“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 her 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.