POM-POM AND PAIN
1283 Words
✿MOANA✿
The girls’ locker room smelled like hairspray, vanilla body mist, and high energy. Friday afternoon before the big basketball game, and the cheer squad was in full preparation mode. I sat on the bench in front of my locker, carefully applying mascara while Octavia twisted her hair into a high ponytail beside me.
“So,” Lalissa said, dropping onto the bench and pulling out her makeup bag. “How’s living with the dickhead?”
I didn’t look up from my compact mirror. “Unbearable.”
“Unbearable how?” Octavia secured my ponytail with a hair tie and turned to face me fully. “Give us details.”
I sighed and set down my mascara. There was no point in hiding anything from these two. They were my best friends, the only people I trusted completely. “It’s constant tension. Every morning at breakfast, every time we pass in the hallway, every second we’re in the same room. And our parents are completely oblivious.”
“Of course they are,” Lalissa muttered. “They’re too busy playing happy blended family.”
“Exactly.” I pulled out my lip gloss. “Last night we had this family dinner where my mom kept going on about how wonderful it is that Dylan and I are getting along so well.”
Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Getting along?”
“We barely speak to each other. We just sit there, pretending everything’s normal while they plan their perfect little wedding.” My voice was tight. “It’s exhausting.”
“But something happened,” Lalissa said, leaning forward. “I can tell. What did he do?”
I hesitated for only a second before the words came spilling out. “A few nights ago, I went downstairs to get food. I thought everyone was out, but Dylan was in the kitchen. Shirtless. And he just stood there watching me while I tried to pretend he didn’t exist.”
“And?” Octavia prompted.
“And then he told me to mind how I dress around the house.” My jaw clenched at the memory. “Said he’s a fucker and he wouldn’t mind bending me over the kitchen counter.”
“He said what?” Lalissa’s voice rose sharply.
“Then he just walked away like it was nothing.”
Octavia and Lalissa exchanged a long look.
“Moana,” Octavia said carefully. “You have feelings for him.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Lalissa cut in. “And that’s the problem. Dylan Dickson is a player. He doesn’t do relationships. He f***s girls and moves on. You know this.”
“I know,” I said quietly.
“So why are you letting him get to you?” Octavia’s tone was gentle but firm. “You’re Moana Queens. You don’t let guys mess with your head.”
“I’m not letting him mess with my head.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry every time we mention his name?” Lalissa reached over and squeezed my hand. “We’re worried about you.”
I pulled my hand away and stood, smoothing down my cheer uniform. “I’m fine. I can handle Dylan.”
“Can you?” Octavia stood too, crossing her arms. “Because from where we’re standing, it looks like he’s getting under your skin.”
“He’s not.”
“He is,” Lalissa said. “And we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I grabbed my pom-poms from my locker and turned to face them. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m not some fragile girl who’s going to fall apart over a guy. Dylan can do whatever he wants. It doesn’t affect me.”
They didn’t look convinced, but they let it drop.
“Come on,” I said, forcing brightness into my voice. “We have a routine to kill.”
We headed out of the locker room together, our sneakers squeaking against the polished gym floor. The basketball team was already on the court warming up, and the bleachers were starting to fill with students ready for the game.
My eyes found Dylan immediately.
He was standing near the sideline, but he wasn’t warming up with his team. Instead, he was talking to one of the other cheerleaders, Bethany.
He leaned in close, saying something that made her laugh. She touched his arm, her fingers lingering on his bicep. He smiled that cocky, devastating smile that made girls weak.
My stomach tightened.
“Don’t look,” Octavia whispered, but it was too late.
His hand slid to Bethany’s waist, pulling her closer.
And then he kissed her.
Not a quick peck. Not a friendly brush of lips.
A real kiss. Deep, slow, deliberate.
Bethany melted into him, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, and his grip on her waist tightened.
I felt like I’d been slapped.
He pulled back, said something that made her giggle, and then finally… his eyes shifted across the gym.
They landed on me.
For one brief, electric second, our gazes locked.
Then he looked away like I wasn’t even there. Like I was invisible. Like I meant nothing.
He turned back to Bethany, whispered something in her ear, and jogged onto the court to join his team.
“Moana,” Lalissa’s voice was soft. “Forget him. Let’s focus on our routine.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but my hands were shaking as I gripped my pom-poms.
“f**k him,” Octavia muttered. “He’s playing games.”
“I know.” I forced myself to look away, to focus on my squad gathering at the sidelines. “Let’s just do this.”
The routine went perfectly. I hit every move, every jump, every cheer with precision. But my mind was somewhere else. Even as I smiled and danced and pumped up the crowd, part of me was painfully aware of him on the court.
The game was intense. He played like he had something to prove, aggressive and dominant, driving his team forward. He was everywhere, stealing the ball, sinking three-pointers, making impossible shots that had the crowd roaring.
With ten seconds left and the score tied, he got the ball. He drove down the court, dodged two defenders, and launched a shot from halfway down the court.
It went in.
The buzzer sounded. His team won.
The gym erupted in chaos. His teammates swarmed him, slapping his back and shouting. The crowd was on its feet, chanting his name.
And he was riding the high of victory, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
My breath caught.
He grabbed a water bottle, tipped his head back, and poured it over himself. Water cascaded down his face, his neck, his chest. His blonde hair stuck to his forehead, droplets sliding down the sharp lines of his jaw.
He looked like a sin incarnate.
Girls immediately swarmed him. They appeared out of nowhere, offering him towels, more water, and congratulations. Hands reached out to touch his arms, his shoulders, his chest. He soaked it all in, grinning and laughing, the center of attention.
I stood frozen on the sidelines, watching.
Our eyes met again across the gym.
This time, he held my gaze for a long, loaded moment.
Then he deliberately turned away, slinging his arm around Bethany’s shoulders and pulling her close.
I looked away before he could see my reaction.
“Party at the house,” Octavia said, appearing at my side. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.”
- Writer
