Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
GAME NIGHT
TARYN
One last swipe of lip gloss and I’m game ready.
I smile at my reflection in the locker room’s mirror, and I almost don’t recognize the perfectly polished blonde bombshell that’s staring back at me.
During makeovers, we’ve been taught how to apply our makeup to achieve the highly polished but natural look Carole and Lexi envisioned for the Shooting Stars.
Thankfully, my nose hasn’t bruised after the incident during the kick line practice, and I was selected to dance tonight.
Nerves make my stomach contract at the thought of all those eyes on me. I’m one of the six dancers who will perform on a platform that will be lowered onto center ice.
“Tar, do I look ok? Or do you think I need to curl my hair on this side a little more?” Talia asks.
“Maybe just one of these strands right here.” I muse, brushing against a curl that’s falling flat.
Talia turns to check herself in the mirror. “You’re right. Can you help me? I can’t get to that spot very easily.”
“I can help you. I have my curling iron still plugged in.” Gen offers before I can agree to help.
“Hmm, no thanks.” Talia visibly recoils when Gen approaches her, brandishing the hot hair styling tool.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to help and you’re being a bitch.”
A look passes between me and Talia, but neither of us wants to confront Genevieve right now.
“Seriously,” she bites out. “Can someone explain why you’re looking at me like I’m Hannibal Lecter when I just offered my help?”
“We all know what happened the last time you helped someone. We’ve all seen Taryn’s boobs thanks to you.”
The look of horrified shock on Gen’s face looks so genuine that I almost suggest that she should pursue acting rather than dancing.
“Are you for real? That was an accident. How is it my fault if Taryn’s boobs are so big she had to have her uniform especially tailored? What do you think I’m gonna do? Burn you on purpose?”
Talia and I look at each other again.
“Fine,” Gen bites out. “Suit yourself. But don’t think this isn’t going to get back to Carole.
She told us how important team spirit is to her, and you’re refusing my kindness.
So fucking rude. You really don’t deserve to perform on the platform on Friday.
I hope Carole sees that she made the wrong choice. ”
Jodie, who’s been watching the whole exchange while putting the finishing touches to her own makeup, intervenes. “Is that why you’re offering to help?” She uses air quotes when she says help. “So if there’s another accident, you get to dance on the platform instead of them?”
Gen turns to glare at Jodie so fast that I’m surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. “First off, if Carole changed our position to the platform, you’d benefit too; since we’re stuck on the same line. But no. I was genuinely trying to help.”
Jodie’s eyes are narrowed, her tone suspicious.
“Then what’s your agenda? You said it many times that until the official team is announced, we’re competing with each other for a spot on the team.
So forgive us if we don’t believe in your selflessness.
Especially since you proved more than once that you would sell your own mother to get what you want. ”
“Is that how everyone feels?” Gen asks, looking around the locker room.
Almost everyone looks elsewhere; there are whispers and a couple of nervous laughs.
“Can you blame us, Gen?” I offer. “The incident at tryouts isn’t the only one. I almost didn’t dance today because you kicked me.”
Fury flashes in Gen’s blue eyes. “That was an—”
“Accident?” I offer. “Yeah, we know. Just forgive me if it’s a little hard to believe that when you happened to kick me right after complaining that you wanted to be in the front.”
Gen leans closer and lowers her voice. “Shut up. Are you seriously accusing me while the cameras are rolling?”
I turn and spot one of the film crew pointing her camera at us. The presence of the cameras has become a constant during practices and team meetings, so it’s easier and easier to forget they’re even there.
But now it’s obvious why Gen was trying to be nice.
My hunch is confirmed by her next words.
“I’m sorry for being klutzy the other day at practice, Taryn. You’re one of the best dancers on the team, and so is Talia. As your future captain, I wanted to help to show my support. This is all. But I can see how my track record lately could make you question my motives.”
Yup. Gen is acting for the film crew’s benefit.
After Sam and Fiona were cut for not perfecting the kick line to Carole and Lexi’s satisfaction, things are getting more real every day.
In four weeks, the official team will be announced, and Carole and Lexi will choose one of the thirty-two dancers on the final roster as team captain.
Gen’s words have the desired effect of making Talia look like the asshole in this situation if she refused her help.
Like I thought, Gen is trying to look good for her audience, so she helps Talia without any incidents this time.
“Five minutes, girls.” Marianne, the team coordinator, pops her head into the locker room.
“Give yourself the final touch ups, make sure all your valuables are secured in your lockers and come to see me outside. The six dancers on the platform will follow me; the six who are dancing in the stands in the home section will go with Adrianna, and Lexi is there for the six dancers in the UCLA section.”
The usual excitement mixed with dread that I always experience before every performance washes over me. The feeling is amplified tenfold, as I’ve never danced in front of so many people, especially if we count the ones watching the live stream of our pre-game show.
I open my locker to check my phone one last time before we go.
Two text messages are waiting for me in response to the good luck ones I sent earlier to Tucker and Colsen. I smile, as I didn’t expect to get an answer, knowing how strict their coach is.
Tucker: Thank you, baby. Give them hell. You’re gonna be the brightest star in this arena tonight.
Colsen: You’re gonna have millions of admirers after tonight. But I’m proud to be the one you’re gonna kiss later. Good luck, pretty girl.
I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face at reading their words.
As I’m about to turn my phone off, it vibrates with another incoming message.
I can’t help but think that it might be from Nash.
On second thought, it’s a stupid hope. I haven’t spoken to Nash since we bumped into the guys outside the doctor’s office.
And while I thought about texting him earlier, I didn’t. He made it more than clear that he doesn’t want to risk his good standing with Coach Harrison and that the fact that I’m seeing Colsen and Tucker is a deal breaker.
But the heart wants what the heart wants, and I almost expect to see his name flashing on the screen.
The text message is from an unknown number.
Unknown: What would the thousands of people watching you perform think if they knew they were watching a murderer and a slut? Would they lose their heads like your latest victim? I told you to break it off with them. The clock is ticking, bitch.
I throw my phone into my locker and slam the door shut as if the metal door could protect me from the threat in that text message.
“Tar-Tar,” Jodie looks concerned. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
A shiver works its way up my spine, and I mask it by pretending to shake to loosen my muscles. “I’m fine, Jo-Jo. I’m just nervous about the dance.” I hope she buys my excuse.
I was hoping the first message was just a fluke, but now it seems that someone really knows about what happened in Hemlock Beach. I should tell Jodie since she put everything on the line for me. But we need to go out into the arena for our first show, and there’s no time.
“Let’s smash it out there.” I force a smile on my face, and for a second it almost looks like Jodie wants to insist.
“Yeah. And don’t forget to have fun out there. Luckily, Gen isn’t dancing in your line.”
“True. You make sure you watch your back, ok? Hopefully she won’t try anything stupid tonight.”
Jodie pulls me into a hug, and that’s all the courage I need to face thousands of people filling the Cove Knights’ arena.
After the dark of the staircase that leads us to the platform, the bright lights of the ice rink are almost blinding.
As the black metal platform is lowered onto the ice, I look up at the mechanism that’s working above our heads. Could someone have tampered with that?
I exhale a breath of relief when we get to the ice without any incidents.
“City of Star Cove,” the mayor is standing right in front of our platform with a microphone in his hand.
“I have the pleasure of introducing to you the Star Cove Shooting Stars. They’re performing tonight to kick start the pre-season for our beloved team, the Cove Knights.
Please welcome the Stars with a big round of applause. ”
The noise the fans make is deafening and infectious. I should be ecstatic that their applause is for me and my teammates.
Instead, I look at the thousands of faces in the stands, wondering if the person who’s been sending me those threatening messages is watching me right now.
It could be anyone.
I need to shake off the fear that’s giving me goosebumps, or my performance will be a disaster.
My gaze wanders away from the stands and lands on the two teams lined up facing the mayor and our platform.
My eyes meet Tucker’s dark blue ones. The corners of his lips curl into a smile as he checks me out.
Colsen is right next to him. He doesn’t smile, maintaining his serious game face, but when the mayor is about to conclude his speech, he winks at me.
Mack is there too, his smile warm and encouraging.