Chapter Five Ella
CHAPTER FIVE
Ella
I pluck a stark white piece of cat hair off my shorts, and then stuff the fabric into the back of my wardrobe.
Gabi wasn’t home when I arrived back this morning.
She’s gone out for a run, as the sticky note on my mirror told me, leaving me alone to unpack and process everything that’s happened since I touched down.
I’m typically grateful for time to myself, but I’m feeling a little resentful at this specific moment.
It’s difficult—being somewhere new, adjusting to so much change all at once.
And I don’t have anyone to unload to about last night, or this morning, or the complicated way I feel about sleeping with someone other than Jamie.
Our breakup wasn’t a clean one—it was a fracture deep enough to make me wary of ever letting anyone in again. Jamie was my first, my constant, the one I thought would always be there. And now that’s been shattered.
But it’s not solely Jamie I’m thinking of, wallowing about, it’s also the way I feel about myself. I’ve been in America for less than twenty-four hours, and it feels as though I’m already making mistakes.
Sitting on my bed, I bury my face in my hands. “Pull yourself together, woman,” I mutter under my breath. I know I haven’t bothered to give it time, but I don’t want to be fretting over the past. This is my chance to move forward.
If only there was some magic recipe for forgetting someone you once loved so fiercely. Some combination of time, distance, and new experiences that would make everything else fade away. Last night, if only for a moment, I thought it was well within my reach.
But now, in the harsh light of day, it seems impossible again.
My relationship with Jamie was slow and steady.
He was the first person to teach me what love felt like, the first boy who looked at me and saw the whole world in my eyes.
For so long, he brought me warmth and a sense of home.
We were solid together, comfortable in a way that can only be learned, not taught.
And then, last night, there was Hudson. He’s much different from what I’m used to—he’s loud where Jamie was quiet, bold where Jamie was unadventurous, self-assured where Jamie was … apprehensive, to say the least.
I suppose if Jamie Baker was my foundation, then Hudson Fox must be my tempest—intense and unpredictable. A force of nature wrapped up in a handsome smile and a perfect body.
But what’s done is done. I could spend the next two terms overthinking everything that’s happened, or I could focus on the reason I’m here in the first place. To cheer with the best. To make the most of this opportunity in Nashville, breakup be damned.
I carefully set my nagging thoughts aside as I rifle through a bag of leggings on my bed. I’ve been showering and unpacking since I came home from Hudson’s place this morning. It was my first walk—no, Uber ride—of shame, and it wasn’t nearly as much scandalous fun as I’d hoped.
It’s nearly noon by the time Gabi swings open my door, her arrival announced by a jingle of keys and the light thud of her bag hitting the floor. She finds me sprawled across my bed, surrounded by half-unpacked suitcases.
Without a word, she plops down beside me, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. “Looks like you’ve made quite the mess,” she teases, picking up a crumpled shirt and tossing it at me.
I manage a weak smile. “I’m working on it.”
Her eyes dance with curiosity. “So,” she begins in a sing-song voice, “tell me everything.”
“About what?” I murmur, hoping to sidestep the interrogation.
“Oh, I like it when you’re coy.” She waggles her brows. “Is that how you landed Hudson Fox?”
I groan, burying my face deeper into my pillow. “Is it really necessary to use his full name?”
“Absolutely not. Though his middle name would be a fascinating piece of trivia. But seriously, Ella, spill. I need all the details. Now!”
I sit up, tossing the shirt back at her. “There are no details to spill. It was a one-time thing, and I’d rather forget about it.”
Her expression softens, her teasing demeanor fading to concern. “Was it that bad?”
I hesitate. “No, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was very hot. Too hot. It’s all just overly complicated, and I’d rather move on instead. That’s my new M.O.”
“Feels like there’s something else you’re not telling me,” she says, head tilted.
“My ex,” I tell her. “He’s studying here, too. He dumped me quite literally yesterday morning. A total prick who threw five years down the drain. So now, all I want to do is focus on the future. My future, you know?”
I say it like it doesn’t sting, but the truth is, failure has been hitting me from all sides lately. Jamie, Hudson … it feels like no matter what I do, I’m making the wrong choices. It might be better, I think, easier, to keep men at arm’s length from now on.
“Say no more. I’ve got just the thing to distract you—from both Hudson and the loser who ditched you.” She gives me a wide smile, jumping back up onto her feet. “You can join me at the gym this afternoon. I promise it’ll help clear your head.”
“Actually, that sounds perfect. I could use a new routine.”
“Great!” Her enthusiasm is infectious. “Have you ever gone to an all-star gym? Do they even have those near Oxford?”
I laugh. “There are a few programs. Smaller, probably not quite like they are over here.”
“Well, I’ve been going to Skyline for a very long time. I’m not saying this because I’m biased, but it’s probably the best gym in the entire state.”
“I believe you. Only the best for Gabi.”
She bops me affectionately on the nose before bouncing out of my room, her voice carrying back as she calls, “Be ready by three!”
The doors to Skyline swing open, and it’s like stepping into a whole new world—a vibrant, pulsing universe where everyone’s bound by the same relentless drive. The place is brimming with music, trainers squeaking on mats, and the distant thud of someone landing a stunt.
The gym is huge, with towering ceilings and space for what seems like hundreds. Across the expanse, a group of young girls are tumbling on the mats. To the right, there’s another blur of bodies, flipping through the air with a casual disregard for physics.
It’s magic, the kind that could easily make you forget everything outside these four walls.
I’m still standing there, mouth agape, when Gabi grabs my hand to tug me deeper into the fray.
She’s like a kid showing off a secret clubhouse, and her excitement radiates to everyone around her.
We barely manage to dodge a roaming tumble track, but once we’re through, we approach a group of people who appear to be our age.
“Guys, this is Ella, my new roomie,” Gabi says, sparking a series of grins and nods in my direction. “She’s on study abroad from Oxford, but she’ll be training at Whitland for the year. First time here.”
The group gathers around in a circle, and they all take their time to greet me, a mix of cheeky winks and quick-fire questions that feel like an initiation rite. I smile back at them, trying my best to take it all in.
There’s a boy with a swoop of dark hair and a roguish smile who introduces himself as Luke. Then there’s Sammy, all smooth grace and lean muscle as she flows between stretches, tossing me a dimpled grin.
The last to offer his name is Ash, his eyes flicking up to mine for only a moment before dropping again. His sandy-blond hair is tousled, as if he’s run his hands through it one too many times, and when he finally locks eyes with me again, there’s a playful challenge in his gaze.
“Heard a lot about you from Gabs already,” he says. “We’re expecting only the best.”
I give a nervous laugh. “You’re all on Whitland’s squad, too?”
“Yeah,” he says with a crooked smile. “No pressure.”
I force myself to look away, focusing back on the group at large. “So, how did you all get started here?” I ask.
They launch into their origin stories, childhood tales of tumbling in the backyard, flipping on the trampoline, begging parents for gymnastics lessons. Their voices layer over each other with enthusiasm.
Sammy mimes her first back handspring, nearly kicking Luke in the process, who exaggerates a dodge and retaliates by ruffling her hair. Gabi’s recounting her first competition at age eight when she notices what must be my unfocused stare.
She laughs, snapping her fingers. “Earth to Ella.”
I blink, shaking myself out of my daze. Ash is on the floor stretching now, spine curved in a deep back bend, the smooth expanse of his tan torso making my mouth water.
“Sorry, just taking it all in,” I say quickly. It’s kind of nice, really—being able to admire attractive men without worrying about getting too close.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the chaos soon enough,” Sammy assures me.
As I move to join in the stretches, Gabi checks her watch, her face morphing into an expression of mock seriousness. “Duty calls. I’ve got to go teach the littles. They’ll start a mutiny if I’m late.”
I raise an eyebrow. “‘Littles’?”
“Yeah, pre-school tumbling. They’re adorable but terrifying,” she explains with a wide smile. “You can warm up with Ash. Luke will spot.” She nods to where Luke and Sammy are engrossed in conversation, heads bent, both of them laughing.
“Luke! Can you come spot for El?” Gabi calls out. He gives a thumbs-up and jogs over, still chuckling from whatever had amused him on Sammy’s phone.
I suppose that leaves me to put my faith in Ash. My stomach does a weird flip that I pointedly decide to ignore. He’s undeniably gorgeous, but like every other man I meet from now on, I’ve already put him in the off-limits category.
Ash stands, brushing off his hands, and gives me a shrug. “Ready to give this a shot?” he asks, his voice laced with provocation.
“Sure,” I say, amping up my confidence. “Full disclosure, I’ve mostly flown with two bases and a back spot, and co-ed stunting is fairly new to me.”
At Oxford, we had just one man on our team, which didn’t leave room for much experimentation. It’s always been two girls anchoring me, and I know I’ll need to catch up if I want to be ready for the start of term.
“No worries. I’ll guide you through it. Let’s start with some basic hands,” he suggests, positioning himself.
Luke steps up behind me, giving a reassuring nod. “I’ll be right here, Ella. Just focus on your stunts and trust us.”
The transition is nothing short of jarring. The first few attempts are clumsy, my hands searching for the familiar grip of two other bases, only to find Ash’s steady hold. He’s strong, obviously capable, but it’s a mental block I’ll need to work through.
We start slowly, working on getting used to his hands as my only contact point. His palms are warm and callused, providing both an odd comfort and the thrill of something new.
With Luke spotting, I feel more secure, and we progress gradually, from simple tosses to shoulder stands. Even though the initial awkwardness doesn’t completely fade away, there’s a rhythm developing between us now. A sort of budding trust that tells me I’ll be able to find my footing here.
“You’re doing great,” Luke says, his voice steady and encouraging. “Just keep your core tight.”
We slowly, painstakingly, work our way up to more advanced stunts, progressing from shoulder level to arms fully extended, two-handed stunts. Then, a single attempt at a one-arm lib brings a whole new wave of pressure.
Each time I’m lifted into the air, there’s a moment of sheer panic before I remember Luke’s there, ready to catch me if I fall. But it’s not just about trust; it’s about relearning my own balance, adjusting in more ways than one.
“Tighter, Ella. Trust that I’ve got you,” Ash instructs after a particularly shaky landing. His hands are firm on my waist, steadying me. “Again?”
I nod, determined not to let my frustration show, reminding myself that failure is a part of growth.
We go up again, and this time I focus on keeping my core engaged, and on the feel of Ash’s hand guiding me through the motion.
It’s better, not perfect, but there’s a thrill in the improvement.
A spark of excitement that maybe I can get the hang of this sooner than I thought.
After several more attempts at the one-arm lib, with each one slightly better than the last, we take a break. Ash flops down onto the mat, patting the spot next to him. I sit, trying to catch my breath.
“It’s a different beast, isn’t it?” he says, his tone light.
“Yeah, it really is. But it’s … fun, I think. Once you get past the sheer terror,” I joke, and he gives a warm laugh in response.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be caught up in no time. And hey, if you can handle this after just one day, imagine where you’ll be by the start of the season.”
His confidence in me, unwarranted as it may seem, lifts my spirits. “Thanks, Ash,” I say. “For the pep talk and the patience.”
“Any time.” He offers me a hand up, and I take it, feeling steadier than I have since I arrived. “That’s what teammates are for, right?”
“To help you fly?”
He winks. “To make sure you don’t hit the ground too hard when you inevitably fall.”