Chapter 7 ~ Mystery

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I can't do this

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I can't do this.

I just can't. It's too hard.

I keep thinking about my mom.

What happens if my dad finds out?

I feel like I'm back in Illinois before I was put into care. Getting home from a cheer competition with my momma.

"Where have you been?" His voice booms through the front room, my sister cowers behind us.

"Sorry, hun I was just at Atlas' cheer competition." My mom shuts the door with shaky hands then wraps her arms around me and my sister pulling us back towards us. I can smell her rosey perfume as her blonde hair droops down onto us.

"Well, you shouldn't be going out. I don't give a fuck about her cheerleading shit!" His voice raises, throwing a plate at the wall beside us. The defining smash makes my sister cry.

"Dad don't please, it was my fault we were out." I plead, playing with the medal around my neck. He nears my face, crouching down to my twelve-year-old face. He grabs my hair and swings me into the wall. My mom pleads behind me as my sister screams.

"Cheer about this." He snarls throwing a fist up towards my face.

Even though I stopped dancing, I didn't stop cheer. When I was adopted I found a squad here and did it for a year but that seemed to rile up my adoptive parents. They hated it.

My adoptive dad would scream about how Jenny used to do cheerleading and I was reminding them too much of the painful loss of their daughter. The beatings got so bad I just quit and it became a miserable memory. If they find out I'm starting up again... I don't even want to imagine what they're reactions would be.

Grabbing my bag I go to flee, my hearts racing at one hundred miles an hour and my eyes sting with unleashed tears.

I'll just text Vixxie and tell her I was ill. She smashed her try-out earlier, I was watching from the stands with the other girls, there's no way she won't get a place. She can pick up the routine quickly and you wouldn't believe she hadn't had experience in any kind of dance, her movements were so fluid and precise.

I fling open the changing room doors and sprint out into the corridor only to smash straight into something hard.

Ouch, that fricking hurt.

I can feel myself falling and no doubt will end up on my ass again but then I realise I haven't actually hit the ground yet. I open my scrunched eyes, Blaze's devilish smile is staring down at me.

"We should really stop meeting like this Blondie." He says, his hand still wrapped around my back, keeping me steady.

I stumble away from his grip, my cheeks heating in embarrassment.

Why? Why do I keep doing this to myself?!

Blaze stays in front of me, clad in his football gear, helmet tucked under his arm which with the added shoulder pads make the tatted masterpieces look even bigger than they are.

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