Cold Game

14. You've been warned

It had been ten minutes since he stormed out of Chloe's presence in search of Brie and it seemed to him like Brie did not want to be found.
Mainly because he had gone to all her favorite hangout spots, and had still not found her.

He had almost given up on his search when, as luck may have it, he spotted Zeralda making out with J.T Forbes in the crowded school hallway.

He was surprised, well, a little surprised. After all, this was the lifestyle of the popular kids. He had thought that J.T was Trisha's boyfriend, but here he was making out with one of Trisha's closest friends. Guess Trish was not enough for him, after all.

Well, after counting ten sheep, he gently interrupted their feisty lip battle, and none of them are pleased with him. The lightening-like flash in J.T's grey eyes and the rude snort from Zeralda was enough proof of that!

"Brie is at the gym. Cheer-leader practice," Zeralda had told him matter-of-factly, before returning to her steamy mouth war with J.T.

Slinging the red, see-through, glass doors that led to the gymnasium, he walked with curt attitude and quick strides into the red and blue themed room, picking a seat on the top bleachers.
The angry expression on his face does not wear off, even though Brie and the rest of the cheerleaders were doing a great choreography practice. One that should lighten anyone's mood.

Well, anyone but him.

He was not in a bad mood, but rather, in an awful mood.

"Go ahead and take five everyone!!" Brie announced once she got tired of pretending not to notice him walk in.

The rest of the cheer-leaders scrambled to various directions, but a pissed Marisol Caleb, the captain of the cheerleading team, approached her.Her brown, doe eyes flared, and her small oval face, scrunched up and red-colored.

Flipping her wavy brown hair away from her face, she prodded Brie in the shoulder and said something that seemed like: "You really need to stop doing this, Brie. You are not team captain, you know!!"

Brie, who was as rude as the definition of the word rude, snorted and replied: "You and I know that the only reason you are team captain is cause I was not interested at that time. But all the same, you are nothing but a figurehead," she sashayed away, not minding that Marisol's eyes were boring a hole through her back. Her red and blue Nike converses creating a distincting tune as her feet kissed the shiny, newly-waxed floor of the gymnasium.

She walked up to the bleachers, takes a seat right next to him, and gently placed a few stubborn strands of her hair behind her ears.
Straightens out her extra-short blue and red striped flare skirt-that was only covering half of her lap - then, lets out a sexy (to her) and croaky (to Ivor) sigh.

It's showtime she said to herself, grinning from ear to ear, her eyes fluttering dramatically, and her irises fixed on Ivor.

"Hey, Ivor!" her annoying, pseudo-angelic voice rang.

"So, did you like our routine?" She questioned, her index finger gingerly moving up and down his lap in a weird manner.

Icky for Ivor, but normal, fun and seductive for her.

"Would you stop?" he outburst, pushing her hands away and earning curious stares from the gossiping cheerleaders in the gymnasium.

She released a shaky laughter and tried again. This time, she placed her perfectly manicured peach-polished nails on his shoulders like she was carrying out a massage.

"What's with you, Ivor? Why are you so grumpy?" she asked feigning innocence, her eyes fixed on Zerena and Trisha, who were giving her thumbs-ups and 'carry-on' nods.