“That’s exactly right.” Mrs. Rothschild practically snarls at me. “We have standards at Black Mountain Academy. A legacy to uphold. Our traditions have been in place much longer than you’ve been around, and it isn’t up to you to change how things are done.”
“I understand those traditions have been around for a long time.” My fingernails dig into my thighs beneath the table. “Because it shows. The routines are stale. The Cougarettes can do better, given a chance.”
Her lips flatten into a thin line as she glares at Coach Lopez. “Are you going to do something about this?”
Coach Lopez sighs, and honestly, I wouldn’t blame her for throwing me under the bus at this point. This battle we started was my idea, and she is clearly exhausted from years of dealing with women like Mrs. Rothschild.
“I understand emotions are high right now,” Coach answers. “Traditions have always been important at Black Mountain Academy, and we have no intention of eliminating them completely. Our vision for this year was to incorporate the new with the old. There will still be ample opportunities to present traditional dance routines at the upcoming games, in addition to the new routines.”
“Oh yes, I can see how well that plan has worked so far.” Mrs. Rothschild stares down her nose at Coach, refusing to acknowledge I even exist at this point. “The mockery of the first game will be forever written in our history. Are we to expect our daughters to be the laughingstock of every game this season under your captain’s direction?”
“Maybe you should ask your daughter that,” I hiss. “Considering she was the one who thought it was a good idea to sabotage all of us for the sake of her pride.”
Coach holds up her hand as the vein in Mrs. Rothschild’s Botoxed forehead pulses like she’s about to implode. “Kail, let me handle this.”
“You can handle it by getting rid of her!” Mrs. Rothschild slices her finger through the air like a machete.
“What happened at the first game is not an indication of Kailani’s abilities as a captain,” Coach replies in a steady, controlled voice. “She earned the position, and through no fault of her own, she was sabotaged and humiliated. While we have not identified the perpetrator yet, I can promise you when we do, they will be punished to the fullest extent allowed by the Academy’s guidelines.”
Her words sound like a thinly veiled threat, and Mrs. Rothschild doesn’t miss it.
“Sabotaged,” she scoffs. “Where is the proof? If you haven’t caught said perpetrator, it’s probably because there isn’t one. This just sounds like a convenient excuse to me.”
My fingers tremble when I meet Audrey’s gaze. She knows what she did, but the indifference on her face right now only proves one thing. She’ll never get caught, and even if she does, her mother will probably buy her way out of it. How can I possibly compete with that?
Coach Lopez shakes her head and stands. “Mrs. Rothschild, I think it’s quite clear we won’t be coming to an agreement today—"
“I want the routines changed back.” Mrs. Rothschild slaps her hand against the table. “And the committee agrees that Audrey should take over as captain.”
“It’s not the committee’s job to choose the dance captain,” Coach responds tiredly. “It’s mine.”
“Are you sure you want to die on this hill?” Mrs. Rothschild arches a pale brow, looking every bit the villain in this scenario.
“Excuse me?” Coach cocks her head to the side.
“I’d give it some serious thought before you make your decision.” Audrey’s mother rises from her seat, and the rest of the committee members follow suit. “Ask yourself if it’s worth losing your job. Because if you go to war with me, I can promise you won’t win. I have unlimited resources, and all you have is your pathetic little dancer wannabe. Nobody will miss either of you when you’re gone.”
“That sounds like a threat.” Coach laughs hollowly. “Which means we’re done here. Come with me, Kailani.”Thirty minutes later, we leave the principal’s office after giving our statements that Mrs. Rothschild openly threatened us in front of an entire committee. Mr. Dawson didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of dealing with the situation, and Coach doesn’t seem confident in the outcome either. With Mr. D’s vague assurances he would look into it, all we can do is wait.
“I don’t want you to lose your job because of me,” I tell Coach once we’re in the hall.
She offers me a sad smile. “Kail, if I lose my job, it’s because of a corrupt institution, not you. And I don’t want you to worry about it, okay? Let’s just focus on what’s important. Championships, remember?”
“Right, championships.” My body feels like it’s weighed down by cinder blocks. That’s so far away, and there will be so many battles before we can get there.