Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I hope you fall in love one day.”
“First of all, how dare you? Second of all, I’ll leave all that Hallmarky shit to you.”
“It can be HBO level, not Hallmarky.” She winks and we both snort in laughter before we get out.
I take a sip of my Red Bull. So I know it’s not healthy and all that jazz, but I need the extra energy before every performance. If our own queen bee or the coach found out, they’d probably tell Mom and that would lead to drama that I don’t need in my fragile relationship with her.
I throw the can in the trash before we go through the stadium’s rear exit and toward the squad’s locker room.
It’s a buzz of motions and people backstage. Some of the most dramatic cheerleaders—Brianna included, of course—are singing or murmuring some voodoo shit.
Reina is stretching her long leg over Prescott’s shoulder as he flexes his arm. He’s good-looking with a tall, muscular body. His olive skin and light blue eyes coupled with his black hair and thick brows give him a Middle-Eastern look that made Luce fall head over heels. I think her crush started during high school, but she hid it so well that I only found out about it recently, when I caught her writing in her journal about dreaming to make babies with him.
When I confronted her about it and told her to confess to him, the chicken shit actually gathered her courage and almost did it. But then, during lunch one day, Peter was egging Prescott on about if he was gay, but he said he just wasn’t interested in dating.
Needless to say, my best friend went back to her small bubble and refused to even broach the subject again.
Luce is almost as good at hiding as I am. Almost.
The only difference is that I don’t get caught. And I sure as hell don’t keep a journal.
Unless my letters to Akira can be considered one?
Lucy lowers her head at the scene between Reina and Prescott and goes to stretch.
“He doesn’t like her,” I whisper as I stand beside her.
“I know that.”
“I mean, imagine our own queen bee actually interested in anyone but herself? Wouldn’t that be a miracle?”
“Nao,” she hisses so I’ll stop. “Reina has a fiancé.”
She really is starstruck by our captain.
A presence creeps up on me and when I look up, I meet Brianna’s malicious stare. “If it isn’t the immigrant. Aren’t you late?”
I roll my eyes. “I was born here.”
“Oh, so your mommy is the immigrant. It’s hard to keep track with all of you people coming here.”
I twist my lips, but I keep them closed, because anything I say right now will just be taken the wrong way.
So I try to move past her.
Bree extends her arm. “I’m not done talking.”
“Well, I am. If you have anything else to say, you can take it and shove it up your racist, xenophobic ass.”
“Xeno what?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was that word too difficult for you? Google it or ask your daddy to give more money to the dean so he’ll explain it to you after I file a racial discrimination report.”
And with that, I turn to leave.
“I’m not stupid!” Brianna’s shrill voice echoes from behind me.
“Yeah, sure. I believe you,” I mock without facing her. “Good luck convincing everyone else.”
“Slut! After tonight, you won’t be running your mouth anymore.”
I stop and turn around. At the same time, Reina and Prescott, who were watching the show with everyone else, close in on Bree.
The co-captain stares at her own Lucifer—Reina—and her lips tremble with clear frustration. “She called me stupid.”
Reina shakes her head and just like that, the subject is dropped as if it never happened.
I stare at them, trying to decipher what just transpired, but Reina claps her hands, calling everyone’s attention. “Time to go out there and show them what the Devils are all about. No one is allowed to breathe until the end of the game. No mistakes, no slouching, and no slacking.”
She puts her hand in the middle and everyone else follows suit, Luce and I included.
Reina shouts, “Black!”
“Devils!” we all shout in return before we break the circle.
Then we’re out there cheering in front of over thirty thousand spectators who came to watch the classic rivals go at each other.
Friday night lights are blinding and the entire fan area is black and white as balloons of the same colors fly toward the sky.
Loud pop music blares in the air as the male cheerleaders breakdance. Soon after, we line up midfield. The fans go crazy with our opening routine, all precise and perfect like Reina wants. And then she ends it at the top of the pyramid, a huge smile on her lips, as fireworks explode behind us like we’re at some concert.
Me? I’d rather be listening to my rock music in peace, thank you very much. But hey, on the bright side, Reina will lay off our asses after this performance.