Chapter 2
Sloane
I’m almost at the finish line in the race that is high school, and I’ve finally been given the excuse to talk to Eden. My white whale.
She’s intrigued me for years, but we’ve always run in different social circles.
Now, it’s not like I couldn’t have spoken to her earlier.
I wouldn’t have been shunned by the cheer squad or anything.
It’s just that, for some inexplicable reason, my usually impeccable game is missing when it comes to her.
Whenever I’m close, my usual swagger dries up and all I end up achieving is a smile or a lame, “Hi.” I don’t understand it at all.
Becca, my best friend of seventeen years, says it’s Eden’s accent.
She has a theory that my brain short-circuits when I hear or imagine her British accent, which I’m positive is in the realm of possibility.
Eden’s voice is delicious. Not uppity like every British accent I’ve ever heard portrayed on tv or in movies.
No, Eden is rougher. She uses slang and her regional accent is…
common? I’ve no idea if that’s true. I know she originates from the middle of England, and I’ve often heard her tell people she’s common as muck, whatever that means.
I’ve admired her from afar since she arrived at Holcroft, in her tight black jeans and baggy hooded sweatshirts.
I don’t think she owns any other clothes, to be honest. The fact I’m so drawn to her is an anathema.
Eden is not my type at all. I like my women in dresses and labels, not in heavy boots that look like they’ve seen some hard times.
She also hates exercise, or any form of movement that might get the heart pumping above its resting rate.
I’m the cheer captain and on track to study sports science in college.
We’re completely incompatible, and yet I’m attracted to her. Wildly so.
I’d come to terms with the fact that she’d only ever be a high school fantasy. That was until Mr. Porter called me over in class earlier and came up with some bogus buddy scheme. One that had me partnering up with Eden.
His obsession with getting every person in the class to do some form of exercise is weird, but considering the position it’s just put me in, I’m now a fan.
Eden looked completely horrified when I told her, and at one point I almost felt bad enough to give her a way out.
That was until she flexed her jaw and sent tingles up my spine.
A strange turn-on, but it is what it is.
She reminds me a little of Vi from Arcane, sans the muscle.
A potted plant has more definition than Eden.
I wonder if she knows how much she looks like my favorite animated character.
Fuck, just the thought of her sends heat to my cheeks. It’s a good thing I’m out and proud, otherwise school would be hell trying to hide my ever-growing crush on her.
Becca almost squealed when I told her what had happened in gym.
She’s my biggest supporter outside my family.
We were born on the same day and have lived two doors down our entire lives.
She’s like a sister and knows everything about me.
Becca was the first person I came out to at the tender age of twelve.
Mom and Dad were a little later down the line at fifteen.
They both needed a little time to adjust, but by the end of the following month, everything was back to normal.
They’ve been relatively cool about meeting my girlfriends over the past two years.
There was Hilton, who lasted six weeks. She was all about appearance and being a power couple.
Not me at all, even though I’m sure a few of my classmates would find that hilarious.
After all, my dad really does own most of the town.
Then there was Josie. Three months we stuck together, but the spark just wasn’t there, and by that point I’d spotted Eden.
Since Josie there’s only been a couple of hook-ups, and by that I mean messy makeout sessions after a party.
My status as a virgin is well and truly in place.
Not by choice, I might add. I was too young when I first started dating and nowhere near ready to have sex.
That feeling changed over the past summer.
I watched a lot of sapphic content online and it flipped a switch in me. Now I’m constantly horny.
Admittedly, the first person I think of when doing it for the first time is Eden.
She’s always been the one I can see myself with, but maybe that’s reaching too far.
I’ve got one year left and I’m only just in the position to get to know her.
She might not be interested in me at all.
I only know she’s a lesbian because her best friend Pia tried to set her up with Reid Mason, the butch metal worker who shares most of their art classes.
Eden declined apparently. That’s all the information I was able to gather.
Now I have to find a way to get Eden into fitness, therefore extending our time together so I can figure out if she could like me.
“Walking!” Becca states as we drive home. “She spends all class walking on the treadmill, so start there.”
“I think Porter wants a little more than that,” I reply, skimming through TikTok for inspiration.
Becca laughs. “Of course he does, but you gotta be realistic Sloane. The girl looks one deep breath away from passing out. You can’t shock her system like that.”
I grin because she’s not wrong. Eden might be a talented artist—and she is because I snuck into the art room to look—but she’s no athlete.
“Oh, hey, we could do this Couch to 5K thing.”
“What does it entail?”
I read the guidelines of the website I’ve come across. “Simply put, we start by walking and then hope to get up to a run that covers five kilometers. It was a big thing in the UK a few years back.”
Becca bobs her head. “Yeah, that could work. There are plenty of places you could take her with nice, romantic scenery.”
Colorado is scenic. I wonder how much Eden has seen of it. My gut feeling says not a lot. I can imagine her squirreled away in her room, drawing and painting for days on end without ever popping her head outside.
This could work.
I spend the rest of the journey home checking out easy trails and nice places to eat.
Becca drops me off with a promise to talk later.
We have a game over the weekend and need to discuss the squad.
I’m not happy with some of the girls, and plan to make some changes.
Becca is my second in command and always gives me her honest opinion.
I want this team to be the best cheer squad Holcroft has ever seen.
“Hey, honey,” my mom calls as soon as I step through the door. She’s cooking up a storm, which means there’s a charity function on the horizon.
Bethany Bishop is a force to be reckoned with.
She’s my idol. Pregnant at sixteen with me, she and my father worked tirelessly to make something of themselves, and boy did they ever.
Most people think I was born into wealth, but it came off the back of my parents’ relentless pursuit of proving themselves.
“Hi, Mom, need any help?”
“Sure, baby. Could you put a salad together? Your dad plans on grilling again with the promise he eats something green.”
Laughing, I shed my school bag, wash my hands, and begin prepping the veggies. My dad loves red meat a little too much. The doctor has told him to cut back, so my mom is on a mission to get as many vegetables in his diet as possible.
“How was school?”
“The usual, although I have a new gym buddy.”
Mom stops chopping and looks at me. Her smile tells me she already knows who it is. Did I mention I’m terrible at keeping things from her? Mom has known about my crush on Eden since the beginning.
“By the way your cheeks have gone red, I’m going to guess it’s a certain young woman with a name beginning with E.”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh. “You’re a dork, and yes it’s Eden.”
She claps and does a weird little shimmy dance, which makes me laugh. “So, you’re finally going to ask her out then?”
“Whoa. I spoke to her for like five minutes today, and that was awkward. She’s not happy about it at all.”
“Well, she wouldn’t be, would she? A stiff breeze could outrun that girl.”
My laugh echoes around the kitchen. “Very true. She’s going to pout so hard.”
We chuckle together. I’m talking like I know Eden way better than I do, but I’ve observed her for years.
Not in a creepy way. I know some of her character, and how she responds to certain things.
Her arguments with Mr. Porter are widely known, and she makes her dislike for gym abundantly clear in every class.
It’s not a stretch when I say she’ll pout.
I envision our first few classes together will be like pulling teeth, but I’m persistent.
“Oh, I’m so excited for you, honey.” Mom laughs.
“I’m nervous,” I admit. “What if after all this time she’s not even interested?”
Mom blows a raspberry. “Not possible. You’re amazing in every way a human can be.”
“I think you’re a little biased,” I reply, smiling.
“Still true though.”
I was surprised when I first told my parents about the crush I had on Eden.
She’s nothing like my ex-girlfriends and I’ll admit I thought they’d judge her unfavorably, which was unfair of me.
They have money, but they’re not snobs and have never been those people.
Maybe it was my own internalized snobbery coming out to play.
Eden looks like she’s just fallen out of bed most days, whereas I’m the polished cheerleader everyone expects. Yeah, definitely my issues at work.
“Well, we have class together tomorrow afternoon. I’m going to suggest we do this walking to running challenge. Start off small. Plus, it would be a good reason to see her outside of school.”
Mom nods approvingly. “Good plan, honey. She’s welcome here anytime. You could use the sauna, or the gym, or the pool.”
“I’ve gotta get her into sportswear first, Mom. I think bathing suits are a little way off.”
“Who are you trying to get in swimwear?” Dad asks. He’s in his finest suit, which means he’s had to wine and dine someone important.
“Sloane’s been buddied up with Eden in gym,” Mom announces.
Dad cracks a wide smile and holds out his hand for a fist bump. “Way to go, kid. When’s the date?”
“No date,” I say.
“Yet,” Mom tacks on.
We spend some time laughing and joking about my crush on Eden.
I know it’s silly and I should have done something about it ages ago.
I get butterflies when I think of her, and something tells me she’s going to be special.
She’s the right-time-kind-of-girl, not the anytime-kind-of-girl.
Before, I was only ready for anytime. Now, I’m ready for Eden.
My prediction that Eden would pout was spot on. She’s frowning so hard when I approach her the next day outside the locker room. All is not lost, though, because she has a small tote bag with her that I’m pretty sure has sneakers in it.
“This is blackmail,” she shouts as soon as I’m within hearing distance. Her accent washes over me and makes me tingle. “I’m here under duress,” she continues.
“You’re here because it’s gym class.” I laugh.
Her jaw flexes and I can almost see how badly she wants to stomp her foot. There’s paint on her hands and a little on her cheek. I wonder how the piece is coming along.
Instead of asking and outing myself as an art sneak, I cross my hands over my chest and stand directly in front of her. My heart stutters a little when I catch her eyes looking at my legs before she snaps them to the floor.
“Eden. This doesn’t have to be painful.”
She scoffs. “Just being in the class is painful enough.”
Sighing, I try again. “We can just do some walking to begin with. Nothing strenuous.”
She mumbles something to herself before looking at my face. “Do I really have to get changed?”
My first instinct is to roll my eyes, but then it occurs to me she might be genuinely shy or uncomfortable with her body. It would surprise me because I think her body is…phew, it just got hot in here.
“No, you don’t have to change. In fact, why don’t we walk outside?”
She eyes me. “And not go into the gym at all?”
“Sure. I’ll tell Mr. Porter, and I’ve got my sports tracker on, so I can prove we walked.”
I can see the cracks. She’s softening to the idea. Biting my lip, I wait her out until she gives one giant huff and then nods.
The urge to fist the air in victory is strong, but I manage to hold it in until I’m out of sight. Mr. Porter is impressed with my progress and happily agrees to us walking around the school grounds. I feel like I’m batting a thousand.
Eden is still sporting a pout as we drop our stuff in the locker room and head out, but she’s stopped scowling so that’s something.
This is the first time in nearly four years that we’ve been alone together. Suddenly I feel nervous, which is way out of character, and I don’t like it one bit.
The sun is shining, but there’s little heat to it. I worried we’d overheat as we walked, but we’re going so slowly I’m now worried I might catch a chill.
“Do you want to maybe pick up the pace a little?”
Another irritated sigh, but she moves a little faster. I’m wracking my brain trying to think of something to say when she growls and stops. I stop too and wait.
“Why are you doing this? Like seriously.”
“Because Mr. Porter asked me, and I think it’s a good idea.”
“Bullshit.”
There’s fire in her voice and I like it. Usually, she gives me just one- or two-word answers. Not counting yesterday, this is the most she’s spoken to me, ever.
“Not bullshit,” I reply calmly. “I enjoy gym, but I know plenty who don’t. However, it is a required class, and you have to pass it to graduate. Is walking with me that hard to do?”
She looks at me and then away again. “No, it’s not.”
“You could have ended up with Harley if I hadn’t stepped in.”
She screws her face up. “Fuck, no.”
I laugh because Harley is a gross frat wannabe. He’s got the emotional range of potato and wandering hands.
“So look on the bright side, okay? Now walk.”