Fake It 'Til You Break It(82)

“Everyone, gather in the center and sit,” she instructs, quickly adding, “Demi, stay standing if you would.”

I force a blank stare but I do as she instructs, stepping forward a few feet and slightly to the left.

“Why don’t you ditch the sweater.” She lowers to her knees.

Slowly, I untie the hoodie from around my waist and toss it toward her, leaving me in my stretchy workout shorts and sports bra.

“Everyone, Demi is going to perform the full routine, on her own, for you so you can have a good idea of what we’ll be doing Friday night.”

I run my tongue over my teeth, squaring my shoulders in preparation.

I don’t know what she’s thinking, I have no reservations about performing for people. I’d dance in front of the President if he asked me to and not bat a damn lash.

I know what I’m capable of.

She presses play and I do exactly as she asks, not missing a damn beat.

She doesn’t look so smug when the music stops and everyone cheers.

“Again,” she snaps as she sits back, and I move into position once more, my muscles locking when she calls out, “Alex. Run through the first part with her.”

Is she joking?

Alex steps up with no hesitation whatsoever, planting his chest to my back, but I jerk away, unease twisting in my gut.

I whip around, glaring at her. “I’m not doing this.”

“Excuse me?” Miranda barks.

“I said I’m not doing this.”

She crosses her arms, gauging me.

I look at Nico, but he’s blocked from my view when Alex slides over, reaches out and grips my hips roughly. “Come on, just do what she asked.”

I don’t even have time to peel his filthy hands off me when Alex is suddenly tackled to the ground, causing me to fall as well.

Everyone shouts, scooting back.

“Nico!” Miranda screams. “Enough!”

Her shrill cries do nothing to derail him.

Nico jolts to his feet, towering over Alex, and serving him with a swift kick to the side.

Alex grunts, rolling over as Trent hurdles forward, driving Nico back to stop this from getting any worse.

“Get the fuck off me!” Nico throws his hands up, knocking Trent’s away with disgust.

Raw grief is written across Trent’s face, so clear I know Nico sees it, too, but he refuses to acknowledge it, and jumps in his face, clearly ready to shout something else, but suddenly he looks at me.

I swallow past the sudden ache in my throat.

His nostrils flare, his chin lowering, and I’d swear he’s shaking.

My body lurches forward, ready to stand and step toward him, but he quickly shifts, bumping his shoulder into Trent’s with a fixed force.

Nico kicks a chair, sending it flying across the gym floor, and throws open the door with a hard shove on his exit.

I push to my feet, ignoring all the wide eyes focused on me, and follow.

“Demi!” Miranda shouts. “You’re not excused.”

I jerk to a stop, my shoes squeaking on the flooring as I whip around. “Fuck off, Miranda.”

The girls gasp, some giggle and cover their mouths, but I don’t stay back to hear anything else. I run out the door.

Nico is nowhere in sight, so I dash to the parking lot, catching his door right before he slams it shut.

His head snaps my way, his glare quickly turning into shock only to switch right back.

“Get out,” I snap.

He scoffs, sitting back in his seat. “Nah, I’m good. You finally got the hands on you you’ve been waiting for, why don’t you run back in there, D? Wouldn’t want to keep your boy waiting.”

Anger ripples down my spine and I step closer.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” I shriek.

Nico’s eyes narrow.

“That’s how you want to play?” When he doesn’t respond, I step closer, forcing words past clenched teeth. “My boy is right in front of me, but if he can’t see that, after everything that’s been said, this week, last night, then my standing here right now is as pointless as ever.”

I step back, my frustration taking the form of moisture and threatening to spill from my eyes with my next blink.

His gaze doesn’t leave mine, following with every foot away, I grow, and hope flares in my chest when he suddenly jerks, dragging himself to the edge of his seat as if he was about to step out, but not a half second later those eyes fall to the ground, and when they pop back up, they’re blank. Cold and void of life.

He doesn’t climb from his truck, but slams the door, blocking himself off from me instead.

Left with nothing else to do, I walk off, hooking right to take the long way around when I spot Trent headed for Nico, who has yet to drive away.

Thankfully, all my things are in my locker, so I take a quick shower and prepare for class.

Stupid leadership means I can’t get away from my thoughts, but instead I’m forced to the same place it all imploded last night.

I have to sweep in with the rest of my classmates and clean up what’s left of the mess now that all the vehicles and personal items have been moved or picked up. The only way we get to keep going with these types of traditions is if we leave shit how we find it.

There are about fifteen of us in total, so we’re all on the field cleaning the left-over garbage and taking down all the banners and balloons we had hung up yesterday morning. I don’t know who came back and cleaned up all our shit, because it wasn’t me, but there’s no sign of spilled enchiladas and our table and everything else is gone.