Page 81 of Game On
“Do you want to just compete, or do you want to win?”
“Oh, come on. Right now, we don’t even know if we have a chance at all. If Coach Morgan will go for the ridiculous idea in the first place. I just want to qualify.”
I exhale, the breath misting in the morning air. “Fine. But if she lets me join the team, you have to promise to try it with me.”
“I promise.” Her voice softens. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m out on the balcony, trying not to wake Levi,” I say as I watch a jogger pass by below. “And you?”
“I’m lying in bed, doom-scrolling.”
“Where’s the discipline, Davies?” I tease.
“It’s Sunday morning. Don’t I get a break?”
“I’m fucking with you. Scroll all you want. We won’t be home till noon.”
“Skyline’s closed today,” she reminds me.
“We could hit the park?” I suggest, watching the sky brighten, a slow fade from dark to a wash of blue.
“You know of a good one?”
“I know of a great one. It will do us some good to get outside,” I say, “get a fresh perspective.”
There’s a rustle, the sound of sheets moving. “You know, I didn’t say it before, but … thank you. Honestly. You didn’t have to do this. Despite the gap in your schedule, I know you still have a lot going on.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to be of service.”
“So, I’ll see you later?”
“One o’clock. Hadley Park,” I confirm, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
“Mmm, I’ll be there.”
The line clicks and the call ends. I pocket my phone. The city is waking up, light spilling over tall buildings, and I’m strangely energized.
It’s early afternoon and we’ve made our way out to Hadley. The dew on the grass wets our shoes, but we’re too wired on adrenaline to care.
Luke’s here to spot, Ash is our coach for the day, and Sammy and Gabi have made themselves comfortable on a sprawling blanket. There’s an entire picnic spread out before them like they’re at some summer concert series rather than a cheer practice.
They shout occasional words of mock encouragement, munching on sandwiches and sipping from water bottles.“Just don’t drop her, Foxy. That’s precious cargo!” Gabi calls, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she waves a half-eaten apple.
I grin, even though I can tell Ella’s not entirely amused. The added noise, the casualness of it all, it’s affecting her concentration. She’s more stiff, more precise, as if she thinks their eyes are judging our every move.
After fumbling a trickier stunt, I drop my hands from Ella’s waist and turn to our spectators. “Maybe keep the commentary to a minimum, or, you know, just enjoy your picnic and kindly fuck off?”
Gabi rolls her eyes but complies, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leans back into her conversation with Sammy. They turn their attention away, and I catch Ella’s small, relieved smile.
“From the top?” she suggests, her voice steady, eyes clear.
“You got it,” I confirm, and we dive back into the routine. This time, we push through the entire sequence full-out, correcting earlier mistakes but hitting a slight bobble that only those as nitpicky as us would notice. Still, we power through to the end, and there’s a rush in completing it as a whole.
Ella’s eyes light up for a moment. It’s a sort of pure, unguarded pride, but she reins it in almost immediately, a subtle shift back to her cautious self.
“Pretty solid, huh?” I say, trying to keep that light from dimming too much.
“It was fine,” she says, her lips twitching into a smile that suggests she’s more pleased than she’ll admit.
