“Shit, I’m sorry, Demi. I wasn’t—”
“It’s fine,” I whisper.
Why am I whispering?
Why not go right in, make my presence known?
“Wanna go somewhere?” Alex offers, his hand finding my lower back. “I doubt you really want to stand here and watch this.”
I don’t answer, but lift my bag in the air, letting it go when it’s well over my head to ensure it hits with a loud, echoed thud across the near empty gym.
Miranda, I would think, would fly away from the student whom she has her filthy hands all over. She doesn’t.
Nico either.
He locks in place, a hard glare taking over as his hands slowly fall to his sides.
But his eyes, they aren’t on me.
They’re on the guy beside me, or more, the hand still fixed on my back.
“Hey.” Miranda laughs, dropping her palm to Nico’s chest, officially forcing my attention back to her. She looks to the clock quickly. “Early as always.”
“As always.”
Her eyes pull, but then she shifts her focus to Alex. “You should have told me it was Demi you’ve been meeting early. I totally would have asked the janitor to open up for you guys. Seems you found a private place to practice, though. Awesome.”
I grow stiff. “What—”
Alex’s sudden closeness has me stopping short. I frown, having not even realized he and I walked farther inside.
“Yeah, we’re good. Just finished up actually,” he lies, tipping his chin as if asking me to go with it.
Is he crazy?
The tension in the air is so thick, it takes me a second to react.
I take a step out, away from Alex and look to Nico, who knows I turned Alex down when he asked for help.
I’m the one missing something here, not him.
I look to Miranda. “You can get your hand off him now.”
Shock flashes across her without her control, but she covers it with a glare just as quick.
As if he hadn’t noticed before this moment she was touching him, Nico’s eyes slice to the contact and he shoves her off. He studies her a moment, then his head snaps toward Alex, and something passes between them.
Nico steps toward him, but I slide in the middle, positioning myself directly in front of Nico, and nothing but rage glares back as he looks at me.
His features are hard, the cuts of his jaw more profound as he clenches it, the cords of his neck raised and tight.
He might be mad, but so am I, and I glare right back.
Show her, Neek.
I tip my chin the slightest bit.
Nico’s forehead pulls, but then it dawns on him, and his hand slips into my hair at the base of my skull, his lips lowering to mine.
It’s a short, quick skim, but it’s effective enough.
For now.
I reach up, sliding my fingers across his, my eyes moving over his shoulder to a pissed off Miranda.
“I’m going to run to the restroom. Should I... I don’t know, maybe wake the place up on my way out or are you wanting the class to practice in this shadowed, burlesque type lighting you’ve got going on?”
It comes out with more of a bite and I’m glad for that.
Her eyes narrow, but she finally snaps out of it, and realizing she should have some tact, or at least be more careful in the school gym with a student when technically she’s a teacher, she offers a tight smile.
“You can turn them on.” She starts backward, her narrowed gaze sliding to Nico. “Help me grab—”
“Just,” I cut her off, tugging Nico with me. “Don’t.”
I don’t wait for her response, if she gives one, but pull Nico out the door with me all to drop his hand and storm into the bathroom a door down.
I’m so fucking annoyed and pissed, and an array of other things I don’t even want to think about right now.
My dance coach? Is he that careless?
This is someone I have to work with for the entire school year. It’s not like we announced to her that we were dating – fake dating – but based off how he came right to me the first day, the interest was at least laid out in front of her and the rest of my team. To make matters worse, Alex, who acted like an ass just now and does know us to be together, saw the same thing I did.
It’s embarrassing.
It’s so much more than embarrassing.
Taking a deep breath, I step in front of the mirror, staring directly into my own eyes.
What the hell are you doing, Demi?
A mocking chuckle escapes and I shake my head.
It would be so easy to stand here and play the comparison game, but I’m not going to do that. I’m happy with who I am, with my body and skill set. Miranda and her scandalous tactic this morning has nothing to do with the anxiety building in my chest right now.
This is all about Nico, who steps through the door behind me.
Nico shifts closer, his body now aligned with the mirror as he stands only a few paces back, and a single step to the left, eyes on mine, a heavy hostility surrounding him.
“Demi.” The bridled anger in his voice has my own returning.
“Are you in need of a hall pass, Nico?” I snap.
Shock flashes across his face, but fury quickly takes its place. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Answer the question.”
He scoffs, looking away quickly only to come right back. “She told me to come here early, said we had to start going over the rest of this shit. I had no fuckin’ clue it would only be us. You really think I’d be here if I did?”
I stare, forcing the possibilities flaring in my gut at bay.
He shakes his head and charges for the door, but pauses with it half open, his eyes finding mine in the mirror once more. “Is this your game, how you wanna play it so you can go fuck Alex and call it a draw? Or maybe you two just slipped outta his backseat before you walked in the gym, with his fuckin’ hands on you!” he lashes out as he tosses the door open and exits.
I whip around to chase him out and the few feet down he’s gotten, hastily forcing my words past clenched teeth. “I am not you, and I’m sure as hell not Josie.”
His muscles lock tight and he freezes in place.
After a long moment, his chin tips over his shoulder, only half his face visible to me, but it’s enough for me to know that was the wrong thing to say, also noticing he doesn’t exactly look shocked I know about what she did to him.
I cross my arms. “Alex is a fucking liar. I don’t know why he tried to make it sound like I helped him, and I don’t know why he’s here early, but it wasn’t to meet me. I turned him down, Nico. You heard it with your own ears.”
Something shifts and he keeps me locked in his gaze until he disappears into a classroom door a few feet ahead.
My heart beats out of control as I follow.
I only make it a foot through and then he has me pinned.
His voice is low, not a hint of cruelty laced within his tone, though the words he chooses seem to be. “You realize I need no hall pass to fuck whoever I want, right?” His nose brushes mine briefly. “But, tell me something, would my sticking my dick in someone else not bother you none? ‘Cause all that, D, everything you just said to me in there, it tasted a lot like jealousy, so I’m thinking it would.”
When I don’t speak, he lifts his head, looking me in my eyes.
I am jealous. Completely.
“Why did she have attitude toward you the first day of practice?” I demand.
“Because I fucked her this summer,” he admits instantly.
My shoulders fall and I try to look away, but he doesn’t allow it, shifting to stay in my line of sight.
“I haven’t touched her since, and I have no fuckin’ plans to. She was good with it when it ended, I don’t know why she’s acting like a fool right now.”
I’m not sure if this is supposed to make me feel better or not, but it doesn’t.
He didn’t e
xactly do anything wrong, so I’m not mad at him, but I am mad at the entire situation.
As if reading the thought the second it crossed my mind, Nico cocks his head to the side, whispering, “Tell me you’re not as dumb as you are blind?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
He nods, allowing his hands to fall before he steps back. “Then I guess the answer is yes, D.”
With that, he walks out and I’m left wondering what wrong turn I took to get here, falling for the guy who only promised me a lie.
I’m a zombie the rest of the day, and thankfully we’re watching a film in chem so talking isn’t necessary.
I skip my after school dance practice for the first time in all my four years, because fuck Miranda, and head straight home.
I’m showered and lying on my bed within minutes, left with nothing but my thoughts to further ruin the day.
The light knock on my door a couple hours later has me pushing up on my elbow.
My mom opens the door and walks in, her lips pursed in an unpleasant smile.
At this point, I’m already emotionally spent. I’m prepared for her words, whatever they might be, another trip announcement probably, but when her mouth smooths out, concern lining her forehead as much as the Botox allows, my bottom lip begins to tremble.
“Demi...” she whispers, a softness I haven’t heard from her in... I don’t even remember when, but she hasn’t seen me like this... ever.
She steps closer.
And I break.
I cry for no real reason other than fear of what hasn’t even happened yet.
Surprising me even further, my mom doesn’t say what she came in here for, but instead sits on the edge of my bed.
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t touch me like a normal mother would feel comfortable enough to, but she doesn’t get up either.
She’s there when I fall asleep but gone when I wake.
It was enough.
I push to my feet and move toward the closet to grab some clothes.
I take my time getting ready, having no intention of getting to school early today. My mind is overworked and an anxious mess.
How I allowed myself to get to this point, I don’t know, but if I’m sure of one thing, it’s that I should give myself some room to breathe.
I need to distance myself from Nico because...
When he says it’s time to break, I just might.
He and I, we’re nothing.
Fake as the smile I’ll wear today.
Apparently, I even lie to myself now.
Once I’m ready to go, I grab my phone and my backpack and make my way downstairs, and sitting there, beside a slightly melted iced coffee is a note.
Prep for finals begins today.
But the words aren’t where my focus lies, it’s on the little pill that sits on top of the paper.
I take the stupid thing.
I left my phone at home and went to all my classes without a word to anyone in between, but then when it was time for chemistry, my nerves were through the roof. So, instead of going to class, I walked up to the office and cashed in on my performance card for the first time since freshman year. I used the class pass, went into the open study hall room and worked on reviewing in there.
I’m pretty sure the office staff caught on to my off day, though, when I suddenly had a stomachache during my lunch period, one that was miraculously better when the following class began.
Thankfully, my last one of the day is teacher’s aide, so I’m already allowed to leave five minutes prior to the bell every day, but I decide to slip out a few early. All so I can jump in my car and take off before anyone spots me.
I know the girls, and they’ll sense something is off the second they lay eyes on me and I can’t exactly explain what’s going on without giving up mine and Nico’s secret and I’m not ready for that.
So, to kill time and make sure they can’t seek me out, I drive to the coffee shop across town and study until my eyes begin to burn.
It’s almost six-thirty when I look at my watch, and I know the girls have called me at least a half dozen times by now with it being game night.
Other than the few away games the girls’ squad didn’t travel to over the years, there hasn’t been a single game I’ve missed. Carley and I are always around to cheer them on. Now, if you add in my boyfriend being on the team, I’m expected even more to be loud and proud and present.
I won’t be today. At least, not where they can see.
Not when I know Miranda will be there trying to get attention.
She said she needed to get a better idea of space for proper placement since the gym is more wide than narrow like the field and apparently being there with her handy little GoPro for cheer’s half-time performance will help with that.
I let out a heavy exhale.
The last thing I need right now is to be angry with an instructor of mine. Of course she’s hot for Nico.
He’s an eighteen-year-old high school senior with the body of an NFL star and the allure of Hollywood’s finest.
Still, I want to tell her to fuck off and find a new center who can do what I can. I have my normal dance studio and team, and if I didn’t need this on my college applications, I might not even go back.
Shaking off the annoyance, I park on the backside of the school so I can walk the long way around the building and slip into the library.
I take the stairs Nico led me up when he shared his spot with me, not bothering to move toward the edge of the rooftop this time but drop into the chair Nico sat in the day we were up here together.
I drop my Gatorade and survey the sky as the sun begins to set while I wait for the game to start.
Sure enough, right when the wind blows in, and the summer night’s air hits, I can only faintly hear Mr. Freeman’s voice float across the field as he announces the game.
Thankfully, I have perfect vision, so when I move closer, I can make out each jersey.
Not that number 24 allows himself to be missed.
After the National Anthem ends, the team captains take the field for the coin toss, and then it’s game time – Spartans set to receive.
I stay there, on the edge of the roof, my eyes trailing Nico’s every move. Before I realize it, it’s halftime, and the team gathers at the far right of their endzone.
The cheer squads walk out, meeting in the middle, before they run over to the opposite side to watch as the visiting team performs before switching back for their turn.
I smile when they give a small booty pop and point to the crowd, fighting the urge to clap when it’s over even though there’s no one around to hear me if I did.
My joy is short lived, frustration taking its place as Miranda keeps her stupid camera pointed forward and walks for the guys.
They’re just beginning to stand and snap their helmets back in place as she approaches.
Of course, she makes her way around the group, pausing when she’s only feet from Nico.
And just like that, I’m over the game.
I take the stairs two at a time, making my way to the studio room.
The lights are all off, but the door is open, so I go right in, taking a few minutes to set up the sound system. Right when I get it ready to hit play, a voice catches me from behind, and I jump.
The janitor stands there with a frown. “Ms. Davenport?”
I smile meekly. “Sorry, Jan. I was hoping to get in some extra work, if that’s okay?”
She nods, lifting a shoulder as she glances around. “Well, I haven’t hit this room yet, and I’ve got at least fifteen more to go, so I don’t see why not. Just be sure to leave it how you found it?”
“Thanks.” I smile, turning back to the stereo when she walks away.
I kick my shoes off, toss my sweater beside them and press play.
I face the mirror, wait for the base to hit, and then I let go.
I drop my shoulder, running right through the defender who comes in for the t
ackle.
Too high, asshole, gotta go for the legs.
The safety dropped back, so it’s only him and I left, or so I thought.
I’m blindsided by some prick who slipped passed his block and I slam to the turf with a groan.
I jump up, leaving the ball where I landed and push off the guy who attempts to pat me on the back.
That’s when I notice the flag that was thrown, and we’re hit with a penalty.
Thirty-yard carry, fucking busted.
I jog to the huddle and spit out my mouthpiece. “What the hell happened?”
“Personal foul.” Trent turns to Thompson. “I don’t give a shit about your beef with that guy out there, let it go. You just cost us Nic’s yards, and another fucking fifteen.” His glare quickly flies to me. “You, chill the fuck out, too. Don’t go gettin’ another fuckin’ flag.”
“Fuck you, roll out.”
He scowls but calls off the next play and we’re back in formation.
I’m wide open, but Trent throws the ball to Alex.
The bitch catches it, taking it down to the twenty-yard line.
He jumps up, knocking shoulders with Thompson, smirking as he passes by me.
His eyes cut to the stands on his way back, and fuck if mine don’t do the same.
Carley sits there, and as if she knows I’m looking at her, she lifts her hand.
Still no Demi.
But as my eyes move down the bleachers, they freeze.
My dad sits there, clapping his fucking hands, while simultaneously shaking his head.
“Nic!”
My head snaps forward and I hustle back to the huddle.
Everyone breaks, but I stick back when Trent does.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
“You’ve got a big fuckin’ mouth, that’s what,” I spit and he glares. “Give me the ball.”
“No,” he snaps. “Line up.”
“Trent—”
“You’re hot headed, clearly pissed about something.” The coach shouts for us to hurry up in the background. “I’m not risking a fucking pick because you wanna showboat.”
“My dad’s here.”
Trent’s eyes cut to mine and he curses.
“Get to the fucking ball and stop being a prick,” he growls, and we rush into position before a delay of game is called.
Fake It 'Til You Break It Page 19
