AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Move to the side if you’re going to stalk me,” I told Tanner, shooing him irritatedly with my hand. Seemingly in a daze, he stepped backward until he was pressed against the wall.
I dropped to the ground, prepared to begin my stretches. Tanner crossed his arms over his chest, silently watching me. When I moved into the splits and threw my upper half forward, he made a weird sound in the back of his throat.
“You’re flexible,” he murmured.
Unable to help myself, I twisted my head to smile at him. “You should see me in bed.”
I turned my face away before I could see his reaction.
After I finished my stretches, I stood up and tossed him my phone. He caught it easily, brow furrowing in confusion.
“Can you be a dear and press play when I tell you to?” I asked, moving to my starting position.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. No. If you’re going to stalk me, the least you could do is press a damn button. I know that’s hard for you to compute—”
My spiel was interrupted by the beginning notes of my song. Sticking my tongue out at him one last time, I allowed the music to reverberate through my body.
Gymnastics wasn’t just flipping and tricks. It was a dance, an art form, a way to express yourself. I could feel the music from the tips of my fingers to my toes. It pounded within me, demanding an outlet.
My choreographer had decided I did best at jazz and contemporary, and my routine reflected that choice. When I got to the first tumble pass—roundoff, back handspring, full—I took a deep breath. It wasn’t nerves I felt, but exhilaration. Suspended in the air as I was, I felt like I was flying. Everything always appeared so insignificant during that brief moment when my feet were off the ground.
I landed perfectly, flashing a bright smile at no one in particular. Actually, I take that back. It was a smile for myself. I was damn proud I had stuck it.
Continuing the routine, I did an aerial that led down to the splits. My body swayed with the beat; every twist and turn was as natural as breathing. My hardest stunt was a full-twisting double layout, and I landed it with only a bobble.
By the time I had finished, I was breathing heavily. I always had a high after I finished a perfect routine, and today was no different. Usually, that meant I wanted to either fight or fuck. Since Tanner was the only male in the vicinity, I settled for scowling at him.
His mouth was comically agape, eyes wide. I also noticed that his pants were very obviously tented.
Putting an extra sway to my hips, I moved to where he was standing. His eyes followed me as if I had my own magnetic force field. Those pouty lips of his opened, and his tongue snaked out to lick the edge. His hands rose almost instinctively.
I held out my hand to him, tapping my foot impatiently. I tried to pretend I wasn’t affected by him, but I knew I wasn’t succeeding. My breathing was almost embarrassingly loud. At least I could contribute that to my workout. What was his excuse?
When he stared at me blankly, I nodded toward my phone still clutched in his hand. With what seemed like reluctance, he dropped the phone into my waiting hand.
“What the hell was all that?” To clarify what he meant by “that” he made dramatic looping motions with his hands. Guys were so clueless sometimes.
“That was gymnastics.” I reached down to grab my sweatpants and then sweatshirt, a short distance away. I debated whether or not to redress, but decided against it. The last thing I wanted to do was get my clothes all sweaty before my shower.
“I thought gymnastics was like pom-poms and school spirit and all that shit.”
Rolling my eyes, I bent down to take a sip of water from the drinking fountain. I could feel his eyes on my ass, but it only tempted me to shake it like a lunatic.
Figured that would make me look like I was seizing. Totally not sexy.
“That’s cheerleading,” I said at last, wiping water from my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Is there a difference?” he questioned briskly. Despite his tone, I could see genuine curiosity in his eyes. It was that curiosity that compelled me to answer.
“Both are sports, obviously, despite what people say. Have you ever watched college cheerleading or gymnastics? The things they can do with their bodies…that shit’s intense. It requires dedication and work ethic. I train five hours a day, five days a week. Once you commit to it, you can’t do it half-assed. Competitive cheer involves both gymnastics and stunting.” When he stared at me dumbly, I elaborated in simpleton terms. “Cheerleading is dancing, flipping, and throwing people up in the air. At least competitive. Sideline cheer is different, and that actually involves cheers.”
“And you do gymnastics?” he asked.
I nodded, stepping outside. The heat greeted me immediately, and I was suddenly grateful I hadn’t put my sweats back on. It was blisteringly hot, the sun broaching the horizon in the cloudless sky. A few people were already up and about, walking the campus dressed in the traditional academy uniforms.
Conformity at its finest, my friends.
