BECAUSE A CERTAIN blonde-haired dance captain had assigned me homework to binge watch at least three "Bring It On" movies before game night, I knew what I was expecting when I ran onto the brightly lit lacrosse field. She'd also ordered me to pay attention to how proper cheerleaders looked when cheering on their teams, because apparently my facial expressions were more suited for a calculus exam or a funeral.

So I pasted on the brightest smile I could muster as I followed the rest of the dancers between the stands that were jam packed with students and parents adorned in vogue red and black outfits. I followed their lead, prancing around shouting like the cheerleaders we weren't and waving our arms trying to pump up our school.

Across the field, girls were dressed in sparkly navy and white spandex dresses. I nearly burst out laughing when I noticed the blue and white pompoms in their hands. They were also doing their best to drown out our school's cheering with that of their own, the Oceanview Prep Spartans.

Neither of the teams were on the field yet. In a few moments, Aurora and Violet would take to the podium at the side of the field to announce each player as they descended onto the field. Although we'd never rehearsed it, each player would be lead out by a dancer. I'd coincidently forgotten about this until this moment so as to not psych myself out.

On cue, Violet called us over to the side of the field, giving the Spartans the opportunity to take to the field for their cheer to introduce their own team.

Once we were all huddled around the dark haired girl, she produced a small drawstring bag. "Okay, girls. Pick a number and get your asses back there. The minute the Spartans finish up, Aurora and I will start calling the players out. Find your match and kill it when you come out. Got it?"

We each nodded and one by one shoved our hands into the drawstring bag for our numbers. I didn't bother to look at mine until everyone else had gotten theirs. As we were making our way quickly behind the stands to the field house, I unfolded my piece of paper.

On it was an elegant thirteen written in a bold red sharpie.

Oh shit.

I followed the rest of the team through the small field house door, immediately overwhelming my ears with the sounds of shouts and catcalls that reverberated off of the walls when the lacrosse players noticed us arrive in our skimpy uniforms. Unsurprisingly, my nose was assaulted by the smell of sweat and too many body sprays to be even half decent.

I kept myself tucked in behind another dancer, Juliette, as the players started calling out numbers one by one, heading out with their dancer to line up for their entrance. When one of the younger players called out Juliette's number she scampered off to meet with him, and I was left exposed.

Not that I was hiding or anything.

I bristled when a familiar accented voice called out his number. "Seven."

Another sigh of relief escaped my lungs as I avoided certain disaster. After the photo Kamilah had sent me, the last thing I needed was to lead Noah out onto the field in front of the entire student body, which included my best friend. But I'd barely reopened my eyes when a tall dark haired girl sashayed past me, intentionally making contact with my shoulder and knocking my body forward awkwardly.

"Oops," Kamilah smirked, shooting me a wink before making her way to Noah's side.

"Can you not be a bitch for one minute, Kamilah?" I blurted, earning looks from the few dancers and players who were still lingering in the field house despite the coach hackling us to get a move on.

Kamilah opened her mouth for a retort, but a familiar deep voice interrupted, calling out my number from somewhere behind me.

I blanched, the blood in my face draining faster than I could spin around to take in my partner.

I hadn't spoken to Declan Morgan since that rueful night at the condo when I awoke from my substance-induced nightmare in his arms. The same night he hit me, when he was aiming for Noah after his sister had exposed our drunken antics.

My temple twinged at the memory, but I showed no signs of it.

As Declan slammed his locker shut and picked up his helmet and stick, I couldn't stop myself from noticing just how good he looked in his crimson jersey and black athletic shorts. Padding made him appear wider and more intimidating than he usually did in his uniform, and for once in my time here, I found myself shrinking back slightly as he neared me.

It must have been noticeable, because a warm hand fell into place around my wrist. I took a moment to revel in it; the subtle reminder that I was safe, that nobody would hurt me here. I didn't worry about anybody witnessing the contact as the rest of the team and dancers were already outside in position.

I allowed my gaze to find Declan's liquid honey eyes. His expression was hard, cool, and unreadable, much like it always seemed to be. But his eyes didn't meet mine. Instead, I realized, they remained fixed on where Noah's hand almost held mine.

Don't hold his hand, that annoying inner voice chanted. I ignored it.

Kamilah broke the silence. "I hate to interrupt whatever silent territorial dispute you both have over Freak Show over there, mostly since I don't see why the fuck you two are so obsessed with her, but I'd like to actually dance tonight."

I rolled my eyes and turned to face Noah, not letting his hand fall away. "It's fine," I smiled halfheartedly. "Good luck out there."

His blue eyes narrowed from where they were on Declan to down on me, his features softening as he realized I meant it. "You too, love. Don't sweat it," he reassured me, well aware of how nervous I was for my routine. His lips tugged into a lazy smile that had my heart skipping a beat as he tucked his helmet and stick under his arm. Not showing a care for our wicked audience, he pressed a light kiss on the corner of my mouth.

I'm pretty sure I was wearing the stupidest smile on my face when he pulled away.

He started to back away, his eyes on mine, until they slid over my shoulder and locked on Declan, standing not two feet behind me. "Don't fucking play games with her, Dec. I swear," he shot, his finger pointing down his now apparent former friend.

Before either testosterone fuelled male could grind out another comment, Kamilah grabbed ahold of Noah's arm and dragged him out of the field house, cursing up a storm.

"Your boyfriend is rather clingy, wouldn't you say?" Declan chuckled humorlessly from behind me.

"He's not my boyfriend," I replied curtly as I headed for the door.

I didn't quite make it three feet before Declan had his large hand wrapped around my bicep. I beat down the urge to flinch away from his touch.

"We need to talk, Scarlett."

I refused to look back at him, for fear of making any sort of eye contact with the golden eyed devil. Instead, I shook off his hand.

He let it fall.

"I don't think so. I have a dance routine to get through and you have a lacrosse game. Come on."

This time when I walked away, he followed me out the door and we headed quickly towards the field where I could hear Aurora begin the roll call. When we were only a few feet away from the lineup of players and dancers, I whirled around, successfully assaulting an unsuspecting Declan with my long curls. "I don't know why you suddenly want to talk, because we are not friends. But if you really want, you have exactly one minute before we have to go out there. So talk."

He wasted the first fifteen seconds of his allotted time staring down at me with unreadable eyes. Finally, he spoke, dumping a bucket of ice water into my veins with his sudden shift in attitude. "You're right. We're not friends. Forget about it," he said coolly, brushing past me to move for the line.

I made a sound, something between a growl and a screech, as I whirled to follow Declan. "You're fucking bipolar, you know that, right?!"

"And you've got PTSD. What's your point?" He grunted.

I swore I saw red in that moment, and not because I was standing in a sea of red clad dancers and lacrosse players.

"Fuck you, Morgan," I spat, stalking off to take my place in line. I had stopped caring if Declan bothered to follow me by this point in time.

I couldn't wait for this stupid game to be over.

As it would turn out, I didn't actually hate the stupid lacrosse game as much as I had predicted I would.

Once the helmets were on and all that could be seen was a swarm of red and blue numbered jerseys chasing each other around the field, I found myself forgetting the people that were on the field and falling into the adrenaline rush and the excitement of the cheering students.

By the end of the second quarter our team was ahead with three goals, the Spartans managing to score only once. Of course, two of our goals had been scored by dumbass Declan, who I quickly learned was both co-captain and official star of the freaking team.

When the whistle blew to signal halftime, or whatever it was called, Aurora jumped into action.

"Okay, girls! Let's show that Oceanview pom-pom squad what we're made of!" Aurora yelled, clapping her hands and waving us onto the now deserted field.

We strutted onto the field in a line, taking our places in an assembly of unmoving bodies at center field. Our heads were down and our backs turned as we were introduced to the audience of chattering students and parents in the stands. A chorus of catcalls and whistles erupted from behind us.

Of course, the lacrosse team had opted to spend their break on the bench rather than go back to the field house.

Before I could stress myself out over the sheer number of people I was about to dance in front of, the first chords of Blow Your Mind started blasting from the sound system.

One by one, our line of dancers raised our heads, turning to face the stands filled with red and black. As the music flowed from the speakers, I fell into a trance. My feet moved, I hit my marks and I pasted a smile on my face. But the crushing anxiety I had felt about getting the steps right or messing up in front of the entire student body had evaporated the moment the beat dropped.

By the time the music had transitioned to the second chorus, I had barely noticed the time pass. As the team split down the middle, a certain dark haired demon-spawn pranced her way to the front of us and began her solo while the rest of us stood frozen in our assigned poses.

While I had spent the last month watching Kamilah showcase her extensive dance and acrobatic skills, I still marvelled in the way she could throw and twist her body around in the air like she was weightless. While I had talent and lightweight on my side, I was no match for her years of practice and training.

As her solo came to and end, the she-devil took a running start, launching herself from a round off into two flawless back handsprings, and finishing with a tuck before pumping her fist into the air and flashing a megawatt smile.

The crowd cheered and the music shifted, slowing into the bridge.

I didn't give myself a moment to hesitate before letting my body move in ways I had spent weeks perfecting. I put every ounce of my frustrations and fears into moving seamlessly to the music pumping out of the speakers.

My body knew what it was doing before I even registered that the bridge was coming to a close, and I took my running start.

My favorite part about tumbling was the feeling that I was flying. And fuelled by my emotions over the last week, that was exactly what I did.

With my mind clear and focused, I launched into a pass that Aurora had painstakingly taught me. I started off with a simple round off, before flipping through two back-handsprings and launching into an Arabian-- something which up until a few weeks ago, I thought was only a horse.

The entire time, I never felt my feet touch the grass.

When both of my feet hit the ground as I came out of my Arabian, a sharp ache worked its way through my leg where I knew the metal rod was. But I refused to show weakness, instead proceeding to blow a kiss to the crowd.

A kiss that certainly wasn't meant to be blown directly in front of the only two lacrosse players I knew by name.

Before I could turn as red as my uniform from the awkwardness of it, I was swept away by the music as we finished our routine with a flourish. The crowd roared, particularly the thirteen boys crowded on the bench on the sidelines of the field.

A grin broke out on my face, and I started clapping and cheering along with the rest of my team. I could feel the steady stream of adrenaline still pumping through my veins, my heart pounding a mile a minute against my ribcage.

My gaze locked with a pair of ocean blues on the sidelines as Noah flashed me a grin, and my smile brightened even more, if that was possible.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

I spent the rest of the game on a high, cheering for our boys and dancing around on the sidelines when they played music thorough the loudspeaker between whistles. By the end of the third quarter we were well ahead with a score of seven to three, and even I could see the players were letting themselves have fun on the field. They started making elaborate moves, showing off their skill sets and overall showing Oveanview Prep they had never stood a chance.

What surprised me the most when I really focused was how well the team worked together, particularly the two co-captains. I knew for a fact now that the bad blood between Noah and Declan boiled hotter than the fiery pits of hell I would become well acquainted with when I murdered Kamilah in the not-so-distant future. But despite their new found dislike of each other, together they were responsible for three goals each. The moment they stepped on the field they became teammates, a quality I could only wish was present on our dance team.

But Kamilah was far too petty to even fake comradery on the field, as evidenced by her not so subtle attempts at making me fall flat on my face when we retreated back to the sidelines. Or the time she stepped in my way during a double back handspring, causing me to check my weight and fall out of the tumble hard on my bad leg.

Aurora colourfully chewed her out for that one while we awaited the last quarter to begin.

The last quarter came and went without much eventfulness. We finished off the game with a nine to three win over the Spartans. When the final whistle blew, our dance team poured onto the field cheering as the other team sulked off to the side. While the crowd roared for our first home game win of the year from the stands, the athletes on the field made their rounds hugging and patting each other on the back.

Apparently one of players made the mistake of trying to cop a feel while celebrating with Violet, to which she responded with some rather colorful expletives and a well placed slap on the face. Other girls didn't seem to mind as much, lapping up the attention like a pack of thirsty, overbred chihuahuas.

I, on the other hand, avoided all of the male species on the field, retreating to the side when things got too confining. The party I had been roped into attending tonight with Aimee and the rest of the girls would test my anxiety enough, and the last thing I needed was to get wrapped up in a crowd of a dozen sweaty, overexcited boys.

"Red!" I heard Aimee call out, turning to see her and Meghan descending from the stands. Both redheads were decked out in designer jeans and Summer Grove hoodies, sporting matching grins.

The second they were within three feet of me, I was tackled in a crimson colored hug. "Omigod, Red, that was amazing! You crushed it out there!"

I laughed, hugging her and Meghan in return. Whether Meghan was grinning and hugging me to keep up appearances or because she was actually proud of me, I wasn't sure, but I wasn't complaining.

Can you really blame a girl for wanting the best of both worlds?

"Thanks Aims, it went well didn't it?" I smiled, pulling away after another moment of being smothered by the sisters.

Someone else popped into the conversation then, jumping in beside me and wrapping her thin arms around my neck. "Well? Are you kidding me? You looked absolutely amazing out there Scarlett! I couldn't be more proud if I'd done it myself!" Aurora sang, finishing with a musical laugh.

Just a month ago, her confining grip around my neck would've set me on the defensive. Now I relaxed into it, laughing along with my best friends.

Too bad you're going to throw all of this away for some boy you barely know.

I told the voice in my head to shut up, but the words kept bouncing around in my head while I laughed and talked about the game with my friends.

I didn't want to believe it. But that annoying art of me kept telling me it was true, that I was going to be forced to make a choice I didn't want to make. A choice between my friends who stood by me and helped me fit into my life and the boy who let me just be me.

I couldn't help but think about how that boy wasn't the same one from the story Aimee had told me. How could the Noah I knew be the same one who cheated on his girlfriend with his best friend's sister? The same Noah who helped me through the hardest night of my new life. The Noah who saw through my smiling facade and accepted me for the twisted, damaged person I was?

As I looked at my friends, laughing and smiling on the sidelines of the lacrosse field, I realized my time was running out on my double life. Tonight was the party, the last day of my so-called double life.

Tomorrow I would either lose all of my friends who had helped me come so far, or the boy who I could be myself with.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Violet snapped her perfectly red manicured fingers in front of my face. "Earth to, Scarlett? What's goin' on in that witty brain of yours?" She laughed, obviously referring to my brilliant speech I'd given Kamilah just before the game.

I put on a well rehearsed smile and shrugged.

"Just thinking about the party tonight," I lied breezily. "You guys ready to go? 'Cause I am dying to get out of this outfit and get my mandatory social interaction out of the way."

I wasn't lying, exactly.

The four of them nodded and together, we linked arms and strutted our way back to the locker room.

Once Violet, Aurora and I had changed, we piled into our separate cars and made our way to Aurora's house where we proceeded to take over her bedroom suite and adjoining bathroom.

The party was set to start in an hour. When we had arrived, Aurora had given us each a list of things we needed to help set up beforehand. Aimee was in charge of having the drinks set up at the bar in the kitchen. Violet would make sure the kitchen counters and various tables were supplied with snacks and pizza delivered earlier by a caterer. Meghan had full control of the playlist, which she announced she'd spent a good three hours constructing, and was to make sure the DJ, a local rising star, arrived on time. Aurora was managing the attendees and filling in her family's security guards which areas of the sprawling estate they were in charge of keeping off limits. Which left me with making sure the precisely decorated rooms of the house had been set up according to Aurora's instructions.

While the others were off doing their chores, I took to inspecting the kitchen, living room areas and backyard. Aurora had given me descriptions of the theme, which celebrated Summer Grove's first big lacrosse win. Each area was to be dimly lit, adorned in red and black balloons and streamers and to have banner having something to do with the win. Let's just say I tuned out after the word "theme".

After the house was ready to go, we were left with forty minutes to get ready. On the bright side, three of us already had our makeup perfectly applied- Aurora was overjoyed to see I hadn't ruined her masterpiece, despite the overwhelming urge I had to rub at my eye. Which only left Aimee and Meghan to fuss over their faces while Violet and Aurora tried to detangle my mess of curls.

"How do you even get a brush through this stuff, Scarlett?" Violet, who was already dressed in a grey skater dress and bright red heels, her long black hair pulled back tightly in neat braids and big curls, gritted as she sprayed yet another coat of detangler into my hair.

I shrugged, which didn't help their cause. "It's usually easier when it's straighter. But somebody insisted it be curled for the game."

Aurora made a show of rolling her eyes. She too was already dressed in a baby pink princess dress and white wedge heels. "You would try to blame me. I swear, I've never met a girl so apposed to style, Scarlett."

I gave her a sickly sweet grin in the mirror. "I keep telling you I'm one of a kind."

Aimee burst out laughing from her spot in front of the floor length mirror, where she was making a last minute decision between a slinky blue number and an emerald green wrap dress. "Thank god. I don't think we could handle more than one of you, Red."

I lobbed a makeup sponge in her direction, but she dodged it easily, despite the four inch black stilettos on her feet.

"To prove a point, Aimee, I think you should go with the green one. It brings out your eyes," I said matter-of-factly. Truthfully, it took every fibre of my memory to retain just that one snippet of information from the many fashion lessons Aimee had given me.

The room was silent for a moment, until one vt one my friends joined in on a slow clap.

I rolled my eyes, taking advantage of the fact Aurora and Violet had put down their brushes to escape from my chair. "You guys suck," I muttered, rummaging around in my bag for the dress I'd been talked into buying last week.

While the four girls erupted in fits of incredibly harmonious giggles, I took the opportunity to change. For once, I had picked out my own dress, despite Meghan and Aimee's suggestions and opinions. I had opted for a simple black v-neck silk dress with lace across the chest. By far, it was the single most revealing outfit I had ever worn, but I felt comfortable in it. Despite the fact it looked more like lingerie than a dress, it wasn't tight or skimpy. It was just me.

What wasn't very me were the four inch black, red-soled stiletto heals I had been given to wear with it. If I didn't have a panic attack tonight, I was surely going to trip and break my neck in those death traps.

As I was finishing struggling to put on my teardrop necklace, a knock sounded on the door.

"Just a sec!" I called, finally hooking together the clasp of my necklace before shuffling over to the door.

On the other side was Meghan, who had since finished getting dolled up in a red lace bodycon and nude pumps. She offered me a smile; not her typical megawatt Meghan smile, but still friendly enough to be contagious. "You look great, Scarlett."

I breathed a laugh. "Thanks," I smiled back, before leaning forward to check out how the rest of the girls were coming.

She followed my gaze. "I just wanted to make sure you were getting along okay. It's ten o'clock, the rest of them headed downstairs."

As if to serve her point, the obnoxiously loud chime of the doorbell resonated through the house.

"Oh god," I muttered, suddenly realizing what was about to happen.

Unfortunately, I didn't know the half of it.

Finally, I have returned with another update. And it's another long one!

I'd love it if you could vote and comment your favourite part thus far. As a reward, here are a couple gifs of Daniel and Matt (AKA Noah & Declan)! 😘

You're welcome.