by Penny Wylder
For the next hour, the current members of the squad coach us. We learn two routines and a dance, each one highlighting a specific skill. We’ll perform them as a group, and after that, if we make the cut, solo. That’s when I’ll get to show off my tumbling skills. But right now I’m over the moon that I was able to go to that cheer camp and that I spent as much time as I did rehearsing the routines. I already know the ones they’re teaching. It’s a good thing, too, because I keep being distracted.
Carter is watching me. I can feel his eyes on me, and every time I dare to glance over there, his gaze locks with mine. And it’s not just a friendly gaze. Carter’s eyes are filled with heat, and unfortunately, I know exactly what kind of heat. The kind of heat that made us tangle on a tiny bed together, skin against skin. When I see him looking at me, his eyes almost look…hungry. For me. It makes me feel short of breath, and focusing on the instructions given to us nearly impossible.
It doesn’t matter where I am, as our groups move across the gym to different stations to review the routines, Carter’s eyes find me. I should probably find it uncomfortable, but I don’t. Having him here, watching me, is the best I’ve felt since that party. I don’t have to wonder where he is and what he thinks of me, because he’s here, and I can tell exactly what he’s thinking.
Once the hour is up, we start the long task of actually performing the routines and dance for Carter, Marian, and the rest of the team. Carter and Marian are at a table set up in front of the bleachers, so I know they’re the ones that are going to determine who gets in and who doesn’t.
I’m usually really good at performing. I put so much of myself into it that I get lost, and nothing exists outside of the next move, the next jump, the next kick. Not this time. This time, when it’s my group’s turn, I’m aware of myself and that Carter is watching me. I can feel it like there’s a line connecting him and me. I know he’s seeing every flip of my hair and swing of my hips, and the performance feels different. This isn’t meant for energizing a crowd—it’s just for him.
The routine ends, and I look at Carter to see him beaming. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I give him a little shrug. It’s like he’s right here, talking to me.
“You normally do cheer routines like that?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Guess you’ll have to keep watching to find out.”
I see Carter chuckle, and Marian follows his gaze. When she sees that he’s looking at me, she glares. That old phrase, ‘if looks could kill,’ comes to mind. If I make the team, I’m definitely going to have to watch my back.
We take a break, all of us on the floor getting water and resting while they look through their notes, deciding who to cut first. There are nine members on the squad currently, including Marian, and I have no idea how big a team Carter wants. It could be anywhere from fifteen to thirty, but there’s at least forty of us trying out. Probably more.
I take this chance while he’s not watching to study him. It’s different looking at him here than in the close atmosphere of the party. I don’t know what to think except for the fact that he’s still gorgeous, and my body still wants to run across the room and tackle him. Damn it, I should have taken my chance with him at the party. Before I knew he was the coach. I shake my head at my stupidity.
“Hey,” Kara flops down next to me against the wall. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. I don’t want to tell her about Carter. Not yet. So I give her a subject I know she’ll latch on to. “I’m worried that Marian is going to stop me from making the team.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“I got knocked over at that party a couple of weeks ago, into Marian. My drink spilled on her, and she thinks it was on purpose. She has something up her ass about me trying to ‘take her down’ or something.” I roll my eyes to punctuate just how ridiculous I think it all sounds.
Kara, always the perfect best friend, immediately turns and glares daggers at the coaching table. “That bitch.”
I hold back my laughter. “Well, we don’t have to worry about it yet. If she tries to sabotage my chances, then we can do something about it.”
“Sounds good,” Kara says, but I can already see the plans spinning in her head. I’m not sure I want to know. Kara may be a stickler about our pact and look like the world’s most wholesome person, but she creates pranks that put everyone to shame.
“Remember that if Marian suddenly finds her entire dorm room filled with water balloons she is definitely going to blame me, and that’s not going to make things better.”
“Damn,” Kara grins, “that’s a really good idea. But I see your point. I’ll save that one for someone else.”
I roll my eyes again, folding myself over onto the mat and stretching my quads. It’s only a few minutes before Carter stands and walks over to where we’re waiting. He gives us that charming smile, and I think that even the people about to be cut are going to have a hard time being mad at him when he’s looking at them like that. “That was really great, thank you. I know this is always the hardest part. I wish we could take everyone, but unfortunately, we can’t. So the following people will be kept for individual evaluation. If you’re called, you can move over there.”
He lists off numbers, and one by one, people move across the gym. My number—twenty-six—comes in what I think must be the middle of the list. I glance towards Marian when my name is called, and she doesn’t look happy. Well, tough shit. Carter gives me a private smile as I walk by, and I try to return it. The little knot of tension in my chest from worrying that Marian might sabotage me has loosened, but it isn’t gone. There’s still time for me to not make the team.
Kara is called shortly after me, and she bounds across the gym with the enthusiasm of a hundred puppies. I stifle a giggle, but I’m proud of how excited she is. If she keeps that up, she’s going to make the team for sure.
About half the people are cut. Carter says a few encouraging words to them as they gather their things and leave, but I see more than a few unhappy faces in the crowd. Once they’re gone, the gym feels empty.
“All right,” Carter calls. “Routines, one by one. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
6
I’m way, way, more nervous for this part. In a group, if you make a mistake you can cover it, blend it in. When it’s just you? There’s no hiding. Every little thing can be seen, and given that Carter, the totally-off-limits hunk, is the one watching, my skin is practically crawling with anxiety. What will he be thinking about when I’m performing? Will he be thinking about the way he touched me, fingers sinking beneath my underwear to feel how wet I was? Will he be thinking about how his body pressed against mine? Damn it, I shouldn’t have let myself go there. Now it’s all I can think about, and his eyes on me are only going to make it worse.
But I don’t have a choice, because now it’s my turn.
I don’t look at Carter as I move to the center of the mat. I won’t. But I can feel his eyes on me, and Marian’s, too. Two very different gazes.
The music starts and I let myself go, throwing myself into the performance, yelling my cheers with all the energy and enthusiasm I can muster. I throw my performance to the squad members on the bleachers—in my head the cheering crowd of a game. This. This is how I usually feel. Fun and free and totally engaged in the performance. The end is coming and I feel good. I know that I’ve nailed it. Everything is perfect.
Then it happens.
I glance down, towards the front of the mat—towards Carter—and I catch his eye. I was so engrossed in the routine that I had almost forgotten he was there, and in that split second, everything comes rushing back. I trip, nearly falling, and recover at the last second. I have to improvise some of the dance to get to my spot for the finale, but I finish and make sure my smile is as if nothing had gone wrong.
If I ever get him alone again, I’m going to kill him.
“Thank you, April,” Carter says.
I nod, smiling, and take my place back against the wall while the
next person goes out to show the routine.
“What happened?” Kara asks.
I shrug. What am I going to say? I can’t tell her the truth. Not yet, at least. Not the time or the place. “Shoe got caught on the mat.”
“That sucks,” she says, “but you pulled it off. If I didn’t know the routine, I wouldn’t have even noticed.”
“Thanks.” I manage a small smile. Then we’re quiet as the music restarts, and we watch the same routine for the tenth time. At least when I get to tumble, I know that I can make up for tripping. Tumbling is my favorite part. Most girls want to be fliers, get the high lifts. I prefer the power of forcing myself into nearly impossible twists. It’s exhilarating.
It seems to take forever, but we get there. Carter calls anyone who wants to specifically show tumbling skills forward. There are only five of us. I volunteer to go first. I haven’t tumbled on this floor before, but I feel so ready for it. I’m going to make up for that stupid trip. The tumbling pass seems to unfold before me and it feels like I can almost see outside my body as I go. Run. Roundhouse, step out, double back handspring into a tuck. I land and turn, not letting the energy go, and start another pass. Run. This time I throw a layout and full twist, landing perfectly at the edge of the mat.
Kara stands up from the sidelines, shouting and clapping, “YEAH! That’s my girl!”
I blush, and everyone laughs, but I can’t help giving a smug glance towards Marian. She looks furious, and I know I’ve made a good impression. “Her actual cheering still needs more practice,” she says loudly, and I see Carter roll his eyes. I bite back the laugh that tries to force its way out of me as I leave the mat. Good to know her smear campaign isn’t working with him.
They give us a break when the tumbling is finished but tell us not to leave. I was surprised that they’d tell us who made the team so soon, but with Coach Ridley out, Carter wants to start building up the team as soon as possible. I don’t blame him. Being unexpectedly promoted into a job as visible as this is no small thing.
Kara reaches out and grasps my hand tightly. I’m about to ask her what’s going on, but then I see. Carter and Marian are standing in front of the group, and it’s decision time.
“Thanks for staying so late,” Carter says. “Might as well not keep you in suspense, right?”
Is it late? I hadn’t noticed. There’s nervous laughter all around at his words—we all want to know who’s going to make it.
“We’ve decided to ask twelve people to join us for a full squad of twenty-one. I’m going to call your names. They aren’t in any order, so don’t think if you’re called last you just barely made it, okay?”
That means the group will be cut in half again, and my stomach drops with nervousness. He starts listing of names and I count off on my fingers. When he reaches the sixth name I start to feel nauseous and I think Kara is going to squeeze my hand off. Then there’s the eighth name, and the ninth—
“April Collins.”
My body sags in relief and I glance at Kara. She’s smiling but scared. The tenth name isn’t her. The eleventh isn’t either. If she doesn’t make the squad, I’m not sure what I’ll do. The entire group of us take a breath as Carter gets ready to read the last name. “Kara Greenwood.”
Kara lets herself fall back against the mat. “Geeze. You trying to kill me before we even start?”
“I hope not,” Carter says, laughing. “For those who didn’t make it, I really appreciate you coming out. It wasn’t an easy decision. I hope that we’ll see you around and trying again next season.”
Trying to get up, I’m unable to because Kara has rolled over and tackled my legs in a hug. “We did it!”
“I know,” I smile. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if it was only one of us.” I’m trying to be happy, but all I have is a sinking feeling in my gut. Because now that I’m on this team, I’m going to see Carter all the time. Every day. He’ll be right there, plaguing my mind with memories and thoughts of what might have been if I hadn’t been so afraid. I should be celebrating right now. Instead, I just feel a little sick.
But I can do this. It was just one night, just a little make-out. And then a little more than a make out. But it doesn’t matter—I can move on and pretend it didn’t happen. We both can and should. We’re adults. Professional. No reason it has to be otherwise.
“Come on,” Kara says, pulling me towards where we left our bags. “If there’s anything that deserves a celebratory smoothie, it’s this.”
“Coming.” I follow her, but to get where she’s heading, I have to walk right by Carter. I do, and he gives me that sexy little smirk. His voice is low so no one else hears. “See you tomorrow.”
Crap. This is going to be so much harder than I thought.
7
Carter certainly isn’t going easy on us. It’s only the first practice and I’m exhausted. Cardio and tumbling and beginning to fit people into positions for choreography. We covered a lot of ground and it was grueling, so this stretching I’m doing feels good. This uniform is a bit tight though. I’ll need to tailor it a little so the skirt doesn’t dig into my skin as much.
I press my head to the mat, reaching out from my straddle to stretch my legs and back. When I look up, there are shoes in front of me. Carter’s shoes. “Coach,” I say, a tiny shiver of nervousness running down my spine. I tilt my head back to look at him, and from this angle, he looks impossibly tall. “You need something?”
I tried to ignore him as much as I could during practice, though I could feel him watching me.
“You did well today,” he says, “and you look great in the school colors.”
Heat rises to my face knowing he was looking at my body in the uniform, thinking about my body. “I’m sure the short skirt helps,” I say sarcastically.
“Yes, it does.” Carter’s eyes go dark, and I see his jaw clench like he’s holding himself back from doing something.
I stand, brushing off that same skirt—sitting down was starting to feel weird with him looming over me like that. He’s so tall that he still towers over me, but at least now I feel like I have some leverage.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he says softly.
“Why?”
I catch his eyes again, and I feel that same heat. “You know why.”
“I didn’t know who you were. That night. At the party.”
Carter shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” I hiss at him, trying to make my point but also not drawing attention from the other people in the gym. “You’re university staff. In every rulebook that is so not okay. If I had known—”
“I’m not your professor. You’re not my student. There’s no rule against it.”
I snort. “Sure. You say that, but you know what people will think. What they’ll say.”
“Are you worried that they’ll judge you for sleeping with the coach or for losing your virginity to him?” That sexy little smile is back. “You saving it for someone special?”
Looking down, I feel that tell-tale blush come to my cheeks and I wish for the millionth time that I wasn’t so prone to it. It makes me far too easy to read. “Maybe.”
“Am I special enough?” He’s still smiling, but suddenly I can’t tell if he’s serious.
I start walking towards the bleachers where I left my bag and Carter keeps step with me, totally casual. If anyone were to look at us, no one would think that we were having this kind of conversation. “You shouldn’t make jokes like that. Some people take it seriously.”
His smile completely disappears. “I’m not joking.”
“What?” Looking quickly around us, Carter grabs my elbow, pulling me into an alcove near the bleachers. We can’t be seen, but someone could come close enough to see at any second. “What are you doing?”
“I wasn’t joking. I’m actually asking. Am I special enough? Can I prove that to you somehow?”
I can’t find the words to answer him because now that h
e’s this close to me, I feel overwhelmed. This corner is dark and it reminds me all too much of that night. He’s staring at me like I’m the most precious thing, and with his eyes on my lips, I know he’s going to kiss me. “We shouldn’t,” I say. “Not here.”
“Maybe not,” his voice his soft, “but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your mouth.”
Carter presses his lips onto mine, and every worry I had about being seen flies right out of my head. My body melts. It remembers this, being pressed against him, and that same arousal rushes to the surface like fire. If this is such a bad idea why does it feel so good? He presses me against the wall and I can feel that he’s just as aroused as I am. His hands are on my legs and they travel up, dragging across my skin all the way under my skirt. I suppose I should care. I don’t. I want more. Carter’s lips move to my neck, and I stifle a moan as his tongue teases me. Every place he’s touching me leaves tingles, and I know that if I don’t say something, we won’t be able to stop where this is going right here in the gym.
“This is—this is a bad idea.”
His chuckle rumbles across me like thunder. “You don’t actually believe that.”
“I don’t understand.”
Pulling back to look at me, he searches my face. There’s no trace of a joke or sarcasm. “I want you. I don’t care about the rest of it—what other people will think.”
He goes back to kissing me, and it’s impossible to think when his lips tease mine open and he slides down to press his mouth to where my breasts are almost spilling out of my uniform. There’s heat under my skin, energy and anxiety that has nowhere to go, and even though I just finished one of the hardest workouts of my life, I want to run on a treadmill for an hour. I grasp for something, anything, because I still don’t think this can be real. “Don’t you—” I clear my throat. “Don’t guys want someone who knows what they’re doing? Not someone who doesn’t have a clue.”
