’s going to work. We’ll put it to a vote, and everyone has to agree or we won’t change anything. Deal?”
“Deal.” The girls voiced their approval. Except Meghan, of course.
“Do we have a deal, Meghan?” Addison demanded.
“Whatever.” Meghan shrugged, sitting on the bleachers below Addison.
Garrett still filmed, fascinated by this deeper look into the politics of cheering. She wondered briefly if he’d turn this whole thing into a documentary. He seemed to be making short video clips and sending them to himself.
“Our current routine is a 4.72 in difficulty. We can add one superman stunt to take it to a 4.87, but that gives us very little wiggle room if the judges decide to score us any higher in difficulty. My calculations are based on the recommendations of the championship board, and I’ve triple-checked it, but once we’ve submitted this addition, they will calculate the difficulty, and if we scale too close to a 5.0, they won’t approve the addition. And even if we are approved, if the judges at the actual event think we’ve scaled too close to a level five, we could get disqualified.”
Several girls murmured their concerns. No one wanted to put themselves through such hard work only to get disqualified on a technicality.
“However, as long as they score our difficulty level below a 5.0, we will qualify for our level, and we’ll probably have it in the bag as long as we don’t make any major mistakes during the performance. No one else is going to come to finals with anything over a 4.82 in difficulty. If we pull it off and we win, the team will move up to a level-five squad next year.”
“Who cares about next year?” Meghan scowled.
“Um, we do.” Veronica scowled right back. “Three of you are graduating, but there are nine of us who’d like to have another chance at state next year. And maybe even nationals.”
Nationals? Addison thought about the possibility, and she liked it. Leaving her squad with a chance at nationals was exactly the kind of legacy she wanted to give them.
“I will take myself and the other seniors out of the vote,” Addison said. “Those of you who will
be here next year get to decide. Do we keep it safe, or do we push the boundaries? It’s up to you.”
“Why don’t I get a vote?” Meghan snapped.
“Oh, shut up, Meghan,” Garrett shouted, his face red with anger. “It’s not your squad or your decision.”
“Ohhhh, Geekett’s got backbone.” Veronica laughed. “You tell her, Geekett.”
“Watch it, geek boy, you don’t want to cross me.” Meghan snarled. “I will end you.”
“Everyone, shut up and vote. Hands in the air to keep it safe?” Addison asked.
Three sophomores tentatively raised their hands.
“We agree.” Meghan and Ashley raised their hands too.
“Ignore them,” Addie said. “Those for pushing it?” The rest of the team shot their hands in the air.
“All right then, we have a new stunt to work into this routine, and we have a week to nail it. Let’s get started with another practice tomorrow evening after I’ve had a chance to clear it with Coach Perry.”
Veronica started clapping and hopping in place, revving the girls up. “All right! We’ve got this, girls.”
“Phone, Garrett.” Addison held out her hand.
“This is so exciting.” He dropped down on the bench beside her.
“You can go.”
“Are you sure? I can stay to help you to your car. And what about physical therapy?”
“I’m sure. I appreciate your help these last few weeks, but I’m good now. And I’m cleared to drive myself. Besides, I’m sure you have better things to do than follow me around.” She turned her attention back to her squad.
The gym door slammed shut a moment later.
Her phone chirruped with an alert from No BS, and Addie smiled. That sound was quickly becoming her favorite sound in the whole world.
—@DontTouchMyBooks: When does Anne Shirley get her head out of her ass and fall madly in love with Gilbert Blythe?
Addison laughed, her attention fully on BookBoy as the squad finished and cleaned up for the day.
—@ShutUpAndDrive: How are you done with Little Women already?
—@DontTouchMyBooks: It got really good so I finished it. I ugly cried when Beth died. I challenge any man to read that and not shed a tear. But I’m already on Anne of Avonlea. How many books are there?
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Nine ;) But you read hella fast and I didn’t give you gargantuan tomes to read like you and your epic fantasies.
—@DontTouchMyBooks: Nine? Just tell me when they get together?
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Um, well Gil gets sick.
—@DontTouchMyBooks: Woman, did you give me another book where someone dies? I hate you.
—@ShutUpAndDrive: I’m on Stone of Mercy and you have a lot of explaining to do. Charles and Kaitlyn can’t be together? At all?? Ever? This is a terrible series.
—@DontTouchMyBooks: Her magic would kill him. Sorry not sorry. But how much do you love Ned?
—@ShutUpAndDrive: He’s my favorite wizard ever.
—@DontTouchMyBooks: I can give you the Cliff Notes version of book three. It will just piss you off because it’s not really about Charles and Kaitlyn as much. Book four is amazing though.
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Heading home now to do some reading. I’ll be ready for those Cliff Notes soon.
—@DontTouchMyBooks: You read hella fast too. Those books are huge. TTYL and drive safe.
Addie walked to her car with a huge smile on her face. Talking to BookBoy was the best part of her day. With him, she could let her walls down and be herself. And there was nothing Addie loved more than talking about books with someone who really got it.
But what did it say about her that her favorite person was an anonymous voice on the other end of a text message?
8
Julian
She didn’t realize what he saw in her. It wasn’t her beauty—though there was plenty of that. Something deeper existed behind those crystal eyes, something he had to explore. He wasn’t ready to give up on her.
Julian pulled his hands back from the keyboard as he repeated his own words back to himself. Yeah, that was good. He lifted his eyes from the dim screen, blinking rapidly as he adjusted to the too-bright sunlight.
Grass bent around him as a faint breeze lifted the hair on his neck. He sat atop the hill looking down at Defiance Falls. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see the tumbling water, but in the distance, the river feeding it sparkled like the diamond he knew it wasn’t.
Why did a place of tragedy bring him so much peace?
He wasn’t the only one. Peyton and Cam spent an odd amount of time at the falls too. He never understood their fascination with the place until today.
Until he stood in the middle of the school hall, students rushing around him. Addison didn’t avoid his eyes anymore, but she didn’t make an effort to speak to him either. He’d done that when he ended their conversation in the kitchen.
He closed his eyes, remembering how she’d breezed through the hall, graceful even in that awful boot. The crutches were gone, but that poor underclassman continued to follow her like a puppy as she slipped an arm around Becks’ waist, convincing him to walk her to class.
Julian couldn’t dislike Becks. There probably wasn’t a person alive who could. But it made Julian regret the person he was, and that wasn’t him. He didn’t let anyone else make him feel bad about himself.
And now, unable to sit in a class full of his peers, he’d missed another day of school. Instead, choosing the solitude of the river. Few people entered the park near the falls during the weekday, so he had the place to himself.
Julian looked back down at his laptop, realizing he’d gotten three thousand words written in the past two hours. That was a record for him. He smiled. Few things gave him the satisfaction that getting words into a book did.
He scratched his jaw, his eyes focusing on the river in the distance. Cooper would be hysterical if he knew of Julian’s hobby—that writing this love story was the only thing keeping him sane most days. It allowed him to put everything he felt into the words, draining him of emotion so he could get through the day.
Backing up the book file, he shut down his computer and closed the lid. Leaning back against a tree, he closed his eyes, imagining his next scene. The big kiss.
Julian always told people he didn’t need friends, but he was wrong. He needed his book friends, the characters who didn’t judge and listened when he needed to talk. No, he wasn’t crazy, though some days he wondered. His phone dinged, the sound specific to the No BS private messenger. He opened his eyes, a smile tugging his lips when he saw a message from LitGirl.
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Is it graduation yet?
—@DontTouchMyBooks: Bad day?
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Ugh, is there a good day at this school?
—@DontTouchMyBooks: Yep, the ones you skip.
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Touche.
He laughed. If there was someone at Twin Rivers High he wanted to know more about, it was LitGirl, but she never let him know anything that could reveal her identity. Part of him was glad for that, because he feared if they knew who each other was, these conversations would stop.
And he definitely didn’t want that to happen.
Checking the time on his phone, he realized he had an hour to get home, change, and head to the diner for his shift. As if on cue, his stomach growled, reminding him he’d missed lunch. He patted his stomach. “Soon, little buddy.”
He slid his laptop into his backpack and jumped to his feet. His car was the only one in the lonely lot. Once inside, it only took a few minutes to get home. As he walked in the door, his phone buzzed again.
—@ShutUpAndDrive: Are you working tonight?
—@DontTouchMyBooks: Always.
She didn’t know where he worked, just that it was basically his life. He wasn’t a complainer. The diner provided their family with a very nice life, and most of what he made went into his college fund—at his parents’ insistence. They didn’t know
he questioned the whole college thing. Cooper had been Big Ten bound. Peyton was the family genius headed on scholarship to MIT.
And Julian? He tested well—very well—and had some offers because of that, but he just wanted to graduate. He’d done five years of high school and had no desire to sit inside a classroom for another minute after walking across that stage.
He thundered up the stairs, wanting to change quickly and grab a snack before heading to the diner. Forty-five minutes later, he walked out the door.
Peyton stood behind the counter when he entered. Of course, she was early. Julian loved his sister, but it didn’t mean he was blind to the fact she was basically a parent’s dream.
Julian shoved his backpack in the cubby under the counter, hoping he had time when they got slow to work on the homework he’d neglected. Peyton turned to face him. “Warning, Mom is on the warpath.”
Julian sighed. “What is it this time? Did dad eat all her cupcakes again?” True story. When their dad got stressed, he ate. One day, their mom came in to work to find all the cupcakes she’d made to sell gone. She blamed Cooper and Julian until their father finally fessed up.
Peyton laughed as her eyes found their dad at the kitchen window, peering out at them. “No. She got a phone call from the school and her face got all stormy like it does. I’m perfect, so it must have something to do with you.”
The C Word: Redefining Me (Book 3) Page 6
