The Lax Captain’s Forbidden Cheerleader

AVERY “Cole, I swear to God, if you touch my food one more time, I’m going to make your life a living hell.” He looked me straight in the eyes, took another bite of my sandwich, and smiled. Actually smiled. Like I was the one being unreasonable. “Good morning to you too, princess.” I stared at him across the table. Three years of friendship. Three years of putting up with his nonsense. Three years of watching perfectly intelligent girls forget how to form sentences whenever this boy walked into a room. And somehow, I was still expected to share my breakfast with him. “Did your mother not feed you this morning?” “She did.” “Then why are you eating mine?” “Yours tastes better.” “It's the same sandwich!” “Made by different hands, Avery. There's a difference.” I snatched the sandwich from him before he could take another bite. “Touch my food again and lose a hand.” Cole leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “You'd miss my hands.” I nearly choked on my own outrage. Across from us, my twin brother didn't even bother looking up from his phone. “She's right,” Asher said. I pointed at him. “Thank you.” “Your threats are getting repetitive. You should actually do something about him.” I lowered my hand. “Wait. Are you encouraging violence against your best friend?” Asher finally raised his eyes. “I'm encouraging you to stop complaining and start acting.” Cole slapped the table, laughing. I hated them. Well, not really. But if someone offered me a million dollars to trade both boys for two peaceful mornings, I would at least ask whether the money was transferable. “Both of you are disgusting,” I announced, reaching for my coffee. “Love you too,” Cole said. Asher returned to his phone. That was our mornings in a nutshell. No greetings. No polite conversations. No pretending we were three normal people who knew how to behave in public. Just me, my twin, and the boy who had somehow become a permanent fixture in both our lives. And judging by the way Cole was currently eyeing my sandwich again, my suffering wasn't ending anytime soon. “Don't,” I warned. He lifted both hands. “I'm innocent.” “You're a criminal.” “A handsome criminal.” “An unemployed criminal would be more useful.” “Unemployed?” His eyebrows shot up. “Avery, I'm the lacrosse captain.” “And yet you can't afford your own breakfast.” Asher snorted. Cole turned towards him. “You know, for a man who barely speaks, you have a disturbing talent for betraying me.” “I'm conserving my words for important things.” “Like?” “Making sure Avery doesn't poison you.” I laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee. Cole looked between us, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I sacrifice my time, my energy, my entire morning to keep this friendship alive, and this is how you repay me.” “You arrived seven minutes ago,” Asher said. “Seven beautiful minutes.” “You stole my sandwich,” I reminded him. “And I'd do it again.” I threw a napkin at his face. He caught it. Of course he did. I rolled my eyes and checked the time on my phone. Eight thirty-seven. Practice started at nine, and I still had to collect the updated performance schedule from the cheerleading office. Coach had already sent two messages asking whether I'd reviewed the revised formations, and three girls had messaged me separately about positions they wanted changed. Being cheerleading captain sounded glamorous until you realised it meant managing twenty different personalities before breakfast. I loved my team. I loved performing. I loved the feeling of stepping onto the field, hearing the crowd rise, and knowing every movement had to be sharp enough to make people look twice. What I didn't love was being asked the same question twelve different ways because someone didn't like where she'd been placed in a formation. “Are you coming to the field after practice?” Asher asked. I looked up. “Why?” “Coach wants the cheer squad there for the season briefing.” “You could have led with that instead of spending ten minutes watching me fight for my breakfast.” “I enjoyed watching you fight for your breakfast.” Cole nodded. “It was the highlight of my morning.” I pointed my coffee at both of them. “I hope you lose your first match.” Asher stood, grabbed his bag, and kissed the top of my head as he passed. “Love you, too, menace.” I watched him walk away. That was Asher. He could spend an entire morning pretending I irritated him, then remember to bring me my favourite drink without asking. He could ignore half the campus and still notice immediately when I wasn't okay. He was my twin, my first friend, and the one person who could read my mood before I had decided what it was. Cole was different. Cole had entered our lives in high school and somehow never left. He had become part of our routines so naturally that I couldn't remember when we stopped asking whether he was coming over and started assuming he would. He knew which songs I played when I was angry. He knew I hated being interrupted when I was concentrating. He knew I pretended not to care when something hurt my feelings. And, unfortunately, he knew exactly how to get under my skin. “Earth to Avery.” I blinked. Cole was watching me. “What?” “You've been staring at your brother's retreating back like he's leaving for war.” “Maybe I was enjoying the peace.” “Without me?” “Especially without you.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “That's cruel.” “You'll survive.” He stood and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. “Come on, princess. I'll walk you to the gym.” “I know where the gym is.” “I'm aware. You've only been going there for years.” “Then why are you walking me?” He shrugged, holding the door open. “Maybe I'm a gentleman.” I passed him without looking up. “Maybe you're bored.” “Also possible.” I smiled despite myself. And that was the thing about Cole Madden. He could annoy me until I wanted to throw something at his head, then say one stupid thing that made me laugh, and suddenly I couldn't remember why I'd been angry in the first place. It was a dangerous talent. Fortunately for me, I had absolutely no interest in him. None. Zero. Cole was Cole. My best friend. My brother's best friend. The boy who had once fallen asleep on our living-room floor because he'd insisted he wasn't tired, then blamed me when I took a picture. There was nothing romantic about that. Nothing at all. The moment we stepped outside, I understood why Cole had insisted on walking me. Three girls standing near the student centre entrance noticed him almost immediately. One whispered. Another elbowed her friend. The third didn't even pretend she wasn't staring. I watched the entire thing happen with the exhausted fascination of someone observing a predictable natural disaster. Cole, naturally, noticed them too. He always did. “Morning, ladies,” he called. Three smiles appeared at once. I nearly walked into a pillar. “You cannot be serious,” I muttered. Cole glanced down at me. “What?” “You've been outside for approximately four seconds.” “Five.” “And you've already started.” “Started what?” “Whatever this is.” He looked back at the girls, who were still watching him. “This is called being friendly, Avery. You should try it sometime.” “I am friendly.” “To people who can do something for you.” “That is a lie.” “You once told a guy his haircut looked like a failed science experiment.” “Because it did.” Cole burst out laughing. One of the girls approached us. “Hey, Cole.” He turned with that easy smile of his. “Hey.” “Are you going to the party on Friday?” “Depends. Are you asking me?” She laughed, touching her hair. I kept walking. I wasn't about to stand there and watch Cole flirt his way through another perfectly ordinary conversation. He could do that on his own time. Besides, I had things to do. Important things. Like make sure my squad didn't accidentally turn Friday's performance into a public safety incident. “Avery!” I didn't turn around. Cole caught up with me seconds later. “Wow. Leaving me behind?” “You looked occupied.” “Jealous?” I stopped walking. Slowly, I turned to face him. “Of what, exactly?” He grinned. “Me.” I stared at him for a full three seconds. Then I laughed. Not a polite laugh. Not the little breathy sound girls made when Cole said something remotely amusing. An actual laugh. He looked offended. “You could at least pretend to consider the possibility.” “Cole, if you were the last man on earth, I'd start looking into alternative species.” His mouth fell open. I patted his shoulder. “Don't worry. You'll always be special to me.” Then I walked away before he could retaliate. His laughter followed me down the path. I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I knew he was smiling. I knew he'd catch up with me before I reached the athletics building. And I knew that tomorrow morning, he'd probably steal my breakfast again. That was our world. Familiar. Loud. Ridiculous. Ours. At least, that's what I believed. By the time I reached the cheerleading gym, my phone had accumulated eleven messages, two missed calls, and one voice note from a girl who apparently believed a three-minute explanation was necessary to ask whether she could switch positions. I dropped my bag onto the bench and opened the group chat. CHEER SQUAD — WESTBROOK Maya: Avery, please tell me you've seen the revised formations. Jules: Why am I at the back? Nina: Because you missed two practices. Jules: Nobody asked you. Maya: Girls. Please. It's 8:49. I rubbed my forehead. “Jesus give me strength.” “You're going to need more than that.” I looked up. Maya Bennett, my second-in-command and the closest thing I had to a reasonable person on this squad, stood in the doorway with a clipboard. “Tell me you're here to make my life easier.” “I'm here to tell you Coach wants the final lineup by noon.” I closed my eyes. “Of course she does.” “And the lacrosse team has requested a joint run-through before Friday.” That got my attention. “Requested?” “Apparently, Captain Madden thinks we need to coordinate the entrance.” I stared at her. Then I laughed without humour. “Of course Captain Madden does.” Maya smiled. “You two are going to kill each other one day.” “Not before Friday. I have a schedule to finish.” I took the clipboard from her and scanned the list. Twenty names. Twenty positions. Twenty opportunities for somebody to complain. I was halfway through marking a correction when Maya spoke again. “By the way, I saw Cole outside.” “Congratulations.” “He was talking to three girls.” “Also congratulations.” “Do you ever get tired of him?” I looked up. The question was so ridiculous that I almost laughed again. “Tired of Cole? Every day.” “But?” I narrowed my eyes. “But what?” Maya held up her hands. “Nothing.” “Good.” She watched me for another moment, then shook her head and walked towards the changing rooms. I looked back at the schedule. Cole and I had known each other long enough that people sometimes assumed there had to be something more between us. There wasn't. People saw a boy and a girl who were close and immediately started writing a love story neither of them had agreed to star in. Cole was allowed to be my best friend without becoming my boyfriend. I was allowed to love him without being in love with him. And if anyone had a problem with that, they could take it up with the nearest wall. I had a season to prepare for. He had a team to lead. Asher had a match to win. We had plans, routines, and a hundred ordinary days ahead of us. I couldn't imagine anything powerful enough to change that. I picked up my pen and returned to the lineup. Friday was going to be perfect. It had to be. Because at Westbrook, people expected a lot from the three of us. And we had never been very good at disappointing each other.