Most will probably tell me it’s karma and that I deserve it, they’d probably be right, but it doesn’t stop it hurting like a bitch. I’ve spent all my life working toward this point, toward regionals and my future and to watch it just fall away hurts like hell.
The whispers and gossip only get worse and I make my way inside the building. My only saving grace is that I haven’t seen any members of the squad. They’ll be outside in our usual spot trying to bag a player. I roll my eyes at the kind of behavior I was front and center of not so long ago. It’s amazing how quickly things can change.
Students’ stares burn into my back as I make my way toward my locker. In the past I’ve always loved that it’s close to the girls’ locker rooms, it made my life easier but as I get closer to possibly bumping into the squad, I start to wish it was situated at the other side of the school.
I’m just sorting my books out when a shadow falls over me. Swallowing down my nerves, I risk a look over my shoulder.
“Chelsea,” Miss Kelly, our cheer coach, says on a sigh. “I think we need to go and have a chat, don’t you?”
Dread churns in my stomach that she’s going to attempt a therapy session with me. If she thinks that she’s going to unearth any more than the counselors did at the center then she needs to think again. I’m not sure there’s a counselor on earth who could sort out the mess that my head and life is right now.
Grabbing the couple of books I need, I slam my locker closed and follow Kelly toward her office within the girls’ locker room.
I have serious mixed feelings where our cheer coach is concerned. She’s got a great reputation from her own cheer career and the teams she’s coached in the past. But I can’t help feeling like she’s lost her enthusiasm. That or it’s been misplaced onto Mr. Knight, one of the other gym staff. He’s married with a couple of kids but we’re all convinced they’re having an affair. She spends more of our training sessions either in the office with him or just markedly absent. It’s how I’ve ended up being more than just the squad captain, a role that I’m more than happy to take on board. I’ve been choreographing routines for as long as I can remember. Even before I lived here, dancing was my escape. I’d take my radio out to the fields behind where we lived and lose hours making up routines, teaching myself moves. I used to watch the cheer team at my school, when I was there, in awe. I wanted to be them so badly, but most days it was all I could do to get to class let alone anything else that would take up my time. But I wanted it, so fucking badly.
When I moved here, the cheer squad was the first thing I looked into. I was desperate to at least make something of my new life, hell knows I needed something to keep me from drowning as my world once again was flipped upside down. I might have found myself with incredible new parents who had enough money to give me everything I could need, but that was far from going to fix my issues. I had more of those fuckers on the day I was born than Derek and Honey had probably had all their lives.
Pushing away thoughts of my past from my mind, I drop down on the chair in front of Kelly’s desk.
“It’s so nice to have you back, Chelsea. It hasn’t been the same without you.”
“Really? It seemed to me on Friday night that no one had noticed I wasn’t there.”
“You’ve always been my best flyer, Chels. Of course we missed you.”
I quirk a brow at her. I don’t even remember seeing her on Friday night. She clearly has no idea what when down.
“Whatever. I want my squad back.”
“Um… I understand that, Chelsea. I know how much this squad means to you.”
“Do you? How? You’re never here. There wouldn’t even be a squad if it weren’t for me, let alone one that’s going to regionals in a few months,” I seethe.
“I’m sure you of all people can understand that life can be… complicated.”
“Yeah, I sure as fuck know that. Look,” I say, standing from the chair and pacing back and forth in front of her desk. “I know I fucked up. I’m willing to take responsibility for my actions and I’ll apologize to anyone, however you’d like me to. But I need my squad.”
Kelly stares at me, her eyes narrowing.
She can’t possibly know that I’m hiding things, can she? She probably knows me as well as my parents after all these years working side by side, but she can’t know.
“I know you do, Chelsea. But I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. You’ve been gone weeks and the girls have—”
“I don’t give a fuck. They were a mess on Friday night. They’ve trashed my routines, they were out of time, uncoordinated.”
“They’ve worked hard to compensate for you not being there.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
“Look, Chelsea—”
“No,” I interrupt. “Don’t Look, Chelsea, me. This is my squad, Kelly. My fucking squad.” I hate that my voice cracks and my bottom lip starts to tremble.
“I’m sorry, Chelsea. I need to focus on you, and right now, you need to get back into class and make sure you’re going to graduate.”
“Jesus, I didn’t go on an extended holiday. I went to school every day. I haven’t fallen behind. I will graduate.”
“Prove it. Meanwhile, I’ll speak to the squad, to Shelly, and see how they feel.”
“This is bullshit,” I spit, knowing full well that Shelly won’t take me back. She wants the fame and attention of being captain and to be able to control my life. Just like you used to, a little voice in my head says, but I push her down. There’s no point in focusing on the past. I need to fight for my future.
“Go to class, get those grades up. We’ve still got a few months before regionals. We’ll be ready no matter what.”
“You can’t go to regionals without me. I am this squad. They never would have had a shot without me.”
“Chelsea, I hate to say it, but maybe you should have been focused on that during the past few months instead of…” She waves her hand around not wanting to finish the sentence.
“Yeah well, shit happens, Kelly. I thought you of all people would understand that. How is Mr. Knight’s wife, by the way?”
Kelly turns beet red with anger. “Get to class, Chelsea, before you cause even more damage to your cheer career.”
“Whatever.” I pull the door open so hard it slams back against the wall.
Every set of eyes now filling the locker room now turn to me and who should be front and center but Shelly.
“Aw, you having a little tantrum because you didn’t get your way. Such a shame, right, girls? The all-powerful Chelsea Fierce has fallen from her throne, losing her crown on the way down. Mind you don’t hurt your ass when you hit the floor.”
“Fuck you, Shelly. This is my squad and you know it. You don’t have what it takes to make it anywhere near regionals. You’re unorganized, lacking dedication, you spend more time on your back with your legs open than you do training.” By the time I’ve finished, we’re practically nose to nose.
“Pfft, that’s rich. You’re the one who’s been with almost the entire football team.”
“Is that right?” I seethe. I know how I’ve made it look over the years, but everyone’s opinion of me is far from the truth.
“Who’s left? Just Shane probably, and I know for a fact that he wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole.”
“Is that right? I’d put money on having a better chance than you.”
An evil smile curls at her lips. “Of course, you just drug the ones who aren’t willing.”
My arm has moved before I even register, and my palm stings against her cheek.
“You bitch,” she squeals as the squad surrounds her. “You’re finished here, Chelsea. Get. Out.”
“I’m fucking leaving. But I’ll be waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” Victoria asks.
“For you to all be begging me to come back. I know you all want to win, and you know as well as I do that you need me.”
“No one needs you,
Chelsea. You’re nothing but a raging bitch.”
“Just wait,” I repeat as I back out of the locker room.
I keep my head high and my eyes locked on Shelly’s but inside I’m crumbling faster than I can control.
The hallway is empty when I stumble out, thank fuck because I’m on the verge of breaking.
No one needs you, Chelsea.
Shelly’s words run on repeat in my head and mix with those of my past that I’ve locked down in a little box.
My chest heaves as I fight not to lose control. I make it to the bathroom without anyone seeing me. I’m just about to push inside when a figure at the other end of the hallway catches my eye, but whoever it is disappears around the corner before I get a chance to see who it is.
Standing in front of the mirrors, I fight my need to cry. I refuse to allow them to break me, especially only minutes into my first day back.
I’m better than this. I’m stronger than this.
I refuse to be beaten down by Shelly and her band of bitches who should have my back, not hers.
After fixing my makeup, I walk out to the deserted hallway and make my way to the first class of the day.
It seems that if I had any ideas of slipping in unnoticed today then it’s all been shot to shit when I knock on my physics class door and walk inside.
Every single set of eyes drill into me, including that of the teacher.
“Oh… um… welcome back,” he stutters. “Please take your seat. We’ve only just got started.”
I nod, trying to appear totally unfazed by everyone’s attention. After all, attention is what I’ve craved all these years, it should come naturally. But as I make my way across the room toward an empty desk, all I want is for the ground to swallow me up.
I keep my eyes on the one person I know I’m safe beside. Ethan.
Our teacher continues with whatever he’s talking about as I fall into my chair and blow out a breath.
I’ve lost the attention of some, I can feel it, but the majority are still staring at me like I’m some alien creature they’ve never seen before.
“It’ll get better,” Ethan says, turning his back on most of the class. “It’s good to see you back, Chels.”
“I wish I could say it was good to be back.” I blow out a breath as I pull my book from my purse. “Thank you, Ethan. For the messages. For thinking of me.”
A sad smile pulls at my lips as he reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“Life can be tough. Sometimes we all need a friend.” A lump forms in my throat at his kindness. He could quite easily be the leader of the Chelsea hate campaign seeing as it was one of his best friends I stupidly went after, but thankfully, Ethan sees a little deeper than my bullshit decisions.
“I think you might be the only one I have left,” I mutter, more to myself than him, but he still hears.
“Just give everyone time. They’re pissed, rightly so. But this is your home, Chels. You’ll find your footing again.”
“But what if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll find new footing. Be a new you. Everything will be okay.”
I nod, wishing that I could feel just an ounce of his positivity.
I look at him, his kind eyes sparkle in a way I’ve never seen before and he looks happier than I think I’ve ever experienced.
“We looked for you at the party on Friday night.”
“I didn’t stay long, it was… intense.”
“One day at a time. Things will be fine, you’ll see.”
“Mr. Savage, Miss Fierce, I’m sure you’ve got loads to catch up on, but if you could please save it for lunch.”
“Sorry,” we both mutter, turning to focus on whatever it is we should be doing.
I sit back in my chair, aware that I’ve still got one too many sets of eyes on me and trying to block them out to focus. Kelly might have been right about one thing this morning. I really fucking need to graduate. And as the next few months go on, it’s only going to get harder, that I’m sure of.
12
Shane
As I watched her all but run toward the girls’ bathroom, every muscle in my body ached for me to follow her. She was upset, that much was obvious. I’d watched the squad run back into the locker rooms not long after she was dragged in there by Miss Kelly. There was never going to be a good outcome for her.
I’m just about to take a step toward where she disappeared when Zayn appears around the corner.
Taking a step back, I walk his way.
“Hey, man. How’s the hangover?”
“Fucking great,” I complain. “No better way to start a Monday at school.”
“So I hear that Chelsea has shown her face.”
I focus on the hallway ahead, but he keeps his eyes firmly on the side of my face. I know he’s suspicious from Saturday morning. He might not have said anything last night, but I saw the look on his face when I was dancing with Victoria.
“Well, I guess she couldn’t hide forever.”
“So you haven’t seen her?”
“Uh no. I went home for a shower and now here I am.”
“Right.”
“Right what?” I bark, already fed up with this conversation and his suspicion. I don’t need anyone digging into my history with Chelsea. The fewer people who know about that night and my fucked-up head, the better.
“Oh nothing. I’m just watching you, that’s all.” He gestures between his eyes and mine.
I raise a brow at him.
“Don’t act all innocent. I saw that thing between the two of you on the beach. You’re hiding shit.”
“Whatever. We’re late.” I turn away from him and toward my first class of the day, the sound of his laughter filters down to me. I don’t need him looking too closely, I really fucking don’t.
Grateful that she’s not in my class, I find my seat and slump down in the hope I can be ignored while I drown in my hangover and the memories of my bad decisions. Sadly, those bad decisions all include one person who stirs something inside me she shouldn’t.
Whispers and gossip ripple around the room and I hear her name mentioned more than once proving that no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape her. Maybe I should have followed her earlier and just got it over with.
She thinks she’s won sending me away like that on Saturday night. I should leave it there, but there’s this nagging voice within me that demands I don’t let her have the last word.
By some miracle, I get through the entire morning without seeing her. I was expecting her in math, but rumor had it that she was with the guidance counselor. Fine by me seeing as Zayn was sitting beside me just waiting to discover something. He’s like a fucking dog with a bone, and I fear he’s not going to stop until I give him something.
“Can you believe she just walked in like nothing ever happened?” Camila asks Amalie when I drop down beside them with my lunch.
“Jesus, not you too,” I complain. “She’s all anyone’s talked about all morning.”
“Well, it’s quite big news. What’s got your panties in a twist?” Camila asks, studying me.
“Nothing. I’m just sick of hearing it all. Of course she turned up, this is her school.”
“We know that. She’s just not said anything about anything. You’d think she could at least apologize.”
“I’m sure she will. I can’t imagine walking back in after everything was easy. Give her a break.”
“Whoa,” Camila says, holding her hands up in shock. “Are you actually defending her after what she did to you?”
“No, I’m just saying that it must be hard. I’m bored with hearing it, imagine how she feels.”
“I don’t really give a shit how she feels, Shane. She hurt three of the most important people in my life not so long ago. I couldn’t have cared less if she never returned.”
“Bit harsh?” Amalie asks, making Camila shrug.
“Don’t say you agree with him.”
“I’ve been the school outcast. I
t’s not something I’d wish on anyone.”
“Even your worst enemy?”
“She’s not exactly my worst enemy. She’s just… lost, I guess.”
I nod because I have a feeling that Amalie has just hit the nail on the head perfectly.
“Well, I think you’re both fucking crazy and should be heading up the we hate Chelsea movement that’s sweeping through the school.” Camila is soon distracted when Mason steps up behind her and drops a kiss to her temple. “Hey, baby. You’ll back me up here…” she goes on to explain her point of view and when Mason sides with Amalie and I, Camila’s face starts to turn pink with frustration.
“Just give her a break. She fucked up.”
“Fucked up. She fucking drugged you.”
“Yeah, I know. But no one died, we’re all good. Stop getting involved and maybe just focus on your own life.”
“Ugh, please. We don’t need to see that much tongue,” Amalie complains when Mason pulls Camila onto his lap and drops his lips to hers. Camila flips her off over Mason’s shoulder.
“Because you’re so much better with Jake?”
“Meh. Anyway, it doesn’t look like you’re one to talk. Care to explain this?” Amalie asks, pulling her cell out and opening Instagram on an image of Victoria climbing me like a tree.
“If I knew there was going to be photographic evidence, then I might have put up a bit more of a fight.”
Amalie looks from her cell to me and back again, her face full of amusement. “You put up any kind of fight?”
I think back to my fuzzy memories of the night before. “I have no idea. There was too much vodka.”
“Shane, Shane, Shane. I thought you were better than them.”
I shrug. “Boys will be boys.”
“Ain’t that the truth. I just thought you had better taste than a cheer slut.”
“Me too,” I admit. “Sadly, there wasn’t much choice.”
An eruption of noise at the cafeteria entrance cuts off our conversation and when we look over we find none other than Amalie’s boyfriend lapping up the congratulations from our win on Friday night. Ethan is beside him with the entire cheer squad behind them.
FIERCE: A High School Enemies to Lovers Romance (Rosewood High Book 4) Page 8
