Page 18 of Wristlocked
But it’s Gia, and the coup of making the showcase as freshmen is something we’ve been plotting together for a long time. I know in the end, I’ll let her convince me to at least try. Doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for her, though.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to share the spotlight,” Ren observes. “And if he wants doubles, isn’t there some sophomore girl in your class he could use?”
Gia shakes her head.
“Fuck Taylor.” She nudges him with her shoulder. “She’s a fucking little cunt.”
Ren laughs at both her use of his favorite word and her ridiculous attempt to mimic his accent. Even I have to crack a smile.
“Give her the controller,mate,” I say. And then to Gia, I add, “We’ll race for it. You beat me, and I’ll let you drag me to try out for the spot.” It’s a futile gesture, but I can’t resist wanting to prolong her playful mood. And pretend I’m the cause of it for a little while.
She makes me play the full cup after I smoke her on the first track, but she still only manages to beat me one out of four races. By the end, she’s recruited Ren to tickle me, and we’re all a laughing, breathless mess. I want to take her back to her room and lose myself inside her, even though I know it will come at a price.
Six days later, Gia and I go to meet with Shepard about a spot in his winter showcase act.
He’s holding his auditions in one of the single-point practice rooms. One wall is lined with mirrors, and a table with a laptop and a sound system is set up on one side, with a few folding chairs scattered along the walls. Gale is lounging in one, looking at his phone and chewing on his lip ring. He looks up when we enter and shakes his head.
“If you’re here about the showcase auditions, forget it,” he says, going back to his phone. “I don’t need two straps babies fucking up my act.”
I have a brief fantasy of walking up to him and punching that lip ring through his teeth. He seems to have a gift for bringing uncharacteristic violence out of me. Gia threads her fingers through mine and gives a squeeze.
“Fuck that,” she says, matching his dismissive tone. “We’re not babies, and you know it. You’ve seen us train. We’re at least as good as you were at your first showcase.”
He snorts. “I was a fucking mess at that show. You’re not helping your case.”
“At least tell us what you’re looking for.”
“Fine.” He pockets his phone and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and giving her his full attention. “I am considering a straps duo. But I don’t need another base. That part’s mine.”
Gia looks at me, and I shake my head. I knew this was a waste of time.
“Why not a trio?” she asks. “It’d be more original. More dynamic.”
“They only give you one point for aerials in the showcase. They do it in the small theater so they can sell the tickets for two hundred bucks a pop. And nobody does trio straps on one point. Too dangerous. Costa would have a fit if I asked.” He shakes his head as if to drive home the point that we’re wastinghis time. “I might consider usingyou, but I definitely don’t need him. I’m not very good at sharing.” He’s taunting now, and neither of us miss the innuendo.
“What about some kind of stylized fight scene?” Gia counters. “We could do that on one point with two of us in the air at a time, and I’m pretty sure you can pull off the vibe.”
That last part is almost a dig, and I give her a curious look. She’s obviously been thinking about this beyond our own arguments. Given her general reluctance to practice duo moves with me in the past, I’m curious how she thinks we’ll pull it off. I wish he’d kick us out, but I can tell by the way he’s watching her now that he’s sucked into the Gia spell.
“With you as the spoils of war? Doesn’t sound like your style, from what I’ve heard.”
“Or maybe I’m the one who kicks both your asses?”
I laugh—not because it’s absurd but because I can totally see her vision, and it actually might be a stroke of genius.
“I fight dirty,” he says. “And it’s my choreography. The only incentive I’d have to cast your pretty boy here is if he could do something I can’t do better.”
“One-arm inlocs?” she offers. “A Maltese-planche switch?”
I can’t actually do the second one, although I’ve been working on it. Shepard knows it, but she charges ahead. “His roll ups are amazing. He’s the best in our year, and you know it.”
“I’m the best in the school.” He’s not taking the bait.
“Fuck this,” I say, done watching them banter. “C’mon, Gia. Let’s get out of here before he wants to whip it out and compare sizes.”
“Maybe you should?” She actually winks at me before turning back to Gale. “Lyot has a huge dick. Would that help?” If she’s shocked him, he doesn’t react.
“I have a big dick too, princess.” He gives her a smirk. “I’ll ask again, what can he do that I can’t do better?”
