The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 243: Chapter 243 - This Was Their Moment

Briarwick ran through the tunnel and onto the blue floor.

The lights struck Roxie so hard that the crowd disappeared for half a second. All she could see was the mat beneath her shoes, the judges seated ahead, and flashes of red and black as the team spread into position around her.

Then the noise returned.

The Briarwick section was already standing. Mason had both hands around his mouth, shouting before they had even reached their places. Dylan stood beside him, clapping above his head. Kyle still had his arms crossed, but even he was yelling something Roxie could not hear.

Zac was at the front railing.

His eyes found her immediately.

Roxie looked away before he could make her feel anything else. She craved the reassurance he gave her with one look, but right now he was a distraction she could not afford. She needed her head inside the routine, focused on her counts, her team, and the floor beneath her.

She reached her opening mark and lowered into position.

Karen settled behind her while Angela moved to the left. Across the formation, Kendall reached her own place and lifted one eyebrow at Roxie, like she was waiting to see which captain would make the first mistake.

Roxie smiled at her.

Bitch.

The arena quieted.

The opening voice came through the speakers.

The music hit.

Briarwick moved.

Their arms snapped into place at the same time. Their heads turned together, and the formation opened as Roxie crossed through the center with Kendall moving from the opposite side.

Roxie hit the next movement harder.

Kendall did the same.

Neither of them was going to let the other look sharper.

The crowd reacted, but Roxie barely heard it.

Five, six, seven, eight.

The team dipped and jumped together. Their legs opened high before their shoes struck the floor in one heavy landing.

Roxie lifted her chest and moved straight into the next formation.

Karen ran across the mat and flipped through the air. Angela followed from the other side. One girl after another crossed the floor, turning and landing cleanly while the rest of Briarwick moved around them without leaving an empty space.

Every landing hit.

Every girl reached her place.

Roxie’s heart thudded while she moved through the routine, fighting the urge to look around and check everyone herself. She had to trust them. She had to believe Karen would land, Angela would reach her position, and every girl behind her would remember the counts they had practiced until their bodies hurt.

The routine kept moving before the crowd could settle.

Roxie reached her stunt group as the final tumbler landed. She looked at Karen and mouthed the numbers while Karen stepped into their hands.

The bases lowered together.

Up.

They lifted Karen above them.

Across the floor, every stunt rose at the same time.

The crowd grew louder.

Roxie locked her arms and kept her eyes where they belonged. Karen shifted into the next position above their heads while her weight pressed through Roxie’s shoulders.

Roxie’s muscles tightened.

Hold.

Change.

Down.

Karen dropped safely into their arms, and the other flyers came down with her.

Roxie’s heart slammed against her ribs.

They were doing it.

The team moved before the applause finished. The music changed into the faster section, and Briarwick spread across the floor.

Roxie reached the front as Kendall came toward her from the opposite side. They hit the same movements at each other, sharp enough that it felt like another fight, then turned away on the same count.

The bases moved behind them.

Roxie felt hands lock around her shoe and ankle. She dipped through one shoulder, threw herself backward, and trusted the girls beneath her to carry her weight.

They caught her.

A second later, she was rising.

Roxie locked her standing leg as the bases pushed her above their heads. She pulled her other foot upward and held it beside her head in a heel stretch.

Across the floor, Kendall hit the same position.

Their eyes met.

They needed to hold for eight counts while the remaining stunt groups moved into place.

Roxie fixed her smile toward the crowd, though every muscle in her standing leg was fighting to keep her steady. They had practiced this section for a month, but practice suddenly felt far away beneath the state lights.

Everything depended on balance.

One shift of her hips could pull the bases with her.

One weak ankle could destroy the entire picture.

Five, six, seven, eight.

The other flyers rose behind them, forming a wide V across the floor. They reached their heel stretches, held them, then switched legs together.

The crowd roared.

The sound went straight through Roxie’s chest.

This was one of the hardest parts of their routine, and they were hitting every count.

The bases dipped beneath her.

Roxie released her position and felt herself thrown upward. She snapped her hips and spun through a full circle in the air. For one breath, there was nothing beneath her.

Then the bases caught her securely.

The crowd screamed louder.

Roxie barely had time to register the catch before her shoes touched the floor and she was moving again.

Everyone reached the next formation.

Karen was smiling now. Angela’s fear had disappeared beneath the lights. Even the freshmen looked more relaxed, their movements stronger as they realized how cleanly the routine was going.

That made Roxie more nervous.

They were getting closer.

Every clean section gave them more to lose.

The team tumbled into the next positions, and Roxie followed the movement of the formation until she reached the center of her stunt group.

She dipped and stepped onto the hands of two bases.

Karen moved in front of her, her eyes hard with concentration as they locked hands. Their grip tightened until Roxie could feel Karen’s fingers pressing into hers.

Roxie mouthed the final counts.

Seven, eight.

The bases pushed.

Roxie drove forward into a blind flip, pulling her body into a tight rotation while the floor disappeared beneath her. She could not see the hands waiting for her. She could only trust that they would be there.

Her feet landed squarely in the cupped palms of her bases.

They caught her without a shake.

Before Roxie could breathe, the bases drove her upward and locked their arms. She rose above them and struck the position at the top, holding her body rigid beneath the lights.

The edge of her shoe dug painfully into her leg.

Roxie did not care.

The crowd was roaring.

The judges were watching.

Briarwick was still clean.

She held for the count, then twisted into a sharp full spin and dropped smoothly into the waiting cradle below.

Her teammates caught her.

Roxie hit the floor and moved straight into the next count, her lungs burning as the routine carried them forward.

She could hear the team breathing now beneath the music. Short, heavy breaths forced through smiles. Quiet counts slipped between clenched teeth as they moved into position.

No one was slowing.

No one was breaking.

Roxie glanced toward Kendall as they crossed the formation.

Kendall looked back.

They both knew what came next.

The final pyramid.

The hardest part of the routine.

The section Coach Miller had refused to remove even after several practices ended with girls crying from exhaustion and frustration. It needed every group to rise at the correct time, every grip to hold, and every flyer to trust the people beneath her.

This would make them or destroy them.

Roxie moved into position as the girls gathered around her. Her chest tightened, but she kept the smile on her face while the bases lowered and the flyers stepped forward.

One count.

Two.

Roxie set her feet and reached for the next grip.

The music stopped.

Her body nearly faltered.

The arena fell into a silence so sudden that Roxie heard the scrape of shoes against the mat, the harsh breathing behind everyone’s smiles, and the unfinished count caught in Angela’s throat.

The music was gone.