The low murmurs of confusion over who won ripple through the crowd, but Jared and I are still locked in a battle of wills, even as they drag us apart.

“She hates you.” He grins through bloody teeth. “She’s always going to hate you.”

I lunge for him, breaking free from the arms around me long enough to land one final blow. Knocking him out cold.5KailaniSomehow, I’ve managed to survive the first week with only a handful of private meltdowns. I consider that a victory, but I still can’t shake this eerie feeling that it’s almost been too easy. Audrey is way too quiet for my liking, which means she’s definitely scheming, and Landon has been dutifully ignoring me since our spat in the pool house.

“That’s good, right?”

I blink at Courtney, my cheeks heating when I realize I must have said that out loud.

“You want him to leave you alone.” She grabs her foot behind her butt, stretching out her hamstring. “He’s a total dirtbag.”

“Yeah,” I choke out my agreement. “He is.”

Honestly, I wish I could be as certain as Courtney sounds. But the worst part about not remembering what happened is that I still question my own sanity, even after all this time. Most days, I’m mad as hell. This grudge I bear has kept me warm, but there are still moments when the doubts creep back in. What really happened?

It’s a rabbit hole I can’t venture down. The only thing I know for certain is the bone-deep truth that doesn’t waver. What happened at that party isn’t me. No matter how much alcohol I had, it doesn’t make sense. I’ve been trying to play it off as though it isn’t a big deal. Like losing your virginity to two guys could totally happen to anyone. But it still feels like a big deal to me.

“Stop picking yourself apart.” Courtney drags me away from the mirror in the locker room. “You look great.”

“Really?” I smooth my hands over the red and black sequined dance dress. I haven’t been able to shake my nerves all day. It’s the first game of the season, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“You need to stop worrying about what they think.” She bounces up onto the toes of her clean white shoes, warming her body in preparation.

“It’s not about them,” I insist.

But it is. It’s always about them. Because they make me feel small. Insignificant. I’m just the collateral damage from their fun and games. They want to see me crumple and fall. This is their domain, and as far as they’re concerned, I’ll never be worthy of breathing the same air.

“Twenty minutes until showtime.” Coach Lopez pops her head into the girls’ locker room. “You ready to do one last run-through?”

Courtney offers me an encouraging smile as I nod. “Let’s do it.”

We follow Coach out to the empty gym. Outside, the crowd is going wild for BMA. They are winning just as expected. Everyone is so pumped this halftime routine should be a cakewalk. But high school football isn’t just entertainment in Black Mountain. It’s a religion. Or cult, if I’m more accurate. You’re either dedicated to the cause, or you’re against it. When I walk out onto that field tonight, I’ll be breaking the status quo. Everyone expects to see a legacy’s daughter. They’ll anticipate the same old routines they could set their clocks by. Instead, we’re going to shake things up with a mashup of samba, belly dance, and jazz. It’s a big gamble. An unconventional aesthetic in the production line of their carefully curated lives.

“Alright, ladies.” Coach Lopez tucks her clipboard against her side and scans our uniforms, checking for consistency. “One last rundown. Let’s make it count.”

Leading the charge, I break down the moves we’ve practiced all week while the rest of the team follows along fluidly. For a few blissful moments, we are united. A strong, synchronized machine. But the devious smirk on Audrey’s face as we prep is eating at me. She’s up to something. I just don’t know what it is.

There isn’t time to think about it. A few minutes later, Coach is leading us onto the dead center of the field under the glare of the lights and bleachers packed with fans. The energy in the air is potent as the announcer introduces the Cougarettes dance team. That same energy is vibrating through my veins as I repeat the mantra in my head.

I’ve got this.

Nothing can take this moment away. Across the field, I catch Landon staring at me. His uniform stained with grass, eyes colder than ever as his helmet dangles from his fingers. I suck in a breath when I notice the purple and blue bruises on his face. Five feet away, Jared is covered in bruises too. I’m trying to unpack the reason for it when Jared glances at Landon, and then swings his gaze back to me, blowing me an overexaggerated kiss. I force my face into a smile as the microphone crackles to life, and the announcer informs the crowd the Cougarettes will be performing a Black Mountain classic.

Tags: A. Zavarelli Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net