Page 66 of Bad for Me

Important.

I ran a hand through my hair, biting my lip and putting on my best pouty face in the mirror, imagining Ava’s full attention on me.

I’d have her…and now I knew a sure-fire way to get her attention. By the very means that I found her in the first place...

Desire.

9

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

Ava

A vivid dreamof Ambrosia jerked me awake. She was in her mask, straddling me while she choked me. I gasped for air, my hands flying to my throat and my blood boiling under my skin. My cunt pulsed, and I was drenched from chest to thighs. I fell back onto my pillow, eyeing my clock…

3:33 on the digital screen.

I pushed my hair out of my face, chest heaving, and an ache inside my core that made my hips jerk of their own volition.

I looked over at Matt, peacefully snoring beside me, and immediately felt annoyed.

Annoyed at what, exactly? That he existed? That he married me?

There wasn’t much in my life that I could decide. At a young age, I became enamored with dance. Not just funky pop music, but ballet and ballroom dancing as well. Those classes exhausted me, and I eventually began doing gymnastics. My mother didn’t hesitate to capitalize on my talent, encouraging me to try cheerleading because she had her hands in the athletic pot at my school. Or I should say, they were in her deep pockets.

Dancing was my passion, but once someone takes away the freedom to do it when you pleased, it became more of a job.

That’s where I had met Matt. He was on the football team and like a tale as old as time; we went from high school sweethearts to married couple as soon as we were done with college.

Was I glad I married the one guy I had slept with? Well, that didn’t matter because mom and dad were happy.

Did it matter that I hated the entrée they chose? The dress?

None of that mattered because my parents were pleased. And you didn’t displease the Currier family. No one dared to contend with one of the wealthiest families in mid Vermont.

So, neither did I, naturally.

Fast forward ten years and you’re left with a bored housewife who looks forward to cheer practice in the fall and regionals in the Spring.

It was my only outlet of happiness, and I was getting downright tired of waking up next to Mr. Perfect and his unwavering ability to ‘compromise.’

Let’s try a three-way…I can just watch; I won’t touch the other girl. We can find someone. I know plenty of students who would love a chance with either of us.

Matt’s ability to manipulate and coerce became a strong source of annoyance for me. While I gave him reasons to get out, he continued giving me solutions and ways to make it work.

I don’t want to make it work. I want to be satisfied. I want to experience life outside of this suffocating box.

* * *

My body was tight,and I twisted my neck for some relief from the tension that built there since I woke up this morning.

I blew two sharp breaths into my whistle, the girls nearly toppling the pyramid they built with their bodies. I rolled my eyes. “Rebecca, you’re wobbly…tighten those muscles. What’s going on with you?”

Her face was blank as she stared straight ahead, looking as if she may crack if she moved her focus.

“She broke up with Tim yesterday, Coach. I told her she should’ve just stayed home,” Heather spoke for her, Rebecca’s face a sheet of white now.

I walked over to the stack of girls, patting her on her thigh. “Go home, Beck. We can put Mary in your place for now.”

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