Page 145 of Twisted Ties
“You’re meant to be gearing yourself up for this match,” I grind out between my teeth. “Not gearing up for an orgy.”
“I’m just kidding, man,” Dan says, kissing Chloe’s cheek and placing her back on her feet, slapping her ass as she trots back towards the other girls. “I’m ready. And a little bit of light entertainment never hurt anyone before a match.”
I glare at Tristan, waiting for him to back me up here, but he’s lost in his thoughts, staring into space. Something he’s been doing a lot of recently. Either that or disappearing into thin air. If it wasn’t for Summer moaning about hisabsence, I’d take it personally and believe he was deliberately avoiding me.
“You’re becoming such a fucking bore, man,” Dan says rolling his eyes. Maybe that’s true. Maybe a few months ago, it would’ve been me encouraging Summer and Aysha to make out. Hell, I’d probably have got right in the middle of that and had them both making out with me at the same time.
It’s the dark cloud. It’s there constantly. Unmoving. My head pounding from the pressure of it.
“I just want to win this match.”
“Are your parents coming to watch?” Tristan asks.
I stare down at my boots, lifting my foot to retie my laces. “No fucking clue.”
I haven’t seen my parents since the winter holidays. And only then because I had nowhere else to go but home. They’re not like Tristan’s parents, stepping into the limelight at every opportunity. They may be powerful, but it’s a power wielded in a different way, and they have their reasons for clinging to the shadows.
“Mommy and Daddy coming,” Dan jokes, “is that why you’re so wound up? You want to impress them?” He presses his hand to his chest, mocking me. “How adorable.”
If we didn’t need him for the match, I’d blast him across the fucking changing room.
Instead, I manage one of my easy smiles, dazzling all the cheerleaders lined up for us. “No, planning to score for your mom. Always makes her hot for me.”
Dan leaps to his feet as the changing room erupts into laughter.
“Don’t speak about my mom–”
“Come on, man, don’t worry about it. I doubt she’d be able to fit me into her very busy schedule.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I wink at him and he looks like he might want to murder me. But then the changing room door opens and Coach walks in. He takes one unamused look at the girls and they flee before he says a word.
“You should be swotting up on last-minute plays, not chasing skirt,” he says, shaking his head.
“Kisses from cheerleaders are known to bring good luck,” Dan says.
“We don’t need luck. We’re going to crush them,” Coach says, with a glint of triumph in his eye. He lifts his fist and crunches it tight. “No mercy, boys. Give this everything you got.” He sticks his fist out in front of him and we gather around, laying our hands one on top of the other. I take the opportunity to squeeze Dan’s hand, grinning at him widely.
“This is the biggest match you’ll ever play as seniors, boys. Are you ready?”
“Hell, yeah,” we yell.
“What are you? A bunch of choir boys. I said, are you ready?!”
“Hell, yeah!!” we all shout.
“Then let’s do this.”
I punch my fist up in the air, adrenaline pumping through every muscle in my body.
Coach draws me in close. “I’m counting on you. Never had a dueler like you, Spencer. Go out there and show everyone just what you can do.”
I nod and he gestures for me to go first.
I pick up my feet and jog down the tunnel, out towards the light of the ground. The cheerleaders are lined up out there now, shaking their pom-poms and bouncing up and down.
The ground is alive with noise and movement, the roarof hundreds of people, the drone of the band, the yells of the cheerleading squad. Banners bristle in the wind, and arms wave. The helmet is tight on my head, my mouth guard rough against my gums, the taste plastic and sterile.
