My Dirty Little Secret

Chapter Twenty Eight

Brooke's POV

I was walking down the hall Monday afteroon with Liliana and a couple of other teachers when I saw Chelsea speed walking down the hall towards me. That was when I was faced with a new predicament. How was I supposed to act towards her around my coworkers? I didn't want to let on, but I didn't want to completely blow her off. That was alright though, because she made the decision for me.

"Br--" she began, then realized where she was, and who was around, and for a split second a look of sheer panic came across her face before it melted into a calm, knowing smile. "Briefly," she said, immediately covering up, "I have to finish a test before cheer. I don't want to be late, but that's where I'll be."

I don't know how wide my eyes were or how panicked I looked, but my heartbeat was faster than it usually was around her from our almost crisis. I somehow managed an, "Okay, that's fine," before letting her go and walking away.

"I thought that girl was about to call you Brooke," one of the other teachers laughed after we'd gotten enough distance.

"Yeah," I said, forcing myself to laugh along though that had been way too close. "So did I."

____

Whatever test it was, it turned out to be some test, for Chelsea was at least fifteen minutes late to practice.

"Where's Chelsea?" somebody asked. "She usually leads stretches."

"I saw her near the front door a few minutes ago," Tiffany Medlock said, sounding more gossipy than factual. 

"She's finishing a test," I said, diffusing rumors before they began. "Someone else can lead if you want, or you can just stretch on your own."

"I'll lead," Tiffany offered quickly, met by no apparent objections. "I led stretches when I was JV captain."

"Cool," I said indifferently as I sat on the bleachers, a little bit down because watching Chelsea stretch had been one of my personal pleasures for quite some time now. "Thanks, Tiffany."

"Is she going to stunt?" she asked, leaning into a side stretch.

"Mhm," I said, knowing full well that if she didn't, we didn't have a halftime routine.

"That's good," she said brightly. "The way she was walking today, I wasn't so sure."

I didn't know what that meant. As far as I knew, Chelsea was fine. Had I just not noticed? 

"What do you mean?" I asked, letting curiosity and nervousness take over.

"She's just keeping weight off of that ankle, it looks like," Tiffany said. "She said she wants to cheer no matter what though, even if it gets worse. At least that's what she told me this morning."

I didn't really know what to believe. I wanted to inform her that I'd been with Chelsea this weekend, and she'd done a lot more than walk, but obviously that wasn't an option. And maybe she was right. Was Chelsea just acting like the ankle was okay around me, so I wouldn't worry and she could cheer? That was something I could see. She always wanted to be strong, never to be vulnerable, to need help.

"I think she's okay," I settled on. "But I'll make sure before I put her up."

I turned my attention back to my phone while they stretched, because for the first time in a long time, I was texting Kate. I didn't think it was a problem, although, given, detecting problems before they arose had never been my strong suit. Kate being the exemplum of that. 

But the relationship we had now was different. She was taking the whole "friends" thing better than I'd ever expected, things between us being remarkably similar, minus the sex and the flowers. The fact that we were able to slide into a friendship satiated my fears that the whole relationship had been a mistake. We had to have been close if we had been comfortable enough before, that after they ended, we were comfortable still. 

Chelsea finally walked into practice when the girls had just about finished. "Sorry," she said immediately as she came through the gym door.

"That's alright," I said, putting my phone away to actually do stuff. "Why don't you just stretch a little," I suggested, then slowly added, "Briefly."

She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing as she grabbed the bottom of her calf to stretch her quads. "Okay," was all she said, rolling her eyes. 

"Are you okay to stunt today?" I asked, trying to rule out the idea altogether. Frankly, the prospect of having another top girl was downright frightening to me. Although I'd never admit it to anyone, none of the other girls had half the talent.

"Yeah," she said, looking confused, probably because we'd been over this a thousand times since the game Friday. "Why?"

"Just making sure you're not hurt," I said, not wanting to throw Tiffany under the bus if she'd been mistaken. 

"I'm fine," she said, slipping into a right heel stretch which only illustrated her point. If she was doing this to prove it to me, she sure was going to great lengths.

"Okay," I said, given enough evidence to move forward. "Let's get the mats." 

_____

About an hour later, I had Chelsea in a three base half, in a scorpion, then in a heel stretch. All hands on her right ankle. I was left with no choice but to believe that she was okay. The pain would be way too much at this point if she wasn't. 

To my surprise, Liliana came into the gym during that particular stunt. I knew that cheerleading bored the hell out of her, and considering school had ended over an hour ago, her presence was perplexing, to say the least. 

Because I didn't know what she was up to, I didn't run the risk of asking her in front of students. I decided to rely on my minimal capacity for Spanish, and asked her "Que haces aca?" -- "What are you doing here?"

"Queria verles a ti y tu chica," she said, nodding at Chelsea, still referring to her as "my girl," even in a different language. She'd said, "I wanted to see you and your girl," but obviously, she'd been kidding.

"Funny," I said. "Que quieres de verdad?" -- "What do you really want?"

She came closer to me, and started talking in a more quiet voice. "Vine para contarte que tienen que tener cuidado. Ella casi te llamo Brooke esta tarde, y a la mierda con esas sonrisas como no fue importante, si ustedes no mantengan el secreto mejor alguien va a averiguar, y---"

"Wait, wait, wait, Liliana, I'm white. Slow down."

She began to whisper in English, realizing my limitations. "She almost called you 'Brooke' today. You guys are way too obvious."

I sighed. I probably shouldn't have been talking about it, but the girls were busy with their stunt anyway. "It was an accident," I said quietly. "It won't happen again."

"You better hope not, Brooke," she said. "You are way too sensitive for prison. They'll eat you alive."

I laughed despite the scary reality in her words. "No way," I said. "They fear lesbians in women's prison. I'll be the alpha in there."

"Will you shut up?" she said, even though she'd begun to laugh. "You can't even watch Chicago without crying."

I thought about it for a few moments, in which I actually tried to picture myself in prison. I would probably last about five minutes. "Point taken," I said. "I'll stay out of prison."

"You better," she said. "And tell your jail bait, too."

I crossed my arms. "She has a name, you know."

"Well if you want me to use it in public, Brooke, I'll go right ahead."

"You're right," I said, taking the point. "Go home."

She gave me a two finger salute before turning on her heels to go. "Peace out," she said.

I waved goodbye as I gave my attention back to the team.

"Brooke," she called before she left.

I turned back around to look at her.

"Don't do anything stupid."