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"He made my fucking skin crawl. He had that look, you know, the rapey kind of look you can spot a mile away. The one your gut says stay the fuck away from. His smile was creepy and he always stared too long, like he was thinking nasty thoughts. I was glad Kova fired his ass. I almost quit because of him."
A memory flashed through my head as I stared ahead, trying to remember if I’d heard about that situation. I recalled Kova mentioning that he’d fired someone, but I couldn't place when or where he told me.
"Was he a mean coach?" I breathed heavily as a low, dull pain started in my lower back, but I brushed it off. I knew if I stopped even for five seconds that I’d be in trouble.
"Dude, he used to spit when he spoke. Every. Time. It was so gross. He was a nasty coach and so verbally abusive. He made Holly cry all the time. Kova and Madeline might ride us to the ground, they might push us to the brink until our bodies are ready to collapse, but they aren’t like him. Not even close. Kova got into it quite a few times with him because Kova didn't agree with his method of training. He was the kind of coach you hear about in the news."
We had two more laps to go. I was so parched. Thighs tight, my lower back ached each time my feet hit the asphalt. I needed water soon.
"So are you really going to ignore the massive elephant in the room?" Reagan said.
I groaned inwardly. Fuck. My. Life. I knew this was coming.
"I mean, you couldn't have expected me not to question you. I told you I'm nosy."
"And what do you do with the dirt you have on people?"
She tapped her temple, her head twitched to the side. "I keep it in the vault."
"Until you need to use it," I shot back.
"You either ride or die, Adrianna."
Reagan was cunning. I couldn't fault her for that, but I still thought carefully before I spoke. A sharpness cut through my chest and I took a deep breath to expel the pain, hiding it as much as I could from her.
"What do you want me to say? That I like our coach? Okay. Fine. I do. He's gorgeous as hell and he's got the body of a Greek god. You can't tell me you don't think so."
"Oh, I think he's sex on a stick, but that doesn't mean I'm going to bone him."
She went for the jugular. "I'm not boning him, Reagan."
We’d finally reached the end of the eighth lap and slowed down. Using the back of my hand, I wiped the sweat dripping down my face. Reagan took a few moments to breathe before she spoke again.
"Everyone likes him, Adrianna. But people don’t react the way you did the other day if they weren’t invested. Don’t bullshit me."
Panting, I asked, "Why did you do it? Why did you help me?"
She shook her head and shrugged, staring ahead like she was asking the question herself.
"I don’t know. I guess I had a moment of compassion and felt bad, which I rarely do. If people have the cognizance to make the stupid decision in the first place, they can handle the outcome. You knew what you were doing, but for some dumb reason I can't explain, I felt bad."
"What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" She looked at me, perplexed.
"You're so cynical. Unforgiving. Something had to happen to make you this way."
"I was born a bitch with a monstrous chip on my shoulder, Adrianna."
When I gave her a pointed look she continued. "Okay, fine. Let’s just say when your ambition and means don’t exactly align it can change a person. Harden them. I have the talent and drive to surpass this place"—she nodded toward the gym in general—"but my parents don’t exactly have the funds for more than this. And I want more. I got my full ride to a Division One college. And I got it by letting nothing and no one stop me." She arched a brow, as if to point out that I'd been doing the opposite.
I understood her underlying message. She hadn’t let anyone get in her way, especially me. She was a girl after her own dreams.
"By the way, we're not having a powwow here. I'm just telling you like it is this one and only time because of your sexcapades with our coach. Believe me, it won't happen again."
I laughed. "You can be such a bitch sometimes."
"I am what I am."
