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“Daya!” Eva screams, rushing to me and wrapping me up in a tight hug. “Honey, I’m so sorry!”
I hold up my fists full of torn paper, the shreds of my dignity, and whisper, “They’re everywhere. Why?”
“I don’t know, Daya. I don’t…I’m so sorry.” I nod numbly, appreciating her hold on me because otherwise I think I’d fall to the floor and cry. The others on my side crowd around us, each giving me hugs and words of encouragement. It’s too late. I know that sounds mean and ungrateful. But the damage has been done. Whoever did this, accomplished what they wanted. To humiliate me. Shame me.
I know who did this, I don’t have any proof, but what I don’t understand is why. I did nothing to them. I simply existed and I can’t for the life of me figure out how that so egregiously offended her that she would set about to destroy me. Not physically, at least not yet, but mentally. Emotionally. She’s trying to cripple me and I’m ashamed to say I think it’s working.
“Daya.” I close my eyes on a heavy sigh and turn around to face Jenna. Our coach is pissed as hell when I open my eyes to face the music. She’s a pretty woman, but right now, she looks like she could go a few rounds with Connor MacGregor and win. That doesn’t bode well for me.
I think what sucks the most is that I’ve been making all these plans in my head for Addy and I. Building a possible future in my dreams. And when Jenna points to the main hallway, I feel those dreams evaporate like smoke on the wind. I nod; shoulders slumped and follow her out of the locker room. We walk in silence down the hall to her office. Once inside, I sit in the chair she points to as she shuts the door with a finality that startles me.
Is this a record? Shortest college cheering career in history.
Jenna sits behind her desk and opens her mouth, but I start talking before she can get a word out. “I’m so sorry, Jenna, for causing trouble and disrupting practice. I’ll try to have all the pictures down before I leave to pack up my things. I’m very grateful for the opportunity you gave me and I—”
“Woah! Woah!” Jenna holds up her hands, practically screaming at me, as she stands quickly and rounds her desk to sit next to me. “Daya. You think I brought you in here to yell at you?” I nod, biting my bottom lip until I taste blood. “Pack up?” She sits back in shock, making a series of unintelligible noises. “You honestly think I’m kicking you out of the program? The university?”
“Aren’t you?”
“NO!” I jerk back in my seat, the vehemence of her answer a little terrifying. “You’re the victim! I was briefed on what happened after the game on Saturday. And then to see the flyers…and the mass text—”
“Mass text?” I screech. It’s worse than I thought. She winces, placing a warm hand on my arm and squeezing.
“I spoke to Zeigler and Smith in security. They informed me that they are unable to determine who stole your belongings after the game. As far as the flyers and text, they are working on it. I just…I’m so sorry, Daya. I brought you here, convinced you to leave home and trust me and I’ve let you down.”
“It isn’t your fault—”
“I’m responsible for you. For your safety. Physically and mentally. And I’ve failed you.” She leans forward, sliding her hand down my arm to grab my own hand. It’s comforting. Motherly, though she’s less than 10 years older than me. “Do you need to speak to a counselor? Therapist? I can arrange—”
“No.” I rush to say, wincing when I realize I cut her off. “Sorry.” I look down at my hand in hers and feel a rush of emotion surge through me. “I’m ok.” And I am. I will be, anyway. I’ve got Jenna, Eva, many of the squad, my family…and Addy at my back. I don’t have to do this alone. And whoever hates me this much is in the minority. Also, it’s their problem not mine. I didn’t do anything to anyone. I refuse to take responsibility for someone else’s actions. “It’s stupid and hurts, and I hate it, but I’m not traumatized by it. I don’t think I need a professional at this time.”
Jenna eyes me speculatively, and I know she doesn’t quite believe me, but she’s taking me at my word for now. “You have the photoshoot with Edee on Wednesday. Lilly and I made a listof costumes to wear, and some specific poses and action shots. Edee has the same list, so review it tonight after practice and let me know tomorrow if you have any problems or questions.”
“Will do.” I meet her eyes and smile softly. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, I don’t deserve it.”
“Tough. You can’t tell me not to be thankful.” I joke and she laughs with me, shaking her head.
“Alright, get out of here. That workout isn’t going to complete itself.”
With a deep breath, I exit Jenna’s office and head back into the locker room. It’s blessedly empty as everyone has already gone to the gym. I change quickly, grab my water bottle and towel, attach my phone to the arm band, and pop in my AirPods. As soon as I’m through the door, the pungent odor of sweat and disinfectants coating my lungs, Addy grabs me and lifts me off my feet. I’m giggling while he bounces me around, much to the amusement of most of the squad. I spot Shaye, Lindsay, and Jillian glaring at me, but decide to ignore them.
“Itty Bitty, are you alright? I asked the janitor to help take down the flyers that the guys and I didn’t get. They should be all gone by the time we’re done here.”
I smile at him and rub my nose along his. “I’m good. Thank you.” Conscious of everyone in the room, Addy kisses my forehead and the tip of my nose before setting me down. We start our workout and it’s cathartic to sweat my way through the circuit. With every rep, I feel the stress melting away. Nothing I can’t handle. Nothing I can’t survive.
“Addy, are you sure you aren’t gay?” Jillian says in a loud voice from next to the bench press where Addy is spotting me. When Ilift the barbell, Addy helps me rack it safely. “I don’t think Daya here is female at all.”
Lindsay titters obnoxiously, “Didn’t know you liked ‘em butch, Mic-Man. Guess I never stood a chance, huh?”
I watch upside down from my position on the bench as Addy’s head slowly turns so he can look directly at the two of them. They back up a few inches, shifting on their feet under the weight of his glare. “You never stood a chance because I prefer women with substance.” His eyes drop down the lengths of their bodies but not in a sexual way. “And no STDs.” Lindsay gasps, her face growing redder by the second, before she bites back a sob and rushes from the gym. He directs his ire to Jillian, who seems to shrink in on herself. “I’ve never cared much for labels; gay, straight, bi…I’m whatever it means to be attracted to Daya.” He gives me a salacious grin. “I’m Daya-sexual.” His grin melts into a scowl when he meets Jillian’s deer-in-the-headlights cautious gaze. “Since you like labels so much, what do you think of adulterer?” Jillian’s eyes grow impossibly wider. “Or do you prefer the classics like homewrecker?”
Her bottom lip quivers and for a brief moment I almost feel bad for her, until she whispers, “He said he was going to leave his wife.”
Addy rests his arms on the bar above my head, asking with mock-concern, “Did he?” She takes several stuttered steps back, then spins around and flees. With a sigh, Addy stares across the room, his body poised for a fight. I follow his line of sight, my lip curling when I see Shaye staring right back at him. There’s a tense moment in which the entire gym seems to hold its breath. Eva stands at my side, leaning on the other end of the bar.
Eva says with a smirk, “You got anything to say, Shaye? Addy seems eager to share. I’m curious what skeletons he’s uncovered in your closet.”
