Page 45 of Learning Curve

“You know, Ace,” I chime in and nudge him with my elbow. “Now would be a good time to tell us what the actual plan is…”

“Yeah,” Kayla pipes up. “Why do you need a bunch of cheerleaders to prank your dad?”

“Let’s get upstairs first, and then we’ll get down to the nitty-gritty. I don’t need any nosy fucks in the lobby ruining shit,” Ace counters as he guides us toward a bank of elevators. One is already available, sitting idle on the ground floor, and the six of us file in while Ace plays gentleman and holds the door.

“How about you tell us now?” Tonya questions once the elevator doors shut.

“How do you ladies feel about changing out of your uniforms into something else?” Ace tosses out, completely ignoring Tonya.

“Something else?” Kayla retorts. “Ace, if you’re trying to get us to wear thongs and pasties, I will kick you in the dick.”

“No! No! Nothing like that.” Ace cracks up, but he also covers his crotch with one hand. He tilts his head to the side. “You should meet my mom, though. The two of you think alike.”

Kayla crosses her arms over her chest and settles into a hip, and Ace holds up two hands in front of himself. “It’s a cheerleading uniform like the ones you’re wearing, but it’s just a little more specific to the situation.”

“If we agree, will it make this get over faster?” Emma asks. “I mean, this is our only day this week that we don’t have practice, so I’m hoping to actually enjoy the downtime at some point.”

“Yes, it will make this go faster,” Ace answers.

“Fine,” she agrees, followed by the rest of us nodding too.

The elevator dings its arrival on the thirtieth floor, and we follow Ace out of the cart and onto a completely empty floor that looks like it’s under some kind of reconstruction. Plastic tarps and tools and buckets are littering the space, and the smell of fresh paint is thick in the air.

“Um…Ace?” Kayla questions as she takes in the bare room. “It’s time to tell us the plan.”

“Relax.” Ace laughs. “This isn’t our final destination. This is just the best place to get you guys ready for showtime.” He glances around the room like he’s looking for something but, eventually, just shouts, “Yo, Blake! Finn! Where the hell are you?”

My stomach drops. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have known he would be here. They’re best friends.

Still, if I’d realized, I definitely wouldn’t have come. I’m sure five cheerleaders would have been just as good as six.

Blake and Finn walk across the massive space with brown paper bags in their hands, and I have to remind my lungs how to breathe with each long stride he takes closer. I’m still so livid at him for making it be this way.

He smiles at the group but avoids my eyes, so I use the opportunity to look at him more closely. The new bruise on his face is yellowing now—it’s healing definitely behind the rest, and the split in his lip is completely scabbed over.

“You got the goods?” Ace questions, and Blake grins, holding up the bags in his hands.

“You know it, buddy.”

“Fuck yeah,” Ace cheers, opening Blake’s bag and handing Kayla the first uniform and set of poms. I stand back as Finn hands out his too, hoping to avoid talking to him directly, but when the other girls are done and there’s only one left, Finn is the one to have it.

He holds it out for me to take, his eyes holding mine with all the same voodoo magic they’ve had since the first day I met him. If I let myself, I could fall directly into their warm brown pools and stay there.

When his lips part and it seems like he’s going to say something to me, I snatch the uniform and poms from his hands and spin on my heel to face Ace. “Where are we supposed to change?”

“There’s a bathroom over there,” Ace answers, pointing down a small hallway near the elevators.

Kayla locks elbows with me and marches us that direction, and I don’t look back.

If Finn Hayes wants to play it cold, I can be icy too.

Finn

“All right, ladies,” Ace whispers as the elevator stops on the fortieth floor. “It’s showtime!”

Blake lifts the two-thousand-dollar camera Ace handed him downstairs and starts filming, and all six girls file out of the cart on a synchronized jog, their Kelly Financial uniforms sparkling in the office lighting. The heels of their gym shoes tap their asses with each step, and their hands clap in perfect timing.

I trail behind, embarrassed, but unwilling to miss any of the action.

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