95
My mind is focused on one thing above all else: college. That’s why I’m here, suffering through this nightmare of a school. Burberry Prep will give me the best possible future, the greatest chance at a good life. So I’ve upped my game, and by the end of the second week, I’ve added a second language (Spanish) to my class roster, and tacked on a few extracurricular activities. I’m now part of the academy’s book club, history club, and the model UN. The one place I am lacking in, however, is in sports.
Today, I’m going to make up for that.
Cheerleading tryouts are taking place in a special gymnasium once used to house the academy’s gymnastics team. Since moving toward more academically focused endeavors, the school retired their gymnastics program and left the building more or less abandoned for close to a decade. This year, with the addition of Zack to the varsity football team, Burberry Prep is looking to dip its toes in the proverbial waters of sports.
This includes revamping the cheerleading team.
It’s no longer going to be used as a sideline sport for football or basketball, but instead as a competition team, something to earn merits in its own right. For the first few football games of the season, the team remained unchanged from last year, but with Principal Collins putting pressure on the coach, she’s having to open up the ranks.
Now, Burberry Prep is a snobby, academic-based school. Cheerleading is almost seen as a bit … basic. But while Harper and Becky have no interest in
signing up, the rest of the Blueblood girls are not beyond the allure. So when I walk in with my gym bag over my shoulder, all eyes are on me.
Including Zack’s.
He’s standing in the center of a cluster of girls, smiling sweet as pie. The expression on his face puts a frown on mine, even as he separates himself from the team and they let out a collective groan. Ileana, in particular, is glaring daggers at me. Kiara, too. Maybe they’re pissed that I single- handedly sent all three Idol boys, both remaining Idol girls, and half the Inner Circle to in-school suspension. It starts on Fridays right after class ends, and consists of school-related chores like stocking books in the library, dusting shelves, sweeping leaves, and scrubbing windows. From Friday evening until late Sunday, the in-school suspension students are locked down by staff members with brief nine hour breaks to sleep-and even then, they’re checked on twice a night.
Basically, it’s hell on earth.
“What are you doing in here?” I whisper as Zack comes up to stand beside me, towering over me like he always does. I know it’s not on purpose, but it’s intimidating. I refuse to let it get to me, and lift my chin in defiance, trying to make myself feel a little taller.
“Well, I really didn’t expect you to be in here, so you can’t claim I’m stalking you.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and just stares at me. I can feel his gaze like a heated laser, searching across my face, seeking … something. It bugs me, but I also refuse to back down. “I’m a guest judge for tryouts.” He shrugs his shoulders again, as if that makes it all better.
“You are a guest judge?” I ask, and I get a rare smirk from him, this sensual twisting of lips that makes me realize so very quickly why all those girls are swooning over there. Zack leans in close, putting his forearm on the wall above my head. He’s all around me in that moment, hard muscles and musky smelling cologne. My lashes flutter, and I exhale past the hormones. Last year, they got me into trouble. This year, I won’t let that happen again. “What makes you qualified to judge cheerleading?”
“Um, my sister Kelsey was the head of the Burberry Prep cheerleading team.” Zack leans in a little closer, his letterman jacket falling open in the front, encompassing me. It’d be so easy for him to scoop me up and bundle me inside of it. That is, if I didn’t hate his guts. “Also, my mom went through a spell where she was tired of being more than a boring ass trophy wife; she coached for like three seasons.”
“I see …” I exhale, and blink a few times to clear away the cobwebs. I’d really like him to move away from me, but I feel like I can’t say it. I don’t want him to know how his presence is affecting me. “So … you’ll make sure I get on the team then?”
Zack’s brows go up, and a dark chuckle reverberates through him. I swear, I can feel it vibrating the air molecules between us.
“Are you asking me for help in your revenge plot?” He pauses for a second and shakes his head. “Not that you’ve needed much help thus far. Sinking the cars, that was brilliant. And Becky is still crying over her hair.”
“Get me on the team,” I tell him, staying firm. When he reaches out to touch a stray strand of rose gold hair, that’s when I call it quits, ducking underneath his arm and putting my back to the room. Zack watches me and sighs, dropping his hand to his side.
“Done.” The smirk disappears from his mouth and he frowns at me again. My mind conjures up an image of him dumping a garbage can full of used feminine products on my desk, and I almost throw up. I started my period earlier than most of the other girls, and I was mercilessly destroyed for it. Just one of the many, many things he did to me. I’ll never forget that. “That is, I can fix my vote, and I can probably convince Amy to give you some good marks.” The way he smiles when he says that tells me he thinks very highly of himself with the ladies. But then the frown’s back as quick as the smile came. “Other than that, you’re on your own. Do you know anything at all about cheerleading?”
My turn to vaguely shrug my shoulders.
“I was busy this summer,” I tell him cryptically, turning and heading into the center of the gym. I push right through the crowd of girls, ignoring the whispered insults, and then lean down to sign the form on the table. The coach blinks at me in surprise and raises her eyebrows, but she doesn’t say anything, just hands me a number, and tells me to get in line.
Zack takes his place behind the table as Coach Hannah explains how tryouts are going to work. The only girls who are here are the ones who were on the team before, plus a few first years like Ileana. That’s it.
I’m the only outlier. The only hated one.
“You’re going to wish you’d never trashed my brother or my pool,” Ileana whispers as she takes up my right side, and
Kiara stands on my left.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.