BEYOND THE CAMPUS WALLS

Chapter 13: Tumbles and Tears

ARIANA’S POV

I stood frozen in the parking lot, my phone heavy in my hand, Logan’s number glowing on the screen. His words echoed—“Save it. It’ll save your life”—and my heart pounded, a mix of anger and something softer, something I didn’t want to name. His broad back disappeared into the fog, his boots crunching toward the hockey rink, leaving me alone with his scent—pine and earth—lingering like a ghost.

Who did he think he was? Telling me to stay away from Tobey, acting like he owned me, like he could control who I talked to, where I went? We’d met just yesterday, after my first cheer tryout, his golden eyes locking on mine in the gym, and now he was everywhere, his protectiveness suffocating. Sure, the boogeyman was after me—those yellow eyes, that rancid stench—but Logan’s intensity felt personal, possessive, and it scared me as much as it thrilled me.

My wrist itched under the bandage from my last fall, and I shook my head, shoving my phone into my pocket. I had cheer practice, and I was already late. My sneakers slapped the pavement as I ran across the quad, the fog swallowing the campus, students’ whispers trailing me like thorns. My cheeks burned, shame twisting my gut. My first time—my only time—with Logan in his car, rain pounding, his hands on me, had felt like a spark, a connection I couldn’t explain. But now it was a headline, my virginity a campus spectacle. Why me? Why was my mistake the one everyone knew?

I burst into the gym, my breath ragged, my red hair sticking to my neck. The cheer squad was already on the mats, their ponytails bouncing as they stretched, their chatter halting as I stumbled in. Coach Templeton’s eyes narrowed, her clipboard clutched tight, her blonde hair pulled into a severe bun.

“Ariana, you’re late,” she snapped, her voice cutting through the gym’s hum. “Cheer captain doesn’t get to stroll in whenever she feels like it.”

I swallowed, my throat dry, my hands trembling as I dropped my bag. “I’m sorry, Coach,” I said, my voice small. “I got… caught up.” My eyes flicked to the squad, catching Bella’s smirk, her blonde hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her blue eyes sharp with malice.

“Caught up with a man, probably,” Bella said, her voice loud, dripping with venom. “Everyone knows she’s been… busy getting on the down low with the hockey captain.”

Giggles rippled through the squad, heads turning, whispers rising like a tide. My face burned, my heart sinking as I saw the knowing looks, even Coach Templeton’s frown deepening.

“Bella, enough,” Coach snapped, stepping toward me, her eyes searching mine. “Ariana, you’re the captain. You shouldn’t have controversies tied to you, you don’t need distractions. You represent this team. Understood?”

I nodded, my throat tight, my eyes stinging. “Yes, Coach,” I whispered, but Bella’s laugh cut through, low and cruel.

“Controversies?” Bella said, tossing her hair. “She’s got plenty, Coach. I told y’all that she’s not exactly captain material, sleeping around like that.”

Her words hit like a slap, and the squad’s whispers grew louder, their eyes darting between us. I wanted to scream, to tell them it wasn’t like that, that Logan and I had connected, that I’d felt something real. But how could I explain the heat of his touch, the way his growls had undone me, when it was now a joke?

Coach’s jaw tightened, her voice sharp. “Bella, act your age. Unless you’ve got proof to back up your rumors, keep your mouth shut.”

Bella’s smirk faltered, and the squad quieted, but their eyes stayed on me, judging, mocking. My chest ached, shame and anger warring, but I swallowed the tears threatening to spill. Crying would only prove them right, give Bella the win she wanted.

“Let’s move,” Coach said, clapping her hands. “Ariana, lead the routine. Show them how it’s done.”

I nodded, my hands shaking as I stepped onto the mat, the squad forming up behind me. The routine was for the next hockey game—a high-energy sequence to fire up the crowd. I took my place at the front, my heart pounding, and called out the steps.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” My voice rang out, steady despite the chaos in my head.

I launched into the routine—sharp claps, quick spins, a high kick that made my ankle twinge but held. The squad followed, their movements syncing with mine, pom-poms flashing. I nailed every step, every turn, my body moving on instinct, muscle memory kicking in. The gym’s lights buzzed, the mat soft under my sneakers, and for a moment, I was just the captain, not the girl in the rumors.

“Good, Ariana!” Coach called, her voice firm but approving. “Now teach it.”

I walked the squad through the steps, my voice clear, my hands guiding their positions. Some girls struggled—hesitant spins, sloppy claps—but I corrected them, patient, focused, ignoring Bella’s eye-rolls. My mind drifted, though, Logan’s face flashing, in my face. Why can’t I get over him? Was it love, or just trauma? My heart fluttered, betraying me, and I shoved the thought away, focusing on the routine.

The squad finally got it, their steps sharp, their chants loud. Coach clapped, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, let’s add the stunt. Ariana, you’re the flyer. Bella, Sarah, you’re bases. Lift her for the liberty hold.”

My stomach dropped. Bella as a base? Her smirk returned, cold and calculating, as she took her position beneath me. Sarah, my roommate, gave me a reassuring nod, but my pulse raced, my wrist bandage itching. I climbed onto their hands, my sneakers steady, and they hoisted me up, my arms outstretched, my body balanced in the liberty pose—one leg bent, the other extended. The gym spun below, the squad cheering, but Bella’s grip felt wrong, her fingers loose, her eyes glinting.

“Hold steady!” Coach called, pacing the mat.

I wobbled, my core tightening, and then—Bella’s hands slipped, deliberately, her smirk widening as Sarah gasped. My balance broke, my body twisting, and I fell, my arms flailing. The mat rushed up, and I landed hard, my wrist buckling under me. Pain shot through, sharp and searing, and I cried out, rolling onto my side, clutching my wrist.

Laughter erupted, Bella’s voice loudest, her giggle cutting like glass. “Oops,” she said, her tone mocking, as the other girls snickered, their eyes gleaming.

I curled up, my vision blurring, tears spilling despite my fight to hold them back. My wrist throbbed, a sprain for sure, the pain mingling with humiliation. Why me? What had I done to deserve this? The rumors, the boogeyman, Bella’s cruelty—it was too much. I wanted to disappear, to be the normal freshman I’d been before Logan, before yesterday.

“Ariana!” Coach’s voice broke through, her boots thudding as she knelt beside me. “Are you okay?”

Her hands were gentle, lifting me to sit, her eyes soft with concern. Sarah and a few others crowded around, their faces worried, but Bella stood back, her arms crossed, her smirk unshaken.

“My wrist,” I choked out, my voice thick, tears streaming down my cheeks. “It hurts.”

The pain was sharp, but the embarrassment burned deeper, Bella’s laughter echoing in my skull. I’d felt so alive with Logan, so seen, but now I was a target, my mistake a weapon against me.

“Get her to the medical booth,” Coach ordered, her voice firm, shooting Bella a glare. “And Bella, we’ll talk later.”

Sarah helped me stand, her arm around me, and I stumbled to the booth at the gym’s edge, my wrist cradled, my tears falling freely now. I sat on the bench, the antiseptic smell sharp, the pain pulsing with every heartbeat. Sarah stayed, her hand on my shoulder, but I barely felt it, my mind spinning. Logan’s protectiveness, Bella’s sabotage, the boogeyman’s claws—it was all closing in, and I didn’t know how to escape.