Dancing with the Varsity Bad Boy

Chapter 6

Jordan's POV

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I trugde downstairs, bleery eyed and beyond tired, and I've never been more grateful for the Bi-week than I am today because coach would have had my ass on a silver platter if I'd had to get to practice at 4am.

I still have classes and I don't know how I'll stay awake through them. I'm in deperate need of coffee, it'll probably take three cups just to get me ready for my Ethics class this morning.

"Oft, you look rough," Eric chuckles, handing me the fresh cup of coffee he just finished making himself.

"You have no idea, thanks for this," I mutter and take a sip of the elixa of life. The bitter dark coffee doing wonders waking me up, but like I thought, one cup isn't gonna cut through the sleep deprived fog this morning.

"How is our house guest?" Mikey asks strolling into the kitchen and grins at the sight of me.

"She's sleeping," I grumble, and sigh, placing the hot cup on the kitchen island to run a hand over my face.

"She'd woke me at lest twice," I mutter, her muffled screams of agony replaying in my mind. She'd been sobbing into her pillow, as the pain flared up, in the end I'd climed into bed with her, and held her, letting her cry into my chest, letting her cling to me like a limpet until she'd exhausted herself enough to sleep.

I kept replaying all our interactions over the past three to four years. Trying to figure out if I'd ever seen her in pain, but nothing comes to mind. Is she just that good at hiding pain?

"By the looks of you I'd say you were up more than twice," Eric states and makes himself another cup of coffee, Mikey gets the bacon, bread and butter out to make everyone bacon sandwiches.

"Yeah, I have no idea how she's going to get to her classes, I know I wouldn't be able to get out bed if I was in that much pain," I frown in thought, wondering what her housemates normally do when she's like this. If we had their numbers, then they could give us some advice.

"Do you still have Gypsy's number?" I ask Eric, and notice the way his shoulders stiffen.

"Yeah, why?" The words carry a slight protective yet also defensive edge to them.

"Because it's clear she's had episodes before, and I need to know how they get her to her classes. That way we can work around her, as a team," I shrug Eric's shoulders relax before he hands me his phone.

He's never told me the full story of what happened between him and Gypsy. It's obvious he cares deeply for her, but he continues to push her away time and time again, creating a fortress around his heart. He also never talks about "Bradley" but screams the name in his sleep. I'm not one to press for answers, but its clear he's hiding something traumatic, something that happened to the both of them.

"Thanks," I mutter and open up his contacts after punching in his password. It takes four rings for the call to connect and then the cheerful voice of a young woman comes through.

"Eric? Hey why you calling so early in the day?" Gypsy asks, her voice nearly drowned out from the loud voices of a large crowd.

"Hey Gypsy, it's Jordan, I need to ask you something,"

"One moment, let me get somewhere quieter," Gypsy shouts over the background noise and I wait until it grows to a background buzz of mingled voices.

"Jordan, what's up?" Gypsy asks.

"Violet is staying at the football house, she's run out of one of her meds, and had a pain flare up last night. Her dad wanted her here until he can get the meds to her. How do you get her to her classes when she can't drive?" Gypsy groans on the otherside of the phone, and mutters something about stubborn dancers before she answers me.

"I can send you a copy of her schedule, then you and the team will have to figure out who's closest to the classes she takes. It's then all about who takes her to which class and who picks her up to take her to the next class. We have a router at home that we use, considering we're all studying arts and business on top of our main classes." She says, then hums to herself as though she's thinking about something.

"If you get Eric to head over, our router should be on the fridge. You can use that to see which member of the team is closest to which class. But take a photocopy of it so we can keep the original, yeah?" I chuckle, unable to stop myself from how thoughtful she is.

"Thanks Gypsy, when are you due back?" I grab a pen and use the back of an envelope to write down her return date.

"If everything goes well? I won't be back until late Sunday night, or early Monday morning I'm afraid. I got to the finals and I can't waste this opportunity." She says, concern clear in her voice.

"We'll look after Violet until your back then, I wish you well with whatever it is your doing," She laughs, but there's no humour in it.

"Thanks, tell Violet I'll bring home the win for us," Before I can say goodbye she hangs up and I stare at the phone before passing it back to Eric.

"How is Gypsy?" Violet's voice, hoarse from a night of tears and screams makes me and the rest of the guys jump out of our skins.

"What are you doing downstairs, I would have come up and help you," Mikey says, rushing over to her. Violet waves him off, her hazel gaze, more a greeny, blue then hazel this morning, remain fixed on me.

"She seemed ok, said to tell you she'll bring home the win," I tell her and pull out a stoll for her to sit on. She's walking better, no longer shuffling, although she's still unsteady and slow on her feet.

"I don't doubt she will, she's so talented the judges would be crazy to give her anything other than first place," Violet says, and stretches a lop-sided smile forming on her lips when she catches sight of the pinnapple juice Chris is pouring into a glass.

"Can I have some?" I splutter on my coffee, noticing the slight smirk on her lips.

"Sure," Eric chuckles and get out a glass for her, Chris fighting back a grin as he pours her some.

"Sorry about last night, how many times did I wake you up?" She turns her attention to me and for a moment the wind is knocked out of me. The way the sunlight captures the different hues of red in her hair creates a halo around her face, and even though she has dark bags under her eyes, there's a youthful glow to her skin, and her smile is warm.

"Only twice, I think," I clear my throat and shrug, before making myself another cup of coffee. Violet yawns, her hand covering her mouth as Chris places her glass of juice in front of her. She thanks him before taking a sip, her eyes bright and alert even after hardly sleeping last night.

She's behaving as though it's completely normal to be brought to tears by pain, as though this is just the way she rolls with the punches life throws at her. The strength of character it must take, to never pity herself, to keep tackling each day as it comes, is breathtaking. She'll make one lucky bastard a happy man one day.

"What's the time? If we have time I'll buy you breakfast, or maybe lunch to make up for intruding on you last night," Violet glances between us, and then sighs when she notices no one is going to answer her.

"What's wrong?"

"We need to figure out who's taking you to class, there's no way your driving yourself after last night," Eric says, and Violet glares at him, her annoyance turning her hazel eyes to a greenish brown.

"And what would you know, Eric?" She snaps, before turning back to me.

"I drove home last night before coming over here, it's not the first time I've driven while in pain, nor will be the last. Besides I doubt any of you have classes in the arts building or near the dance studios." She states, giving a half shrug while shifting on the stoll, a grimace flitting across her face before smoothing out into a half smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"You're a dance major?" Chris asks, blinking with surprise.

"Yes, why does that surprise you?" She say and takes another sip of her juice.

"Well, because you.... you have errr," Mikey stutters, unable to address the elephant in the room.

"Ohh, you mean because I have rhumatiod arthritis I must be unable to have a career in dance?" That one question is laced with thinely hidden contempt.

"If you insist on taking me in, Mathews can drive me to our Ethics class this morning. I'll then walk to my other classes and get a lift back," With that she gets back up and heads out the kitchen with her back straight. Just before she leaves the kitchen though she turns back to face me, and that's even I notice the flecks of gold in her iris, they glint like flames as her anger burns into me.

"Maybe next time, you get to know a girl before passing judgement on them. I know that's too much to ask a house full of players, but us women are more then just tools for you to use and discard," With that she turns and leaves the room in stunned silence.

"Ahh sh'it the bacon!" Mikey groans, the scent of burnt bacon hitting me in the face.