Page 24 of Hell's Kitten

As our flyer is about to load for a basket toss, someone snaps, “Move!” It’s Tara. She gives us that same tight smile as she switches places with our back, wrapping her hands around the flyer’s waist. “Let’s see what you’ve got, then.”

“Uh, sure,” I say, giving Alannah a confident nod before looking back at the flyer. “We still good to do an X out with a double twist down?”

“No problem,” says our flyer as she grips tightly onto our shoulders.

I glance at Tara. “Do you want to call it or should I?—?”

“One, two, down, up!” Tara calls without warning. The flyer jumps, still holding our shoulders, and it’s a testament to Alannah and me that we grab onto each other’s wrists quickly enough so they’re interlocked underneath the flyer’s feet.

Damn. I try not to get rattled, but Lakelyn is watching, and Tara obviously isn’t going to make this easy for us.

“Ready?” Lakelyn asks, her clipboard up and her pen poised and ready.

“Ready!” we cry together.

This time, I’m ready for Tara’s “One, two, down, up!” and we fling the flyer upward.

I watch her like a hawk as she executes a beautiful X-shape with her body before twisting in the air. In theory, she’ll rotate twice before landing in a cradle position in my and Alannah’s outstretched arms with Tara bracing the backs of her shoulders.

But that doesn’t happen.

“Careful!” Tara yells, spooking the girl in the air. She jerks and Alannah and I end up catching her on her side in a tangle of limbs. Tara hasn’t got her back at all. In fact, she’s stepped away from the stunt entirely.

For some reason, she rounds on Alannah. “What were you thinking?” she snaps.

We let the poor flyer down gently before addressing Tara. “What?” Alannah says back in confusion.

“You’re the one who shouted,” I insist.

Tara turns her icy blue eyes on me. “Because you weren’t in the right position.”

“We were fine until you yelled at us,” I contend hotly. “And you moved back and didn’t catch her.”

“Okay, okay,” Lakelyn says, waving her hands. “Is everyone all right?”

We nod. I notice Professor Ulman has stood up with her hand on her chest, grimacing as she looks at us.

Great. Now she thinks we’re a liability.

Lakelyn says it’s all fine and she’s seen enough anyway, but I’m fuming. Tara has already slunk off, but it’s clear she’s got it in for my new friend.

“Fuck her,” I mumble into Alannah’s ear.

“No, thank you,” she mumbles back. “I have standards.”

Despite everything else going on, that warms my heart. After what Zazzle said, I was sure I wasn’t going to feel alone on the squad, but I’m even happier if Alannah is queer.

“We haven’t got long left,” Lakelyn is telling the wannabe Kittens. “So let’s tumble. Show us what you’ve got, even if it’s something simple. Do a cartwheel with style. We can still use that.”

I noticed earlier we’ve only got gym mats under our feet, no sprung floor. God, it’s been so long since I trained properly. I managed to get down the rec center back home this summer to brush off some skills, but right now, I’m still nervous.

Alannah, though, has fight in her eyes. We’re allowed to organize ourselves in a line, and she chooses to go near the front. When it’s her turn, she manages a half decent cartwheel butfinishes it off with some feisty spirit moves and the biggest grin like she just won the Olympics.

“Yeah! You go, baby!” I bellow as most other people clap enthusiastically for her effort.

But then I find myself dropping back and letting everyone else go before me as I chew on my thumbnail and fret.

What do I do? Something basic that I know I can land? Or something hardcore to wipe the smirk off Tara’s face? No, I want to get on the competition squad. It’s better to rein it in and not be so flashy. After almost two hours with this team, I can tell that they have a lot of heart but they’re not very advanced. We’ll be competing in a lower division, so my more advanced running tumbles won’t be legal anyway. Best not to be the new guy who shows off.

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