Six
Stacy
My body has fallen on top of Reece’s body one too many times this morning and I’ve had about enough.
I huff as Reece awkwardly sets me down, after I had just been uncomfortably straddling his left shoulder from a failed attempt at a very simple lib. “Do you want to act like you know what you’re doing?” I demand, whipping around to face him.
Reece scowls at me which I find very odd. He smiles — correction, he smirks — and laughs and joshes me to the point of insanity every day so seeing his dark brows furrowed aggressively over his green eyes is off-putting.
If I’m honest, Reece has been off-putting all morning. He came into practice an hour ago and has been eerily calm and quiet since. Not to mention, he’s frowning . He’s not giving me shit back when I nag at him, he’s not obscenely flirting with anyone, he’s barely even talking.
I think I hate it more than the chattering arrogant ass that he usually is.
“My bad, Stace. I didn’t realize a partner stunt was all my responsibility to hold,” he bites .
I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I cross my arms over my chest. “Who peed in your Cheerios today, Taylor?”
Reece, for one, does not hold back from rolling his eyes. “Whoever usually pisses in yours. Guess they gave you the day off.”
“Wow. I’ve unlocked a new layer of your charming personality, I see.” My eyes narrow.
Reece steps into my body, placing his hands on my shoulders and spinning me to face away from him. He slides his hands down to my torso to prepare for our stunt and his rough palms make me shiver for a split second.
Alright, Stacy, what the hell?
“Maybe you should focus more on tightening your core and less on my attitude. Think you can handle that, stunt buddy?” he murmurs against the shell of my ear. His hot breath fans across my shoulder, leaving more goosebumps in its wake as his hands slide against the sweat of my waist.
“Hate that nickname,” I mutter back, ignoring the chill on my skin.
Cheerleading is intimate. Stunting means that your body is all over somebody else’s and that has to be something you’re comfortable with, something you can keep professional. I’ve never had a problem with it before, not with Jamie or with my partners in high school comp cheer.
I just need to get used to Reece. My body must be having an allergic reaction to his cocky little mouth.
I’m not used to the fight or flight response that I constantly feel when I’m in close proximity to Reece.
That must be why his hands feel suffocating, why his touch litters my skin with chills, and why my stomach is churning just a little bit more than usual at the thought of our bodies colliding in some ridiculous fashion.
It’ll pass.
“Ready?” Reece’s words make me jump as his hands slide down to grip my hips.
“Try and catch me this time. If you can,” I bite, swinging my ponytail in his face before tightening all my muscles.
Reece calls out our countdown. I bend at the knees as Reece’s hands toss me up, catching both of my feet in one of his large hands.
He’s strong, as bases are, but I’d never admit to him that his strength impresses me.
Granted I’m short and stay slim thanks to my sport, but I struggle to get all my grocery bags from my car in one trip.
Meanwhile, Reece has me in the palm of his hand. Literally.
“Pull up that leg, Dunn!” I hear our coach call from somewhere behind me in the gym.
I tighten my core and pull my left leg up, bending at the knee and pushing my hands into a V position. The simplest partner stunt, one of the first we learn when we start stunting in a competitive setting, something I’ve been doing for years. Since high school, since middle school.
Something I should be good at. Something I am good at.
It’s cheerleading. It’s the only thing I’ve got, the only thing I know I succeed in against all odds.
If I don’t have cheer, if I don’t have the stunts mastered, if I manage to fuck up this season, our last chance at Nationals, what do I have?
This should be easy , this should come naturally .
But I wobble. I fucking wobble.
“Hold steady,” I hear Mae encouraging me from below as other voices start to cheer me on.
“Pull that leg tight, Stacy,” Jamie’s voice says.
Another shouts, “Tighten your core! ”
And below me, I barely hear Reece mutter, “I’ve got you, Stace. I’ve got you.”
But it’s not enough as my knee gives out, my body collapsing down on top of Reece.
The whole gym falls into silence as my body covers Reece’s, nothing but the sound of our grunts and breathless pants.
Reece is on his back, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist from his attempt to slow my fall.
I realize, with much regret, that my hands are both resting on Reece’s chest, my face buried in the crook of his neck as shame and embarrassment wash over my body.
What is wrong with me? I’ve been stunting for years, been at a competitive and collegiate level, been tossed in the air, turned upside down, thrown in basket tosses, the whole nine yards.
But I’m suddenly paired with Reece Taylor and we can’t even stick a simple stunt?
I’m falling from liberties and I’m so embarrassed that I’m hiding the flush in my cheeks by burying my face into Reece’s jawline?
“Stace,” Reece pants into my ear, still a little breathless.
I say nothing, squeezing my eyes shut against the tears welling up behind my eyelids.
He jostles me a bit. “Stacy,” he tries again.
I shake my head against his throat, biting down on my lip to keep the sobs I feel building at bay.
“Let’s take five, team,” Coach Propst shouts.
I quickly push myself off of Reece before anyone can respond, blinking away the ridiculous display of emotion trying to escape my eyes. “Actually, I think I need to call it a day,” I say to no one in particular.
Thirty-one pairs of eyes bore into my back as I snatch my gym bag from the bleachers and head down the hallway.
The silence is nearly crushing as I push out of the exit, the mid-morning heat suffocating as I gasp for air.
My chest is so tight, it feels like somebody’s got my lungs in a vise grip.
And when did it get so damn hot in Ohio?
I drop my bag at my feet, leaning up against the warm brick building as I try to catch my breath.
My shaky hands find my knees as I lean over, my breath trembling as a couple of stray tears splatter to the concrete sidewalk.
It’s a complete and utter breakdown, caused by a complete and utter overreaction, but I can’t stop the crushing weight of failure from washing over my body.
The gym doors open beside me but I don’t bother looking up. I remain hunched over, trying my damndest to pull in a steady breath as I see the shadow of another body join me by the wall.
It’s Reece’s voice that accompanies the body. “Stace?”
“No,” I gasp, shaking my head. “Go away.”
I can feel Reece hesitate as I squeeze my eyes shut against any additional tears. “Stacy, look at me.”
Anger boils up in my stomach as I try to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Reece’s hand lightly touches my bicep. “Please talk to—”
“No!” The anger spills over as I straighten up and face Reece.
My face is hot, flushed with embarrassment and resentment and guilt, and Reece looks taken aback by my outburst. “No, I’m not going to talk to you.
Everything was perfect with Jamie, he never dropped me.
We hit some of the most difficult stunts together and I never had to second-guess if he could catch me or not. And then you came along!”
Reece’s face morphs from shock to anger, his eyebrows knitting together as his full lips turn down. “This isn’t my fault, Stacy. I didn’t ask Propst to be your base, believe me. I was perfectly content with my old flyer, too. We were good , throwing the same stunts as you and Jamie, by the way.”
“This is my thing, Reece! This is what I’m good at!” I shriek, throwing my hands up and losing all composure.
Reece runs his hands through his dark hair exasperatedly. “We’re just new at this, Stace. We have to learn each other’s bodies and we will, I promise. I’m just a little distracted today and I’m sorry—”
“Distracted?” I huff. “Distracted. See? This is exactly what I mean.” I tilt my chin up and prop my hands on my hips as Reece narrows his eyes at me.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean no matter what Jamie was going through, he never let it distract him from cheer. He never let it affect his stunts.”
“Oh, yeah?” he sneers.
I take a step into his body, glowering up at him. “Yeah.”
Even though we were much closer moments ago in the gym, the proximity of his body to mine is making me sweat the tiniest bit.
“Did Jamie’s brother ever marry his ex-girlfriend?” Reece snaps.
His response brings me up short.
My mouth gapes but no words come out so Reece goes on.
“Was Jamie ever the best man in his brother’s wedding?
Did he have to stand at his brother’s side while his brother married his ex?
Another quick inquiry for you, did Jamie ever walk in on his girlfriend and his brother fucking and then have to shake it off and act okay for the sake of his family? ”
The wind has been knocked from my sails, so to speak. I didn’t expect this raw version of Reece today, nor did I expect him to come undone in front of me.
But, hell, I’m distracted too. I’m going through my own stuff, but I bury it. I bury it the way I’m supposed to, the way I need to in order to be the perfect Stacy that everyone wants to see.
I’m still stunned into silence so Reece continues. “I promise, I’m trying here, Stace. But this isn’t a one-man show, alright? I can’t hold up these stunts on my own, you’ve got to pull your weight.”
“Well, I’ve got shit too, Reece! You’re not the only one dealing with something,” I snap, my earlier rage bubbling back up as the shock from Reece’s outburst subsides.
Reece gives me a dubious look, folding his thick arms over his chest. His arched eyebrows alone are enough to piss me off because I know he doesn’t believe me.
I huff, glaring up at him. “My sister is pregnant,” I bite.
Reece’s expression shifts from doubtful to dumbfounded. “I can’t help but think that my problem might be a little bigger than yours.”
I match his stance, folding my arms over my sports bra. “You don’t get it, okay?”
“Then help me understand, Stacy.”
My mouth opens, as if my mind wants to untangle all the twisted truths inside me, but I’ve already said too much. I’ve already made a fool of myself in front of Reece, been way too vulnerable in front of this insufferable man.
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” I decide.
Reece’s brows knit together. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re lying to me, Dunn?”
“I’m not,” I lie yet again. “It’s great that my sister is pregnant. Fantastic, even. I couldn’t be happier.”
Reece snorts as I tighten my arms over my chest. “Yeah. You wear the expression of a happy person.”
I scowl. “Just because I’m not a ray of fucking sunshine like you doesn’t mean I’m not happy for my sister.”
“Did you completely miss my tirade about my brother marrying my ex or…?”
I groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes to ward off an impending headache. “I’m not comparing family trauma right now, Taylor. Just go back inside.”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
My hands drop to my sides as I glare back up at him. “I don’t owe you an explanation for my emotions.”
“You don’t,” he agrees. “But stunt buddies are supposed to trust each other. We need to lay that foundation of trust and frie—”
“I told you I hate that nickname,” I snap. “And I trust you about as far as I can throw you so you can give up on that dream.”
“You are my stunt buddy, though. And we do need to build that trust so why don’t you—”
“Reece,” I cut him off. “Stop talk—”
“—just tell me what’s the matter,” he interrupts my interruption, that little prick, “so that we can go ahead and—”
“Stop. Speaking.”
“— clear the air and get comfortable with each other. Maybe our stunts will stick better. Maybe we can connect physically if we connect mentally first. I’m telling you, building rapport is super important when it comes to—”
I groan again, reaching up to cover his mouth with the palm of my hand.
“Dear Christ, do you ever stop talking?” I demand, my hand staying in place over his warm, thick lips.
“My sister’s got it all, alright? The successful husband, the medical degree, the big house, and now the baby.
All I’ve got is cheer, okay? I’ve got cheer and no plans for the future and now I’ve got you to share my sport with,” I sneer.
Reece’s eyes go wide as I drop my hand from his mouth.
He doesn’t speak so I forge on, my body hot and shaky but too fueled by adrenaline to shut up.
“I’ve got nothing to show for my twenty-one years besides being a good cheerleader.
When Charlotte was my age, she was applying to medical schools and engaged to an engineer.
And I’ve got…” I laugh manically. “I’ve got a dead-end collegiate cheerleading career, a degree path I couldn’t care less about, and to top it all off, I have to bring my boyfriend to dinner with my family on Friday.
But that’s a problem. You want to know why that’s a problem, Reece?
Hm? Because I don’t fucking have one.” I suck in a desperate breath as I finish my rant and it hits me all at once how much I’ve just spilled to Reece Taylor.
Reece Taylor who’s now looking at me with an expression I hate more than anything: pity.
I shake my head, my throat tightening. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. We’ll try again Thursday, yeah? It’ll be better.” My vision begins to cloud so I grab my bag off the concrete and blow past Reece to head to our apartment.
“Stace! Wait. Talk to me,” I hear him holler from behind me.
I keep walking, my head down as I blink the tears away.
The nasty feeling of defeat sits low in my stomach while I trudge back to my complex.
I hate myself for feeling weak in front of Reece, I hate myself for creating competitions with my sister that don’t need to exist, I hate myself for only showing the polished version of myself to everyone in my life.
But more than anything, I hate that cheer is the only thing keeping me moving forward in my life right now.
I hate how it’s the only thing I have right now to feel proud of.
Because that train is leaving the station in May.
I don’t know a version of myself without my sport.
And I’m so afraid that I’m not going to like her.