First and Tension (Summersweet Island 4)
Twenty points go to Emily.
“Well, I’m just happy to see you two seemed to have fared quite well after all that nasty business in the media. Sometimes, a little adversity strengthens a bond,” Jeanie says, turning her attention away from us momentarily to ask the waiter to refill our waters.
“Stop touching my hair,” Emily whispers to me out the corner of her mouth.
My fingers continue twirling a lock of her soft, shiny hair, just like I’ve been doing since we finished eating. I leaned back in my chair to rest my arm across the back of Emily’s, while she finished up a story about her and her friends having too much to drink one night and riding all their bicycles right off the dock and into the Summersweet Island Pond.
“My fingers are bored. What else should I do with them?” I tease back under my breath, thoroughly fascinated by the little shiver she makes whenever I twirl a lock of her hair, the tips of my fingers grazing the soft, exposed skin on the back of her shoulder.
“Stick them up your a—”
“What I’m really interested in discussing with you,” Jeanie begins again when the waiter walks away, making Emily cut off her whispered threat, “is what actually happened when you were fired from cheering for the Vipers.”
A smile is pasted on Emily’s face, but I know by the tension in her shoulders as she sits forward in her chair to fold her hands together tightly on the table that talking about this isn’t something that makes her very happy. And now I feel like a dick for teasing her about being fired, when I was chasing her around the island, trying to get her to accept my dare.
Since Tyler’s family is friends with Ellen Westwood’s family, he got all the details about Emily’s firing when the rumors started circulating, and he wanted to know who the hell she was. He called me last night at the hotel, still trying to get me to end this ridiculous charade, since according to him, Emily was still a loose cannon who could go off at any minute and embarrass me. I thought he was a dumbass when he said that to me last night, and I still think it right now, especially after witnessing with my own two eyes just how amazing Emily is. It doesn’t matter if she lost it for whatever reason and got fired. Everyone has done something stupid they regret at least once in their life, and there is no way I’m going to hold it against her.
“Do you want the truth, or what everyone thinks is the truth, which Ellen Westwood twisted for her own selfish, narcissistic reasons?” Emily finally answers Jeanie, making my head whip to the side to stare at Emily’s profile in confusion.
“I do so enjoy your brutal honesty.” Jeanie smiles at her before continuing. “I’m not an idiot, my dear. I do my own research. I know better than to trust internet trolls or even the words that came directly from Ellen’s mouth when I asked her about it last week. I never really liked that woman when I met her at a charity event a few years ago, and the conversation we had last week did not change my opinion of her. So, I’d like to hear it in your own words.”
Well, fuck… what the hell?
Emily’s tense shoulders relax just a bit, but not enough for my liking.
“I basically got fired for asking for water.” Emily shrugs while another waiter just so happens to come up to the table and refill all our water glasses at that moment, and I sit up straighter in my chair and pay attention. “I mean, not just for that. Over the last year I cheered for the Vipers, I asked for a bunch of silly things.”
Emily laughs, but it’s not my favorite mischievous chuckle. It’s full of hurt, and I don’t like that either, but I try to keep my cool while she continues, gripping tightly to the back of her chair where my arm still rests.
“I also asked that we get paid for all the hours we work, and not just for the four hours we cheer on Sunday. On a typical week, I would get off of work from one of the two other jobs I needed to have in order to be able to afford living in California, to rush to get to the studio by six, where we would practice until at least ten at night. And that’s on a good night, when everyone can get it together quickly. Normally, we didn’t get out of there much before midnight. We also practiced for at least five or six hours on Saturday, and a few hours before game time. We don’t get paid for any of that. Not until the clock starts ticking on the scoreboard. We were just expected to be appreciative of the opportunity we’d been given and keep our mouths shut. And we were. Of course we were appreciative. Being on that team can open a lot of doors for a lot of women. But they used our bodies and our faces every single day to make money for that team, and I just wanted things to be fair,” Emily explains, making me feel ill that these girls put in so much work and don’t even get compensated for it.