Learning Curve (Dickson University #1) Read Online Max Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, College, Contemporary, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Dickson University Series by Max Monroe
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Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
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“You got this, Scottie!” I add at the top of my lungs. I don’t know if she can hear me from her spot on the stage, but I do see the slightest hint of a grin kiss her pretty mouth, so I choose to believe she can.

The opening notes of their competition song pound heavily through the speakers, and their heads snap up in unison.

It’s go time!

Scottie’s squad jumps into action, a synchronized unit of hips shaking and arm gestures. Each movement is perfectly timed to the beat of the song. The girls switch formation, and a path opens for three cheerleaders—Scottie included—to tumble toward the back of the mat.

She nails her tricks perfectly, and so do her other two teammates, and I unleash a yell I swear the captain of a ship off the coast can probably hear.

The squad moves into another formation that has the entire team doing a perfectly timed backflip and some kind of jump-leg thing where the feet of every single girl on the squad land at the same time. They hit every move with precision, and the hype running between Ace, Blake, Julia, and me makes us bob back and forth and bump into each other so much, we look like we’re in a rugby scrum.

Dickson cheerleaders switch up their positions, and Scottie and two other cheerleaders are tossed into the air by their teammates who serve as their bases below. She stands on one foot, keeps her body perfectly straight, and holds one leg high in the air. The other two flyers mimic the same movements, and all three hit their marks without any issues. They all do two twists down into their bases’ arms, but pop back up onto the top of their woven hands before their feet can touch the ground. Scottie and two other cheerleaders fly through the air in a full twisting flip, doing what she taught me last week is a basket toss.

I watch as Scottie completes her spinning backflip perfectly, my eyes so focused on her that I don’t notice her bases are in shambles until Ace yells, “Shit!” when Tonya goes down to the ground, her ankle in her hands.

I feel like I’m watching in slow motion as Scottie drops like a rock toward a group of people who are in no way prepared to catch her from no less than twenty feet in the air. She hits with a sickening thud, her head and neck impacting the mat at a terrifying angle.

The entire crowd gasps, and I jump down between Ace and Julia, Ace holding me by my shirt to keep me from trampling the people in front of us. “Scottie!” My throat shakes and my voice is raw as the music stops, and silence descends around us. Scottie’s teammates huddle around her and wave frantically for the medical staff.

“Oh my God!” Julia cries.

“Fuck, is she okay?” Ace questions, audible terror in his normally jovial voice.

Blake shoves his hands into his hair in distress, and I push forward again, not caring if I fucking have to step directly on the people in front of us at this point.

I haven’t seen her move at all.

Medical staff slides Scottie’s body onto a backboarded stretcher as I arrive at the front of the stage, but there are too many people in the way to make out anything else.

“Scottie!” I yell, jumping up onto the platform and shoving through cheerleaders carefully but quickly.

“Sir, you need to stay back,” a security guard says as he tries to stop my progress when I finally get close, but he’s no match for the adrenaline that’s now rushing through my body. I move him out of the way and shove forward again, not stopping until I bump into a crying Kayla, who’s holding Scottie’s hand.

Guys in red jackets secure her waist, legs, and chest to the backboard, and a neck collar is in place right below her scared face. I step around Kayla until Scottie can see me.

When her eyes lock with mine, I’m immediately overwhelmed by the pure terror on her face. I seek out her hand desperately, taking her fingers in mine, and squeeze, wanting her to know I’m there.

“I’m here, Scottie. I’m here.”

“Finn,” she whispers. “I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel anything.” A sob bubbles up from her throat, and I squeeze her hand even harder with my fingers, willing her to take every ounce of my strength if she needs.

“It’s okay.” A tear trails down her cheek, and I reach out to swipe it off with my thumb. “I’m here, Scottie.”

“Sir, you need to get off the stage,” someone says to me, a hand gripping my shoulder and pulling me out of the way. “We need to get her into the ambulance.”

“Finn!” Scottie yells, panic overwhelming her voice.


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