Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AVERY
“Yes, Avery! Feet together and— Nice! Yes!” Ashton, my captain, pulls her attention from me to someone new as we finish today’s practice with one final run of our halftime routine. I book it across the Marley flooring, wedging my way into the final formation—a kick line.
I stare at a light dangling from the rafters of our practice room, cheesing so hard my cheeks hurt as I bring my knee to my face again and again.
The pendulum light reminds me of the grow-lights Mary just ordered at the shop, and I wonder if they came in yet.
Once practice is finally over, maybe I should stop by the store to check.
Maybe I should have her hold one for me so I can surprise Ty with it.
My body operates off muscle memory as I try to pull my thoughts back to the present. What the heck, Avery? You’re in the middle of high kicks, and you’re thinking about grow-lights?
Dropping my arms to my sides, the kick line separates, and I move to my ending spot just as clean and pristine as the Kings require.
Their brand is nothing if not flawless, and they expect their performances—and performers—to be just as immaculate.
We all hit our final pose, trying to catch our breath as the music fades.
I let my eyes travel from face to face of the girls beside me.
They’re so incredibly talented. And I’m worthy of dancing next to them.
Dancing is something I’m good at, like really good at.
So why isn’t that enough for me? Why am I thinking about being at that dusty old home and garden store instead?
“Remember, shoulders down, chest up. Don't yank on each other. Kicks and posture should be weightless and effortless. And this goes without saying, but point your toes. Really extend through that ankle. The kickoff game is next weekend. So we have one more week of practice to perfect this, and we’re just about there.” Ashton claps her hands together.
“That’s a wrap for today, ladies! Good work. ”
I gulp water as I pack up my dance bag, following Larissa and the rest of the team out into the hallway.
“Avery? Could you stay for a moment please? Won’t be long, I promise.” Our choreographer’s voice is barely audible over the echo of the girls filing down the corridor.
My heart sinks, and Larissa freezes too. I plaster on what I hope is a reassuring grin. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in just a second.”
Larissa nods and peels off with another group of girls, but I catch her glance back at us as they head toward the exit.
“What’s up, Stace?” I try to keep my voice steady as I join her outside our practice room.
A line forms between her light brows at the too-casual nickname. “I just wanted to check in. How are you?”
The question is loaded, launching an assault on my upbeat exterior. Don’t crack, Avery. Smile. Answer the question. Don’t give her a chance to second-guess adding you to the team. You belong here, so make her believe it.
I tighten my grin. “How am I? Great. Wonderful, actually. Every day I have practice is a good day.”
A little smile curves her lips, but her eyes are less than cheery.
“I know you’re happy to be here, but sometimes the transition onto the team can still be difficult.
Sometimes the things we’re most excited about can still bring on anxiety.
You seemed a little…restless during the last half of practice. ”
I feel like this is a test. Is she testing me?
Part of me wonders if she’s mistaking my fidgeting for nervousness.
I can’t bring myself to correct her and tell her it’s most likely the ‘ol ADHD. Instead, I say, “I’m not anxious. Excited, yes. But I feel fine. I mean, I’ve been looking for a new roommate, but I’ve got it under control. ”
“I thought you had a roomie? I’ll keep an eye out for you.
” She tilts her head, steps back, and checks her watch.
"Regardless, we're so happy to have you on the team. We all recognize how long you’ve wanted this. We admire your ambition, but we just want to make sure you’re upholding the Kings’ image in every aspect.
And we want to know if there’s a way we can help you do that. ”
Apparently alleged anxiety doesn’t fit their aesthetic. I doubt my specific flavor of ADHD does either.
“Of course. Yes. I appreciate that.”
My brain buzzes as I offer Stacey a wave and flounce down the hallway as though everything is perfectly fine.
Which I thought it was… until I was pulled aside.
Staring up at her, a dozen other previous teachers, parents, and bosses flash before my eyes.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had to have a “check-in” with a superior. A familiar unease bursts through me.
“What was that about?” Larissa pops out of the shadows, giggling when I gasp at her sudden appearance. “You told me to wait for you.”
“Yeah, sorry.” I clear my throat. “She was just asking how I’m doing.”
Larissa’s brows knit. “And how are you doing?”
“Fine. Obviously.”
She tilts her head, her lips parting as though she’s about to ask something else, but her phone rings, saving me from an excuse or a lie or whatever my little brain would have concocted.
She presses it to her ear as we arrive at our cars, and I’m grateful to have a few minutes to calm my nerves as she wraps up the conversation.
“That was Josh. He’s with Ryan. Which reminds me, I forgot to send you Ryan’s pic.” She swipes through her phone, then holds it out, and there on the screen is some guy with buzzed black hair.
“He’s cute.” He’s no Ty, but he’s not bad.
“He wants to meet you.”
I unlock my car door, avoiding eye contact. “Oh?”
All I want is to be home curled up on that squishy couch with Dollyboy, staring at a windowsill of plants, Ty’s sounds reverberating down the hall as he does his little mundane tasks like organizing his pantry and working out.
An unexpected giddiness vibrates through me, and I stop in my tracks like someone just yoinked my ponytail.
You didn’t just get excited about your roommate. Yeah, Ty’s hot. And he’s nice to your cat. But he—correction, his house—is not home. Ty is a friend with a room. That’s it.
If anyone could hear my thoughts, there’s no doubt they’d think I was losing my mind. And who’s to say. Maybe I am a little. It’s been a long month.
“You don’t have to meet up with him alone. We could do a little double date.” Her eyes light up as she leans on my car. “Please? It’s so fun hanging out with other couples.”
Eh. I can’t say I agree, but I keep that to myself. Throwing my bag into the car, I continue to avoid her question.
“You know, if things go well, maybe you and Ryan can go to the Santa Mirada Masquerade with us next month. It’s a costume ball! Josh’s company handled all the marketing, so they gave him some comps as a thank you.”
“A ball? Those are still a thing?”
She nods, barely containing her excitement. “It’s like a super early Halloween thing. A masquerade. Josh insisted we go. Sometimes he’s so romantic it’s cheesy.”
A green smog comes over me thicker than Vista City’s.
Immediately, I recognize it and bat it away.
There’s no reason to be envious of what she has.
A stable, lasting relationship is a luxury I’ve never been able to afford.
The hope still remains that someday I’ll find someone, but I have a feeling it isn’t Ryan.
Stop being so pessimistic, Avery.
Actually, a date might be just the thing I need to keep me from fantasizing about my roommate rearranging his pantry.
“We should probably hang out at least once before I commit to a ball.”
Larissa squeezes me into a hug, excitement rolling off her.
“Text me the details, and I’ll be there,” I add.
She waves goodbye, yapping about how great Ryan is all the way to her car. Blowing an exaggerated kiss, she finally dives into her seat and shuts the door.
I blast my favorite Lena Lux song—Self Sabotage—singing along as I flip on my blinker and chug my way across town and onto Soleil Drive.
My mind wars between what I just agreed to—a date with a stranger—and the only person I’m actually interested in going on a date with.
And not just a last-minute thing at home, a real one.
Ty pops into my mind, and I try desperately to remove him from it.
Think about Ryan, Avery. Ryan. The one who wants to meet you. The one who didn’t ask to see you out of sheer pity.
And then I can’t help but wonder: why did he want to meet up with me?
Because I’m a cheerleader? All he knows about me is how I pose in photos.
Larissa fancies herself a matchmaker, but I know nothing about him.
I can’t imagine she shared much about me.
The thought of Ryan being attracted to me solely based on my accomplishment feels…
wrong. I plucked and tanned and improved myself until I was the image of what other people expected from me.
Which, I guess, is a good thing. I like being attractive.
I like being praised for my dance abilities.
And I worked hard for these legs and even harder for hair this glossy, considering the amount of heat I put on it.
Chill out, crazypants. It’s not like you’re meeting him at the altar. It’s one date. And maybe a masquerade.
A giddy feeling bubbles up inside. Even if Ryan only likes the way I look, getting free tickets to a ball because of it might make it worth it.