Game Over

3

Jessie tossed a perfume bottle towards me carelessly, and I caught it with a racing heart, as the girls gasped in shock at her boldness.

“You throw Chanel around like that without a care?” Bunny shrieked in disbelief, but Jessie just ignored us as she adjusted her bra strap.

I sighed with relief. The perfume was fine. We all breathed easier. I sprayed a little of my favorite scent—an elegant blend of nature and sugar, giving it a sweet, fresh fragrance.

I lifted my chin with more confidence, looking at myself in the mirror as I tied my blonde hair high with a red satin ribbon. I was piecing together the rest of my plan as we headed to the field.

“His parents are coming back next week. That’s in our favor.”

I frowned as my eyes met his. Lucas sent a wink in my direction, warming up shirtless. Smug bastard, with his chiseled body.

“How’s that in our favor?” Bunny asked, confused.

I answered her with frustration, still glaring at Lucas, who was smirking at me like he was trying to put on some sort of seductive show. “I’m going to wipe that grin off his face, and his parents will be the ones to tear it away. That’s my promise.”

...

"Five, six, seven, eight," Coach Stella shouted while lounging on a bench, munching on snacks as we melted under the scorching sun.

We bent over slowly, then stood upright, holding our red pom-poms with white ribbons, arching our backs slightly.

I swear, I’m going to pass out. Coach Stella clapped her hands, clearly unsatisfied with our performance. What a joke—I’m going to reach my ideal weight and quit this energy-sucking team.

Coach Stella stood up, dusting off the snack crumbs from her fingers. She shook her head angrily and barked, "Bunny, take over training these failures while I handle some business."

She stormed off into the building, still shaking her head in despair, leaving us to roast in the sun.

I suppressed my frustration, stomping my foot on the grassy field in anger. Why can’t we train inside the gym? Why always under this burning sun?

Bunny sighed with boredom, signaling us to start.

Screw it—they can keep going without me. I’m done with this nonsense. Cheerleading is a total waste of time. "I’m not finishing today, and that lunatic isn’t coming back either," I told Bunny bitterly, glaring at the door Stella had gone through.

Our eyes wandered to the basketball coach, who was busy yelling at the players. The coaches seem to do nothing but fight. "A bunch of losers, how do you expect to win if you’re not giving it your all? Useless."

He’s right, they are useless. Bunny hadn’t started the practice, and truth be told, none of us had. We stood there listening to the coach’s rant, which was basically just him insulting the boys.

He threw the ball at one of the players, making him stumble back, and the girls erupted in laughter. The coach pointed at each player, screaming out their weaknesses.

I sat on one of the benches, watching the coach humiliate them with enjoyment. Eventually, just like Coach Stella, he called for a break to take care of "some business."

What business? I’ve been asking myself that ever since I joined this cheer squad.

“You look completely drained,” Lucas said with fake concern as he grabbed his bag from the bench a few steps away from me.

I huffed in irritation, rolling my eyes. Drained? Funny. I’m just not in the mood to look relaxed.

I shot him a sharp glance as he started walking toward me. What does he want? I turned my attention back to the girls, resting my face on my palm, pretending not to care.

“Catch,” he said suddenly, making me look up in confusion just as something flew toward me. I raised my hand quickly, catching it before it smacked into my face.

I furrowed my brows at the juice box in my hand. "You like strawberry juice, right?" he asked, slipping on his shirt and trying to tame his messy hair.

Unfortunately, I do like this juice, and it’s ice-cold, perfect for this hot weather. I placed the juice on the bench, pushing it back toward him. "Thanks," I said sweetly.

Then I added with a knowing smile, "But you need it more than I do." He rolled his eyes in boredom, while the basketball players began gathering in the stands, some collapsing in exhaustion.

"I swear, I’m going to pass out one day. Does that man enjoy torturing us?" Jasper yelled angrily, throwing his shirt on the ground, and the rest of the boys followed suit, cursing the coach with the worst insults.

"Oh, why aren’t you practicing with the rest of the hotties?" Jasper asked, giving me a sideways glance, his tone sleazy. Ignoring Jasper was the best option—his filthy mouth seemed designed solely to twist words.

"Don’t get mad. I’m already pissed, and I can’t handle seeing you angry too," he added. I wanted to puke. I hated them all.

I stood up, brushing off my clothes with my chin slightly raised. "No worries, Jasper. You know it’s only five days, maybe three, and you’ll be back to your old self."

His mouth fell open, and I smirked with disdain, grabbing the juice box and tossing it toward Lucas without caring whether he would catch it or if it would hit his face.

I preferred the latter, but he caught it, his eyes already on me. Bastard.

"Soleil, come on, join us," Bunny called with a cheerful smile. I shook my head, grabbed my pom-poms, and walked away from the girls.

Bunny shouted after me, "Coach Stella’s coming back. Sol, get back here!" Stella, such a pain in the ass. I shot Bunny a disgusted look, rejecting her plea.

My classes were done for the day, so that meant practice was over too. One of the perks of joining the team was skipping a few classes.

Home sweet home. My cool room waiting for me in this heat—I’m on my way.

I didn’t bother changing, walking home in my cheerleading uniform. The good thing was my house wasn’t far from school, just a couple of streets, and I’d be there.

I lazily climbed the four steps to my front door, usually greeted by the quiet calm of an empty house. But today, what’s all this noise?

I pushed the door open, and just before stepping into the living room, I saw something that froze me in disbelief. "Mom! Is that..." My eyes landed on a familiar pair of shoes—those could only belong to one person.

"Noah!" I screamed in shock, running toward him, throwing myself into a long hug. He nearly lost his balance but caught himself, steadying us both, while my dad chuckled in the background.

I wanted to cry, but something held me back, like a lump of joy stuck in my throat. So much happiness.

“Welcome back, finally, Noah.” He had been gone for an entire year, this jerk. A whole year without seeing his face. How did his girlfriend put up with it?