Temporarily Mine

17

She has us do the same once they're placed in order.

I'm shuffled around a few times, and in the end, placed in front of Thompson who is at least six-five and has been since freshman year.

He throws his arms over my shoulder. "Wassup, Josephine?"

"Not much. Did you guys know we were pairing?" I glance at Felix who is a few bodies away.

He shakes his head no as Thompson says it.

"We've got a couple bodies not here, Scarlett, just so you know," Coach Park tells her. "I can send you their height if you wanna preplan in just a bit."

"That would be helpful, thanks," she says, moving girls around at the beginning of the line. I'm moved one more time, now placed in front of Carlos, the defensive end.

Scarlett steps back, nodding slowly. "I think this--"

She's cut off when the gym door slams shut and all eyes fly in that direction.

Hero walks in wearing joggers and a hoodie pulled over his head.

He pauses by his coach a moment, saying something no one else can hear. The coach slaps him on the shoulder, pushing him our way.

"Scarlett," Hero mumbles as he walks by, not looking at her.

"I need to pair you, Hero," she says sternly.

He ignores her, stopping in front of me, and his eyes narrow before shifting to Carlos.

There's a light shuffle, and then Hero slips in, his chest pushing against my back in the next second.

I inhale, slightly annoyed he thinks he can walk in here and take control, especially after no word for three days.

My eyes move back to Scarlett.

She won't allow him to mess up the flow or visual of the performance, even if he does think he's privileged.

Hero pushes even closer. "I'm paired."

I tense, waiting for her to set him straight as she would us, but Scarlett only frowns, staring a moment longer before she snaps out of it and places one of the JV girls with Carlos. "Let me grab my phone so I can go over this later to be sure, but it's looking good."

When she comes back, she starts taking pictures, moving a few people over with each shot until she's happy with what she sees.

"Okay boys, when I say one, place your hands on your partner's upper ribs here." She indicates to a few inches below our breasts, continuing to show them what she means as she says, "On two, slide them down to the hips, on three, hold, and on four, she will jump as you lift. On five, her feet should be on the ground, your hands at your sides. Girls, by six, I want you laid out.

"This is just a quick, off the top try and not necessarily what we'll be doing for the routine. I want to see how clean it looks height-wise." She repeats the counts and moves once more, then pulls her phone back out, clipping it to the tripod. "Go ahead and grab on now."

Heavy, strong hands plant on my ribs, and I straighten my spine, getting ready. When I do, his hands slide up, now brushing against the edge of my sports bra.

I glare straight ahead. If he still wants to keep this fakeness up, he needs to understand that it doesn't come before or between dance, and that what my coach says goes. Yes, this is only my school team and not my competition team, but still. I'm on the front line for a reason and his power trip isn't getting in the way of the gold stamp that this puts on my college applications.

"Josephine," Scarlett barks and my head jerks her way. "Sass, not anger."

I clear my throat, quickly putting my game face on.