Page 128 of Learning Curve

I set my phone back on my nightstand, completely ignoring the fact that all the talk about Scottie’s pussy has my cock taking notice, and lie back down on my bed.

I only manage an extra hour of sleep before a new text message notification pulls me back to reality. I figure it’s another text from Scottie, but I’m surprised when I see my brother Remy’s name on the screen.

Remy: You want to go see your girl in Daytona?

Me: What are you saying?

Remy: I’m saying that I pulled some strings, and if you can be at Teterboro Airport in ninety minutes, you can get to Daytona by this afternoon.

Me: How the fuck did you manage this?

Remy: Rich friends.

Me: You do realize you’re rich too.

Remy: I guess that helps. LOL. And good news, you can bring a few friends. Though, I have a feeling since it’s Kline Brooks’s plane, his daughter Julia and Ace Kelly will be going with you.

That outcome couldn’t be any more perfect.

Me: Thanks, bro. I owe you.

It feels weird to call him “bro” and yet normal, all at the same time. I can’t explain it. It’s as if I know what it used to be like—I lived it—but somehow, it feels like it’s been like this forever.

Remy: Just go have some fucking fun in Daytona, and I’ll consider us square.

Me: That, I can do.

Not even two minutes later, Ace’s phone starts ringing, and he groans as he turns to his side to take the call. “’Lo?”

He rubs at his eyes and runs a hand through his mess of dark hair. “No shit? Hell yeah, Jules!” He sits up straight in bed. “Count me in… Okay… Me, you, Finn, and Blake… I know, I know… I’ll be ready… Jules, I promise I won’t fuck around… Fuck, woman, you’re so bossy… Yeah, okay… See you in ten.”

“Good news, Finnley. Julia’s dad came through with—” He stops midsentence when he realizes I’m already dressed and have my duffel on my bed, smiling like a lunatic. “I guess you know the plan.”

I nod.

“Daytona Beach, here we motherfucking come!” he cheers as he hops out of bed.

Looks like I get to surprise my girl.

Scottie

Kayla squeezes my hand, and I grip Emma on the other side, our cross-armed, pre-routine circle in full effect. It’s a ritual we never miss before taking the floor, and my knees shake and my heart races as all of us ready ourselves for what lies ahead.

We’re next on the mat, and Coach Jordan stands before us, her eyes serious but her lips set in a smile. “This is what we’ve been training for,” she says. “The hours and hours of practices and training have brought us here. To this moment. And now it’s time to show the world what we’re capable of. Show them why we’re the best. Show them why we’re going to leave NCA Nationals with that trophy clutched in our hands.”

“Hell yeah!” Tonya cheers, and a few other girls yell along with her without releasing hands.

“I believe in you. Each and every one of you,” Coach Jordan states. “I know this is scary, but be brave and you’ll amaze yourself. Dig deep and find your courage. The moment you step on that mat, I want you to show the judges just how good I know you can be. I want to see you smiling and having fun. I want to see you working hard. I want to see the kind of focus I saw last night when we were running through our routine one last time. It all comes down to two minutes and thirty seconds, and I know you guys are going to make every second count. Now, everyone huddle,” she says, and we close our circle even tighter around her, letting go of one another’s hands and grabbing our poms from in front of us as we do.

“Poms in the center,” she says, and no one hesitates to follow her instructions. “One team!” she yells.

“One dream!” we respond in synchrony.

“One heart!” she exclaims.

“We believe!” Everyone shakes their poms in the center. “Dickson Dragons!”

“Let’s go, girls!” Coach Jordan shouts at the top of her lungs, and my heart is already pounding hard inside my chest as we line up just outside of the main stage mat.

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