Sixteen
“Camryn quit.”
Who knew a simple sentence uttered by Coach Smithson could cause such an uproar?
Several gasps emanated through the room.
Luna’s brow knitted together as Meredith spun toward Kendra, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.
Ugh . Overexaggerate, much? It wasn’t like she had died.
I stood next to Coach Smithson, shooting her a quick glance as we listened to the commotion heighten around us.
Inaudible mutterings flooded my ears, one person’s words overlapping another’s.
“What? Why?” Meredith shouted above the other voices. She directed her attention to the coach. “Did you kick her off the team?”
“No.”
“Did Clarke ?”
Anger clouded Meredith’s eyes as she glared at me the minute my name rolled off her tongue. Placing my hand on my hip, I sneered back at her.
“No, it wasn’t Clarke’s decision.”
“Then, why’d she quit?”
“She didn’t want to be on the team anymore,” I answered plainly.
Luna puffed out her lower lip. “Why not?”
“ Why Camryn quit isn’t important,” Coach Smithson chastised. “What is important is that we’ve found someone else to fill her shoes.”
Meredith couldn’t control her excitement as she blurted out, “Really? Who is it?”
I smiled smugly. “Andrew Green.”
Her face fell. A look of utter disgust washed over her features, causing my smile to deepen.
Kendra’s eyes grew wide, but her mouth stayed shut.
Confused glances were thrown around as I internally cackled at their unease.
Satisfaction soon turned into irritation as their musings grew louder.
Once again, the gymnasium was alive with turmoil, taking the form of ten teenage girls with a deadly allergy to a single male presence.
Were cooties still a thing in high school?
Because it sure as hell felt like everyone thought it was.
Pain pulsed through my eardrums as a chorus of cries filled the air.
“A boy?”
“As a cheerleader?”
“What if he’s a pervert?”
“He’s gay,” I deadpanned.
“I’ve never seen a boy on the cheer team.”
“What if he’s faking being gay?”
“Can he even cheer?”
I shifted my weight onto one leg, crossing my arms at their entitlement. Jesus. And to think I had the same mindset—albeit forced—only a few months ago. I stared straight ahead with a bored expression, waiting for their unfounded complaints to die down.
To no surprise, Meredith made her thoughts abundantly clear as she spoke again. “No.” She exaggeratedly shook her head. “There’s no way.”
Coach Smithson shrugged. “It’s been decided. He’s on the team.”
“We haven’t even seen him cheer!”
“Yes, we did,” I countered before she could squeeze in another excuse. “During tryouts, just like everyone else.”
“But—”
“Sorry, Meredith.” Not sorry. “It’s not your decision.”
“Alright, ladies.” Coach Smithson clapped. “We don’t have many cheer events left for the school year, but I expect you all to show up for practice regardless, so I’ll see you all on Friday.”
“ All ?” Meredith questioned pointedly.
“Yes, Meredith.” The coach sighed as creases became visible on her forehead. “That means Andrew will be here, too.”
Everyone seemed to deflate at the mention of his name, sagging their shoulders. Coach Smithson dismissed us with a wave of her hand. I balled my hands into fists at my side, digging my nails into my skin. The muscles in my jaw tightened as Meredith sulked over to me.
“This was your idea, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“Is this some lame attempt at getting revenge?”
“Not everything’s about you,” I muttered, throwing my bag over my shoulder. “Andrew was great during tryouts, and we needed another cheerleader.”
“You knew I said I’d leave if he was on the team.”
“Well, nothing’s stopping you, so…”
A sickly-sweet smile grazed over her lips. “And to think I was going to let you win Prom Queen.”
“I don’t need your handouts, Meredith. I’m perfectly capable of—”
“Oh, please! You were no one before you met me. Just because you’re the captain now, doesn’t mean you can control me.” She took two steps closer to me, her pupils constricting. “I made you, Clarke, and I can destroy you just as easily.”
Beads of sweat formed on my face, lining my brows.
The hands glued to my side began to quake.
Looking down at my feet, I swallowed a wave of anxiety creeping its way out of my abdomen.
My eyes lost their focus as I stared at nothing at all.
When I looked up at Meredith again, my lips were stretched tight like a rubber band waiting to snap.
“I’ll see you Friday.”
As the days ticked on, I pushed every thought of Meredith aside and tried to focus on school.
Mrs. Hawthorne’s class had been surprisingly tame so far.
Not that I wanted to jinx anything, but there had been no detentions yet.
I’d count that as a win. Especially for Elliot .
He was even holding his own in class, answering questions, studying for exams, doing his own assignments—of course, he asked me to revise his homework if there were any errors, but he was doing more than I ever expected him to.
He was by no means an ‘A+’ student, but he was actually trying, which was something I never thought he was capable of.
Not when we first met, at least. I just think he needed a reason to fight, and he found it in his sister.
Not that I was analyzing every angle of his life with a magnifying glass or anything, but I think he was trying to be a role model for her.
Elliot feverishly scribbled in his notebook, jotting down Mrs. Hawthorne’s words as she discussed how to write a SOAPSTone essay.
Speaker.
Occasion.
Audience.
Purpose.
Subject.
Tone.
I tapped my pencil against the paper, my thoughts too scattered to care about learning. I pulled out my journal, flipping the pages until I saw the Totally-not-real relationship rules . My eyes raked over the list until I got stuck on rule number three.
Clarke does all of Elliot’s homework, no questions asked
It felt unfair that he did most of his own work when I still held him captive in this faux relationship. He didn’t need me anymore. So, why was he staying?
“Pssst!” Elliot whispered not-so-quietly. “You readin’ porn?”
I glared at him as I closed my journal and held it up for him to see. Tapping the cover, I asked, “Does this answer your question?”
He shrugged.
Mrs. Hawthorne instructed everyone to work on their essays in relation to the prominent women’s rights speech, Ain’t I A Woman, by Sojourner Truth. Her heels clicked steadily as she walked back over to her desk and sat down.
The class began talking quietly among themselves.
Metal scraped against the ceramic tiles as Elliot awkwardly dragged his chair closer to mine.
Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes darkened with irritation as she peered at us peaking over the bridge of her glasses.
“Do you ever go anywhere without that thing?” he asked, nodding toward my journal.
“I have everything in here.”
“Like what?”
“Book ratings, my favorite quotes, Prom stuff, fake dating rules—”
“Ah, the most important one.”
“You’re doing really good, by the way,” I acknowledged with my head lowered. “At the whole school thing.”
“Only because of you.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Refusing to take credit for your grades.”
“I’m not saying I haven’t been busting my ass ‘cause I have, but without your help, I’d be stuck watching shitty YouTube videos created by some dimwit teacher who only has half as many brain cells as you.”
A sad smile tugged at my lips. “Thanks, Elliot.”
His face contorted as he stared at me. Grabbing the sides of my chair, he twisted it, so that we were looking straight at each other. His eyes locked onto mine, sparkling with wonder.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“You don’t need me anymore. So, this whole relationship thing…you don’t have t—”
“This ‘ thing’ isn’t over until I graduate, and you win Prom Queen.
You can’t get rid of me that easily, Princess.
” He smirked, tipping his chin downward.
“Besides, our story is just getting good. Andrew’s joining the cheer team for fuck sake!
You gotta tell me how that goes—he’s not the most reliable with that stuff.
He’ll just make up some crazy story about how he stopped someone from breaking their neck. ”
“Yeah.” I chuckled, trying to hide my amusement. “I guess.”
“This is a historic thing too, ya know? When’s the last time you remember a guy being on the cheer team?”
“I don’t.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, it’s the least I could do for blatantly ignoring him every year. He’s actually really good.”
“He takes some kind of dance class or something.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Elliot inhaled sharply and pursed his lips. “He shows off his flexibility all the time. Even that one time during the tornado warning when we had to sit out in the hallway for an hour, he was doing the splits the whole time.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Well, I definitely was. I’ve never seen a dude do the splits.” He shifted in his chair, grimacing. “Where do your balls go?”
“Abercrombie, stop.” I covered my mouth, kicking the leg of his chair with my sneakers.
My toe ached.
A shooting pain radiated up my leg the minute I came into contact with his seat. I flared my nostrils, swallowing a groan.
Elliot grasped the underside of his chair, a devious smirk on his face as he scooted even closer to me. He smacked his lips, playfully flipping invisible tresses over his shoulder.
“It’s giving Ren from Footloose .”
Laughter spilled from my lips, my breath hitching as the vibrations swelled in my throat. He flicked his wrist with a dainty flair, watching as I doubled forward, clutching my abdomen.
“I love you for knowing that movie, but oh my god, stop.” I cackled, dying with laughter as I hunched forward in my seat, slapping my hand against the desk.
His eyelids lowered. “You love me?”
My cheeks became swollen as a pink hue flooded my face. The whites of my eyes expanded, leaving them comparable to saucers.
“No! Not like—umm…that’s not what I—”
“Ms. Taylor, Mr. Keller, mind your volume!” Mrs. Hawthorne scolded with an icy glare, sending shivers down my spine.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“My bad,” Elliot simultaneously offered.
She slowly pried her gaze away from the two of us, returning her attention to the stack of papers on her desk . My heart fluttered as Elliot and I locked eyes.
“So, did you know SOAPstone isn’t soap made out of stone? Weird, huh?”
I rammed my shoe into his chair.