Page 24 of Game On
She pulls her hair into a high bun, yanking out a few face-framing pieces. “No need to be. Hazing is not our style, and Morgan would have anyone’s head for even thinking about it.”
“Okay, true.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “She’s a bit scary, isn’t she?”
“Morgan? She’s terrifying,” she says. “But that’s what we love about her.”
The next day is a sprint from the start. Morning warm-ups are a lesson in how many ways you can stretch a muscle before it screams for mercy. But it’s the afternoon stunt class that really puts me through my paces.
I’m a natural flyer, but my practices at Skyline have taken things to another level. Ash, bless him, has the patience of a saint and the coaching skills to match. He’s been my shadow at the gym for the last two months, fine-tuning each move until it’s sharp enough to cut.
Now we’re ready to put all that hard work on display. This isn’t like the game-day practices I’ve been saddled with at Whitland, a spirit squad that’s main intention is to rally acrowd. This is the cheer I’ve grown to love over the years—filled with athleticism, power, and skill.
We take our time, prepping some easier lifts and stunts first. Basic cupies and libs, before working our way up to the more complex stuff. We move into a shoulder sit, then transition into a full extension, Ash pressing me up above his head. After a few successful runs, we add a pop-off dismount, where I push off Ash’s hands and land lightly on the mat.
With these basics nailed down, Ash calls for a handski. He lifts me from a ground position straight up into a handstand, balancing me there for a moment before bringing me down into a cradle.
Finally, he suggests a round-off rewind. We haven’t done these together before, but I trust his judgment. He knows my limits now. So, after he verbally walks me through it, I plant my hands on the mat and flip backwards. As I come out of the round-off, Ash catches me mid-air, his grip secure as he propels me up into a rewind, spinning me back to my feet.
I fall out but grit my teeth, adrenaline surging through me as I ready myself for another try. My heart races and blood runs hot through my veins. Each time I launch into the move, there’s a split second of weightlessness, a fleeting moment where I feel like I could fly. Right before I fuck it all up again.
It’s three more times before I even come close to holding it, and the repetition is brutal. Each failed attempt leaves my body aching and bruised. Falling out of stunts or missing the mark isn’t just a blow to my ego; it physically hurts. The impact jars every bone, leaving me winded and sore.
Yet, with each attempt, my determination builds. I canfeel the energy of the gym buzzing around me, the focus of my teammates, and the unwavering support from Ash. The pain and exhaustion blur into the background as my mind zeroes in on perfecting the stunt.
When we finally clear it twenty minutes later, I’m elated.Thisis why I push myself, why I endure the pain and the setbacks—because moments like this make me feel truly alive.
I’m still celebrating with Ash when I spot our captain, Claire, out of the corner of my eye. I haven’t spoken to her much since that night at Sidetrack, but she’s here, watching us like a hawk.
There’s something discerning about her gaze that knots my stomach into tight little loops. But before I can spiral, Gabi’s at my side, offering a bottle of water and some much-needed perspective. “She’s just shocked,” she says in a low voice. “And probably wondering how you caught up so fast.”
I snort, eyeing Claire from across the gym. “Or plotting my demise,” I joke, but the quip lands flat against my own nerves.
She bumps my shoulder with hers, grinning wide. “Nah, you and Ash are a power couple already. She’s probably worried you’re gonna do partner stunts at Daytona.”
Daytona. The stage for the U.S. national cheer comp in Florida, a word that instantly conjures up visions of sandy beaches and fierce competition under the sun. I’ve watched them live on Varsity TV for years, but this time I’ll be there in person.
And the thought of competing on such a grand stage, at such a high level, is thrilling. It’s exhilarating. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” I ask, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow. “Another pair from Whitland with the potential to place?”
“Yeah, sure,” she says, laughing. “Another opportunity to show up Claire and Evan. They placed second the last two years, right behind a pair from Wyler State.”
“Oh, God.” I take a long swig of water, letting the cold liquid soothe my dry throat. “Well, I’ve only been working with Ash for a couple of months. I doubt we’ll put them in any real danger.”
She winks. “Don’t sell yourself short. Chemistry is chemistry, and you have it in spades. Those two, on the other hand, are forced together by sheer power of will.”
She nods in the direction of Claire, and a man I assume is Evan, as they parade their skills across the gym. It’s an almost comical display of acrobatics, each move more elaborate than the last, culminating in a full-up tick-tock to stretch—a little wave at the top with her free hand—that screamslook at us.
“They’re putting on quite the show, aren’t they?” Gabi muses, a brow arched.
I watch for a moment, awestruck. Those two move with the kind of polished grace that only comes from years of practice. Once I’ve snapped out of it, I take a deep breath before heading back to Ash. “Let them have their spotlight,” I say to him, shrugging off the sudden urge to compete. “We’ve got our own work to do.”
Ash grins, bouncing on his toes, ready to get back into it. “You want to give them a run for their money, El?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. How about we nail that inversion first?”
As we set up for another full-out, a ripple of satisfaction courses through me. Sure, Claire and Evan are impressive, but Ash and me? We’ve got something different. It’s not about the showmanship or the need to prove anything. It’s about the process, the sheer joy of hitting a stunt just right, and the silent understanding between us that says we’re in this together.
I look at Ash with a determined grin. “Let’s go.”
