Peyton's Path: Fighting Fate Book 2

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Peyton's Path: Fighting Fate Book 2 Page 17

by SM Olivier


  Zane was no Golden when it came to owning his looks. Golden was almost cocky when it came to compliments. He confidently embraced his golden boy looks. Zane was too humble and unpretentious to even acknowledge the fact that he was hot.

  “See you later, lover boy.” I winked at him before pushing open the locker room door.

  Hours ago, I wouldn’t have been able to joke with him, but the idea of having a temporary reprieve from Leah gave me optimism. I was still doubtful that her suspension would last a month, but even if I had a few days of her absence, it would give me a chance to recoup and recover.

  “Where is she?” Nan and Flossie immediately confronted me the moment I stepped into the locker room.

  Pop! There went all my feelings of euphoria I had felt moments earlier.

  “Back off, Kaseys,” Heather snapped, coming around the corner of the lockers, wearing only a sports bra and spandex shorts.

  I smiled my thanks to her before I tried to go around the non-twins.

  “She finally got punished for her actions,” I said nonchalantly. “Just be lucky that Mr. Fanning didn’t punish you for your involvement…yet.”

  “Move,” Marie said, stepping up beside the Nan and Flossie since they hadn’t budged.

  I didn’t want to get into a physical altercation with them, but I needed to change.

  Nan and Flossie exchanged looks before they stepped off to the side. “We didn’t do anything.”

  I laughed mirthlessly as I opened up my gym locker. “How dense are you guys? There are cameras throughout the whole school, and you weren’t as covert as you thought you were. There were witnesses.”

  Grandpa already informed me that someone had stepped forward to turn Leah in. The witness wasn’t able to identify Kasey and Casey by name. Instead, they described them as “the blonds” too. I had my suspicions of who exactly had stepped forward on my behalf. I had to figure out a way to repay Renee for her bravery.

  Grandpa also said they would be reviewing the tapes after the school day was complete. It was only a matter of time before the non-twins were caught as well.

  “They won’t do anything,” Nan spluttered. “My daddy gave the school the new scoreboard.”

  “And my dad donated our uniforms,” Flossie added smugly.

  I laughed grimly once more before I removed my clothes. “I hate to break it to you, but our new principal can’t and won’t be bribed.”

  Nan became brave once more. “Everyone has their price.”

  “What’s the holdup, ladies?” a tall brunette with amazing tan skin and a tight body came into the room, followed closely by Selena.

  Selena looked unhappy as she looked at us.

  I quickly slid on my razor-back tank top and cropped yoga pants. Nan and Flossie ran to their own lockers.

  “Let’s go, ladies, you have two minutes, or it’s a tardy.” The beautiful woman clapped her hands. “Meet me in class, and we’ll have a brief chat before class starts.” She turned on her heel and left without another word.

  I looked over at Marie and Heather. They seemed just as confused as I was to who this woman was. Did Grandpa come through yet again? Did Selena have one foot out the door?

  ●

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I need you to form a circle.” The new lady waited as we all found a seat. I found a place between Marie and Freddy. “My name is Ms. Houser, and I’m your new head coach. Ms. Rodriquez will be assisting me from here on out. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s going to be changes around here. I have retained all your grades, and quite frankly, a third of you won’t be able to continue cheering if you continue the path you are on. I’ll be seeking you out individually if you are in danger of dropping below the required grade point average I expect you to have. I want my squad to maintain a 2.8 GPA. I’m requesting−”

  “The school requires a two point three,” Nan blurted out with pursed lips.

  Ms. Houser regarded her for a moment. “Maybe that’s what the school deems acceptable. I do not. I expect a 2.8. That’s a C plus. Not hard to obtain, nor maintain at all and, please, raise your hand before interrupting me again.”

  Nan barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

  Ms. Houser narrowed her gaze on her for a moment. “As I was saying, I’m requesting that you give me your weekly progress reports from your teachers. At the end of class, I’ll be handing you sheets. Go on your student portal, input your grades for the week, and have your teachers sign them, verifying what you’re going to give me is correct. Every week before game days, I expect you to turn them in so I can determine if you’re performing with the team.”

  I heard several grumbles around the class, but I didn’t see the issue in it. I had no problem doing as she asked. I knew my grades were good, and it wouldn’t take me long to do as she requested.

  It was clear within a matter of moments she was no Selena. Our new head coach took her job seriously. My crappy day was definitely turning around.

  “I’ve had the opportunity to review some of the game-day routines,” Ms. Houser continued, “…and honestly, it’s not in a direction I think we should be heading. How many of you plan to do this in college?”

  Half the class raised their hands. She looked around with her dark eyes and nodded. “Okay, nearly half of you. If you want to pursue cheerleading seriously, we’re going to have to adjust the routines. The dancing is great, but the stunts are where it really is. I also noticed you aren’t registered in any of the competitions coming up, and I heard there was no interest.”

  Heather immediately raised her hand. Ms. Houser nodded at her. “We weren’t aware of any competitions.”

  Ms. Houser looked over at Selena with a frown. “Well, in that case, I think we have to change that as well. Competitions get you recognized by the colleges, so I’m adding that to our schedule. Fair enough?”

  It was my turn to raise my hand. She pointed at me and nodded. “Are the competitions a requirement for my grade? I mean…” I cleared my throat. “I want to compete in them, time permitted, but I’m on a competition team for dance, and I already have three competitions that I’m aware of for the next nine weeks.”

  Ms. Houser looked at me in contemplation. “We’ll see what we can do. I want the whole team to be on board, especially if we have routines that you may need to participate in, but I understand that you have previous obligations. Now, starting with you, I want you to stand, tell me your name, grade, something odd or interesting about you, and future plans.”

  I stood, trying not to get self-conscious. Public speaking was not my forte. It was different from dancing in front of people, where I could lose myself in music and shut everyone out.

  “I’m Peyton Delaney.” I cleared my throat once more. “I’m a senior this year. I’ve been dancing for almost fifteen years, and I hope to become a dancer one day, professionally.”

  “Like a stripper,” I heard either Nan or Flossie mutter loudly.

  “Nope, not in my class!” Ms. Houser glared in their direction. “Who made the unnecessary comment?”

  Neither Nan or Flossie owned up to it.

  “Fine then,” Ms. Houser continued. “We’ll do suicides until class is over until someone fesses up after we all introduce ourselves.”

  “The Kaseys.” Heather stood up with her own glare, eyeing the non-twins. “One of you said it, and I’ll be damned if we’re all getting punished for your pettiness. Your ring leader got in trouble today, and you’re on the way to getting caught, too. Don’t make it worse for yourselves.”

  “It was Casey with a C,” one of the girls immediately blurted, earning death glares from both girls.

  “Okay, in that case, Casey with a C… start running,” Ms. Houser said before she looked over at Heather. “You’re one of the captains?”

  Casey muttered before stomping to the far end of the room like a petulant child.

  Heather nodded and she sat back down.

  Ms. Houser smiled. “I see why. Which b
rings me to another point. The captain spots are up for grabs. However, Heather, you just earned the first spot.”

  Kasey with a K raised her hand immediately but didn’t wait to be called on. “Leah is the other captain. She’s been our captain since sophomore year, is it fair for her to not be able to keep her spot?”

  “I’m assuming you mean Leah Delaney?” Ms. Houser asked with a raised brow. Kasey nodded. “Well seeing how Leah is currently suspended for the next month, I don’t think she deserves the spot.”

  “We can hold it for her,” Selena said with a scowl.

  She obviously didn’t like the new rules either.

  “We can,” Ms. Houser said with a tilt of her head.

  Selena smiled.

  “But we won’t,” Ms. Houser added. Selena’s face fell. “I don’t condone bad behavior. As teachers and coaches, we need to prepare you for the real world.” She looked at us calmly. “If you were to get a job and not do the job you were hired to do, you’d be fired. We’re not terminating Leah per se. She will be welcomed back… if she meets the minimum requirements. However, she will no longer retain her position as the captain.”

  She looked around the room, meeting each gaze. “Captains should be leaders. Captains should encourage cohesion and inspire excellence. I’ll be watching for the next two weeks to see who will co-captain with Heather, but I’ll take your suggestions into consideration as well. Now, Peyton, can you tell us something interesting about yourself.”

  I looked at her in surprise and resisted the urge to clap. “Umm, something interesting… I have weird OCD tendencies, like I can’t eat Skittles without opening the whole bag and separating them by color. I prefer to save my favorite for last.”

  I heard laughter surround me, and for once it was with me and not at me.

  Ms. Houser even laughed. “I can never eat a Twix by biting into it. I peel off as much of the chocolate as I can first, then I eat the cookie part and leave the caramel for last.”

  I laughed once more. I never did that with Twix, but I ate my Kit Kats like that. I gnawed the chocolate off the outside and ate the wafers by layers—yes, I was weird.

  “I might start doing that too.” I groaned jokingly.

  Ms. Houser smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll never look at Skittles the same way again. Now, let’s see…” She pointed to Freddy. “Give me the details.”

  “I’m Freddy,” Freddy said, hopping up. “I’m also a senior. I want to get into sports medicine when I grow up.”

  Some of the class tittered at this. I smiled up at Freddy, encouragingly.

  “But college can be so spendy,” he went on. “I played football until I reached high school, and I realized I was on the wrong side of the field if I wanted a scholarship, so I became a yellman. And thanks to my girl Peyton and her impressive partnering ability, I have two offers for college.”

  I looked up at him and smiled. “No way!” I exclaimed, feeling so happy for him, like it was my own victory.

  “Way!” he nearly squealed. He picked me up and began to twirl me around. “My parents submitted our original practice videos, and two schools have already contacted me.”

  “I’m so happy for you!” I hugged him tightly.

  “Congrats!” Ms. Houser cheered happily.

  The squad began to clap, and Freddy finally put me down.

  “Enough about me. Your turn, Heather.” He smiled at her.

  Heather gave him a warm smile back, and I was reminded about Freddy’s unrequited feelings. I wondered if anything had come of that yet. I made a mental note to ask him about it later on.

  ●

  I was still in a great mood as I left the dance studio. Zane texted me, letting me know he was waiting outside for me. I headed out to meet him with an extra pep in my step. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn’t help but admire how hot Zane looked in his sleeveless black t-shirt and gray and black warm-up pants.

  His hair was still wet from the shower, and I could smell his soap wafting off him. He also smelled like bodyspray, and I breathed in his deliciousness. He gave me a full dimpled smile, and I couldn’t help but feel lucky that it was mine.

  “How was Dance?” he asked before reaching for my hand.

  I bit my lip, remembering the promise I made to Anya. How could I convince him to do a few competitions in exchange for his mother coming to one of his games? I wanted it to be a surprise, too, so I couldn’t let him know why I was working on him on behalf of his mother.

  “Great, actually,” I stated. “I really connect with the dance and song that they finally decided on for our group number. It came together tonight, and we were able to run through it three times without anyone making a mistake.”

  “Bailey, too?” he asked skeptically.

  I laughed. “Bailey, too. I think her losing her solo and the lead in our group number has lit a fire in her. I overheard some of the girls say that she was working on it nonstop with Wendy and a few of the other girls today during their tutoring session.”

  “Does that worry you?” he asked tentatively. “If she actually applies herself, she might get her spots back for the next competition.”

  I shook my head without hesitation. “Not at all. I’m not in competition with the girls. I’m in competition with myself. If I don’t get a solo, or if I lose the lead, that’s all on me, or maybe I didn’t fit the part that was necessary to connect with the audience and judges.”

  He laughed softly. “You are so refreshing at times.”

  I smiled shyly and shrugged. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Honestly, I wanted to perform all the solos and all the leads, but I truly believed my wants came in second to what was best for the school. If I got complacent and lost it due to my skills, then I needed to work harder. If I lost a spot because it wasn’t a solo or lead designed for me, then I was mature enough to realize there were some things I wasn’t the greatest at.

  I wasn’t delusional enough to desire a Jazz solo that wasn’t designed for me. Jazz was my least favorite dance. I never gave a hundred percent to it, so I didn’t deserve the lead spot, and I was okay with that. If I wanted it bad enough, I needed to work harder in that area.

  “Who did Mom give the other solo to?” Zane inquired.

  “Renee!” I said excitedly. He gave me a surprised look. “I know! The girls were just as surprised by it. I swear Renee nearly had an anxiety attack. But she deserves it. She is an amazing dancer, and hopefully, if she places this weekend, she’ll realize it. However, I plan to help her out as much as possible. If enough of us tell her she’s astounding maybe she’ll start believing it herself.”

  “How do you plan to do that?” he asked with another warm smile.

  “I spoke with her Dad,” I admitted cautiously. “For the rest of the week, I told him not to worry about picking her up and shuttling her around. We’ll be taking her to school and bringing her back to the studio. She needs people in her corner, and Star already okayed me to skip my own practice time and help Renee out. She still wants me to run my number a couple times for her, but then I’m free to help Renee.”

  He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it. “You really are amazing and have a huge heart.”

  I smiled shyly at him once more. “Thank you, but truthfully, I know what it’s like to fight to get noticed, and I remember how hard it was, especially if I hadn’t had mentors. Plus, I think… no—” I shook my head “—I know I wouldn’t have found my voice either.”

  I took a deep breath. “Now I have a huge favor to ask you.”

  “Anything,” he said without hesitation.

  “Wait,” I said seriously. I turned in my seat and looked at him head on. “No promises yet, and I don’t expect you to say yes immediately, but I want you to consider it. I really, really hope you say yes.”

  He looked over at me with a raised brow. “Okay,” he said tentatively. “Shoot.”

  “I want you to do a duet with me. We have a huge competition coming up, and a lot
of talent scouts, colleges, and production companies will be there,” I rushed out. “If I don’t secure a solo or the lead, I need another option. I need to be on stage as much as possible to get more facetime. There are no senior male/female duets, and I think if we work really hard, we can choreograph and perform a moving piece. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to create a piece that is thought-provoking and heart-stirring.”

  He looked over at me briefly, and I could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “Did my mom ask you?”

  I contemplated fibbing for a moment but knew I wouldn’t appreciate it if he lied to me, even over something as insignificant as this.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “She got me thinking about it. She wants you back on stage, but so do I. I’ve seen you make football look like a dance, and I could only imagine what kind of partner you would make.”

  “Did she tell you why I quit dancing?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No. I thought you didn’t like being harassed by the other boys your age.”

  “That was part of it,” he said quietly. “My… father was the real reason I quit.”

  I waited with bated breath. I wasn’t going to push him to divulge anymore to me. It seemed like I had to wait for an eternity before he spoke again. By then, we were parked in the grocery store parking lot.

  He put the SUV in park and then turned towards me. He looked down at our joined hands and swallowed once more. “When my mother met my father, he was estranged from his family in Greece. He moved to the city, determined to live the American dream. Ultimately, through hard work, he became successful at it, too. My dad was an alpha male. He was a successful businessman that traveled a lot, sometimes back home to Greece. When he reconnected with his family, though, he…changed. I don’t know if it was the stress of his job or the influence of his family, but he became…meaner.

  “When I was younger, he humored my mother and allowed her to put me in dance. As I got older, though, he insisted that she take me out. He was a macho male. Boys shouldn’t cry, boys should play ball and not dance, boys needed to become men so they could provide for their families, someday. Since he traveled a lot, mom chose to ignore him. She continued to teach me. When I was ten, he came home early. He followed us to a competition. When we got home, he was furious. He beat my mother. He told her if she ever disobeyed him again, it would be the last time.

 

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