by H. J. Bellus
“Do you know the way?” I ask Sophie.
“Yes, that’s why I was so damn late yesterday.” She takes a large bite from the apple, letting some juices hang on her lips. “My ma and grandpa just had to make sure I knew where it was so I wouldn’t fuck things up.”
“Are you known as a fucker-upper?”
“That’s a convo for late night with lots of chocolate.”
“So, you’re basically saying you’re a fuck-up?”
Sophie cocks back her arm and chucks her barely eaten apple in my direction, and it gracefully nails me up the side of the head.
“What the hell?” I squeal.
“Just checking your reflexes. You suck.”
We continue to poke fun at each other the rest of the fifteen-minute walk and avoid deep topics at all costs. We pass the training facility for the football team, and of course a dreamy look covers Sophie’s face. I know what she’s thinking about. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scanning the grounds for Tuck. Hopefully, practice won’t kick my ass today and I’ll go for an evening jog at the same time in the hopes of seeing him.
As we enter the training facility, I see the familiar gym with mats covering the area. It’s the same place they held try-outs. It’s elite and has the best of the best equipment.
“Ladies.”
We whirl around to see Coach Lindsey standing near a counter folding towels.
“Hi.” Sophie waves eagerly.
I nod. “Good morning.”
“You girls are a good thirty minutes early.”
“We know. Just wanted to get here early.” Sophie steps up proudly.
“Good, fold these towels while I finish today’s workout schedule.” Coach Lindsey sends the basket sailing across the countertop in our direction and heads down a long hall.
“That worked out well.” I snag a towel and begin folding.
“Is she for real?” Sophie asks.
“I didn’t pick up on any sort of joking tone in her voice.”
We begin folding towels, and when the bottom of the basket comes in sight, others start entering the facility. Folding towels at the front desk isn’t the way I’d imagined entering the cheer camp on the first day as a freshman. I came here to kick ass and take names, but instead I’m folding laundry and staring up into Stephie’s face.
Perfect, the cherry on top of the butt-fuck cake called Blue’s life.
“Well, look who we have here. Lane’s new fuck buddy and the freshman who thinks she’s cool enough to have dinner with our boys.”
I don’t miss the emphasis of the word our. Folding the last towel, I throw it down onto the counter and then scoop up the towering pile and set them in the basket.
“Look, Stephie, I fucking apologized for lunch and really shouldn’t have, because it was harmless. I didn’t come here to be best friends with you, and I sure as hell don’t plan on allowing you to be a bitch to me the rest of the year. So, I have two suggestions for you. Get the fuck over it, or leave me alone.” I pull the basket toward my chest and turn to leave. “Wait, better yet…both options would be best.”
I don’t wait for her response because I refuse to even pretend to hear the bullshit spew out of her.
“Holy shit, Blue.” Sophie is on my heels, trying to keep up. “You just committed career suicide.”
An evil laugh escapes me. “I used to be her and run my high school campus, and never once did I use intimidation. By hell if I’ll let her treat me that way.”
As my last word comes out I run straight into Coach Lindsey.
“Sorry.” Mentally, I berate myself for looking over my shoulder at Sophie.
“Thanks, girls, and good for you, Blue. I don’t tolerate any form of bullying or intimidation tactics from upperclassmen.” Coach takes the basket from my hands. “But the first step is always a brave enough individual to stand up.”
“I agree, but I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did.”
“It’s water under the bridge, Blue, but you two better get your asses out on the mat and report for cardio.”
We both nod, turn, and practically jog down the hallway, back out to the lounge, and then straight into the gym. And to my relief it’s filled with several cheerleaders and a couple of other coaches. Right now the squad is at forty-five and will be narrowed down to thirty, or at least that’s the email Coach Lindsey sent out last week. My mom told me it was probably just a scare tactic to push out the slackers.
“Line up,” an enormous man hollers. “I want nine rows of five.”
The man is wearing a black t-shirt with bold white letters printed across his chest. “Trainer.” I have a feeling this man is here to kick our asses and do a damn good job at it. I try not to focus on any of the other girls as I follow Sophie to the back of a line. I keep my eyes focused on the man ahead of us. He’s easily six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and no body fat at all. His dark chocolate skin is taut and defines each of his glorious muscles.
Sophie turns around to me. “Holy hell, he’s hot. I’ll run my ass off for him.”
My stare is still locked on him and I’m unable to warn Sophie of what is about to go down. I know I should say something, but can’t force my mouth to move.
“What did you say?”
I watch as the train wreck plays out in front of me. Sophie flips her head around, and her long black braid whaps him across the face, causing his eyes to bulge and his jaw to tense.
“What did you have to say?”
I pray for Sophie’s wellbeing and for her tongue to produce something brilliant and talented. I know it’s a far-fetched hope, though.
“I’m sorry,” she squeaks.
“What was so important you had to tell your friend?”
“I told her…” Sophie pauses for a moment, and I feel my butt cheeks pucker up. “That you’re extremely good looking.”
Standing behind Sophie, I can’t see the look on her face, but watch as she tilts her head to the side and can only imagine her puppy dog eyes going to work.
“See, we know who the resident ho-bags are this year.”
I whip my head to see who said it and make direct eye contact with Satan herself, Stephie. Hot trainer man makes it over to her in three large strides and gets right up into her face.
“What did you say?”
Stephie repeats her comment, but this time not as loud or with so much conviction.
“Coach Lindsey warned me that we may have some problems with teamwork and respect, and I guess she was right.”
All eyes are glued to him as he walks back up to the front of the squad and places his hands on his hips. Sophie was correct; the man is downright dreamy, and even hotter in his pissed off state.
“You’ll run three miles.” He points to the running track that borders the outside of the gym. “Twelve laps around that oval, and if anyone comes in over twenty minutes, we’ll run it again until everyone’s ass crosses that finish line before twenty minutes. Go.”
I fight back the giggles threatening to escape as I watch the horror cover Stephie’s face. Yes, she’s gorgeous and has a drop dead body, but I can tell she’s not fit nor very athletic. I take off before my damn mouth gets me in trouble, and I make sure to have a somber look on my face as I pass the trainer. Running is something I love and this task will be easy. I look over my shoulder for Sophie, who is a couple girls back, and try to nod for her to catch up with me. It takes her several seconds to do so.
“Stick with me, Sophie.”
“I’m not a runner.”
“I know, dumb shit, that’s why I said stick with me. I’ll get you to the line in time.”
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
I smile. “You might.”
I easily take each lap with grace, pacing my strides and making sure Sophie sticks with me. I get both of our asses over the finish line, and we were the first to finish.
“Nice work, ladies.”
Sophie hunches over, fighting to catch h
er breath, and I watch as the rest of the girls struggle.
“They’re never going to make it.”
“That’s real positive. Aren’t you supposed to be the trainer?” My hands fly to my mouth and I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve said that. No disrespect.”
“I’m Jay. And you are, besides the friend of the girl who thinks I’m hot?”
“I’m Blue Williams.”
“Ah, the basketball player who picked cheer.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“I know my stuff.” He points to Stephie and her friends struggling on the track. “There’s your weak link. They are going to come in thirty seconds too late.”
Without thinking, I cut across the gym to make it to them. I know damn well Sophie can’t do another mile, and judging by the look on the girls’ faces, neither can they.
“You guys have to keep up with me, so we don’t have to do another three miles. Can you do that?”
I turn around to see Stephie’s shocked face.
“You’re off pace and will force all of us to run another three miles. Look, you’re the last ones. I’m not here to fight. I just want to cheer.” My voice is breathy as I try to keep up my pace.
“Fine,” a girl next to Stephie says.
I’d love to roundhouse kick Stephie in the crotch, but instead I turn to face the track and kick my pace up a bit. She has to be the rudest person I’ve ever met and gives cheerleaders and women in general a horrible name.
We finish the half lap with only one more to go, and I’m surprised to hear the shouts of encouragement from the sideline. Even Sophie is up on her feet cheering, and Jay has a somewhat proud smirk on his face.
“Okay, girls, we have to book this last lap.”
The girls keep up with me the whole way, and Stephie even finds the courage to pass me right at the finish line. I send her a slight eye roll, but then remember what my mom has always taught me. You’ll meet some people in life who are simply glory hogs who demand every single ounce of attention there’s to be had. And I’m a big enough person to let Hulk—I mean Stephie—have that.
The girls are all hunched over, trying to catch their breath, while the rest of our stares are fixated on Jay. He’s taunting us by watching his wristwatch without saying a word or even offering any facial clues.
“All right, you made it. Now the real workout begins, and if I ever get wind of any of you treating each other that way again, it will be six miles.”
Stephie gets to her feet. “Coach, I just want to say I’m sorry for my behavior, and it won’t happen again.”
I shut my eyes for a moment to avoid the eye roll of all motherfucking eye rolls. Attention whores need attention to live. It is like air to them. I repeat the saying over and over in my mind until I hear my name.
“Blue, thank you for helping us.”
My eyes fly open and I realize the whole squad, along with Trainer Jay, is staring at me. My face turns beet red, and I simply shrug, repeating the attention whore mantra in my head. Oh, Stephie came to play, and I’ll let her play her ruthless game while keeping my distance. I came here to work hard and push the limits on being the best. She will not distract me. I notice the nod Trainer Jay gives me before he goes on about our workout, and I know that he knows who is real and who is fake.
If any of the girls thought the three-mile run was hard, then the rest of the day is killer. Jay doesn’t take it easy on us and promises we’ll barely be able to walk tomorrow morning. I eat it all up, taking on each new aerobic or weight lifting task to heart. It feels good to be in the gym and being pushed like an animal. Sophie can’t keep up with me, so I fly solo through most of the workout.
Coach Lindsey reminds us about the barbecue at her house tonight and that it is mandatory. Sophie assures me she has the address and can get us there on time. I love the girl already, but don’t trust her, so I also punch in Coach’s address on my phone.
As we exit the locker rooms, Coach Lindsey and several other coaches stand behind the counter chatting. I keep my head down as I walk by, not wanting any more conversation. My whole body aches and I need a hot shower.
“Basketball sure is missing out.”
I look up to see Jay smiling at me.
“My heart is here, I can assure you of that,” I say, pushing open the door.
“That was clear today.”
Sophie and I make our way outside and start the path back home. We worked straight through lunch, and my stomach is just now reminding me of this.
“What’s this basketball talk?”
“I played in high school.” I shrug as I dig around in my bag, searching for any morsel of food, and find a half-eaten granola bar.
“You did?”
“Sure did. Was even offered a scholarship my junior year, but passed it up.” Bits of granola fly out of my mouth as I talk.
“No wonder you can run like a freaking gazelle. I’m impressed.”
As we pass the football training facility, a large group of men exit the building. And as if he has some sort of radar tracking system, Lane spots us and jogs over. He’s freshly showered and dressed down in gym shorts, and of course Ethan follows him.
“Hey, girls.”
Sophie gives Lane a hug and takes over the conversation as we all continue walking. Ethan tries to talk to me, but I don’t have the energy, and quite frankly, he doesn’t hold my attention. My eyes scan the sea of faces for someone else.
“Distracted.” I feel an elbow contact in my left side.
“Ouch, what?”
“Distracted. Lane just said their coaches told them the showers at the dorms are down for the day.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Why didn’t you guys shower at the gym?” Lane asks.
“We didn’t want to wait in line,” Sophie answers.
“I’m jumping off a fucking bridge.” I let my bag land on the ground
“Settle down on the f-bombs,” a voice from behind me says.
As I turn around, I see Tuck Jones standing behind me.
“You girls can shower at my place if you want.” His face is just as handsome as I remember, if not more, with his freshly wet hair and musky scent wafting off him. His face is stone cold serious.
I’m shocked at his offer, but too exhausted to reply to him.
Sophie pipes up, “That would be amazing. Where do you live?”
“The gray house on the corner right before you get to the dorms.”
God, sex even drips from the man’s voice, and my legs begin to wobble. Then my body shakes a little more while my head takes another spinning dip. Before I make too big of a fool of myself, I take off toward the dorms. My legs are Jell-O as I try to walk, and I feel unstable, and then everything goes black as my body hits the pavement.
“She’s starting to wake up.”
When I open my eyes, I see Sophie peering down at me. I try to sit up, but she has hold of me.
“Blue, can you hear me?”
“Yes, why are you screaming?”
“I’m not. You fainted.”
“Let me up.”
I’m finally able to sit up and look around me. I’m sitting on a brown couch in an unfamiliar house that resembles a poster advertisement for a bachelor pad. I rub my hand over my throbbing head and then drag it down my cheek. Crusted blood and scratches line my jaw.
“Here.” I look up to Tuck and his outstretched hand holding a glass of water and white pills.
I take the glass and empty the contents. Thirst is an overwhelming feeling right now.
“I’ll get more water.”
“I’m taking a shower. Ethan went and got us clothes at the dorms. Don’t stand up.”
“Okay, mother.” I roll my eyes
Sophie bounces from the couch and I hear another voice join hers in the bathroom and know exactly what’s about to go down.
“You should take these.”
Tuck is back with another glass of wa
ter and the same two pills, with another container tucked under his arm. I don’t question him and pop the pills in my mouth and easily down another glass of water. He hands me the other container he’s holding—a chocolate flavored protein shake. I take it too and begin drinking it.
“I haven’t watched you cheer yet, but hell, I’ve seen you eat shit twice.”
I smile at Tuck’s remark. “I try my best to entertain.”
“What did you eat for breakfast?”
“Clearly not enough.”
“I’d hope you’d be a smarter athlete than that.”
Ouch. His words cut me and I have no response. He rises from his knees and heads back into the kitchen. I watch as his gym shorts glide with his movements, and then my gaze roams even lower to appreciate his toned, tanned calves. The man is straight muscle with an asshole attitude. Actually, I’m not sure if he’s an asshole or just defensive.
I lay my head on the back of the couch and mentally spank myself for being such an idiot today. I need to be more prepared tomorrow with protein shakes and extra food.
“Here.” Tuck places a large platter of food in my lap.
“Thanks. You’re like a drug dealer of carbs.” I look up at him with his hands placed on his hips and a pissed-off look on his face. “Sit?”
It takes Tuck several moments before he reluctantly sits on the couch, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he chooses the opposite from me.
“Am I that repulsive to you?”
Tuck makes eye contact as I stick a Twinkie in my mouth.
“Naw.”
“Well, I don’t want to come across ungrateful since all of this,” I gesture to the pile of goodies in my lap, “but you’re mean to me.”
“It’s just who I am.”
“Wow, Sir Talks A Lot. I mean, don’t go into depth or anything like that.”
“I don’t talk. I don’t like people, and I keep my distance.”
“Got it.” I stuff the rest of the Twinkie in my mouth and mumble the word, “Asshole.”
“I’m not deaf.”
My face heats with embarrassment as I turn to look at him.
