"So, you guys looking forward to the state game?" Vixxie asks the uniform-clad football players sat guzzling water on the bleachers. Exhaustion plain as day in their hunched positions. I watch as the sun glints down on their sweaty faces, a trickle of sweat runs down the side of Blaze's face, through his eyebrow, over his white scar and onto his strong jaw. How does someone make sweat look so fricking sexy?

"We're ready to fucking crush them!" Brady shouts jumping to his feet, exhaustion seemingly gone and bangs on his chest like king kong. A few distant cheers are heard behind us from guys further up the bleacher making us laugh.

"Are you nervous?" Carrie asks stretching her hamstring out in front of Ethan who is desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face.

"Nah, Nationals here we come." Blaze nods, winking sly at me getting fellow nods from his teammates as they slap him on the back with grunts of agreement.

I place my right leg on the lowest bleacher and the left out behind me stretching into half elevated splits. I push down stretching out my legs as we all talk about what we're going to do to 'celebrate' after winning- so presumptuous- I smile to myself although I don't doubt the boys won't win, they are the best team in this state hands down.

My smile quickly vanishes as Hannah saunters past with her entourage of followers, all glaring at me. I feel like I'm a fish swimming around in a fishbowl at the moment. Ever since the Hannah incident, I can't even walk the halls without odd stares or the whispering and gossiping. I'm trying to not let it get to me but it's really hard. People think I have some kind of death wish which is ironic.

I look down avoiding her nasty gaze but my vision is drawn to the fading bruises on my legs. I didn't want to do cheer practice at all considering my skin would be on the show but I can't let Hannah think she's hurt me enough to quit, I also owe it to Vixxie and Carrie. Blaze kept telling me he couldn't play as well without his personal cheerleader but we all know he'll just keep playing better and better. However, I can't deny the rush of butterflies it gave me when he said that. I run my fingers across one patch of discoloured skin and frown.

A warm hand lands on top of mine and pulls it away from my skin, Carrie smiles at me as squeezes my fingers, "Ignore her Atty. She's honestly not even worth a single breath." Her eyes are sympathetic but there's an element of fire behind them.

"I know. I don't think I harvest the energy to care anymore." I snort in a jokey way but really it's half true, it's frigging exhausting all the pointless Hannah drama. There are more important things happening in my life that I need to focus on.

"How the fuck are you still in that position?" Brady interrupts my thoughts.

"Hm?" He points at my elevated splits, "Oh... I don't know... flexibility?" I shrug adding a little bounce to my stance.

"I wanna try." He joins me on the floor and I instruct him to move his legs. He does so just about as gracefully as Bambi on ice. Wincing and hissing.

"Holy fuck! This is worse than blue balls!" His face contorts in pain, his legs aren't even straight yet. I giggle, the guys chuckle and shake their heads.

"Your legs aren't even straight yet B!" I try and push up on his knees but he yelps out in pain and the next thing I hear is a loud rip sounding through the air.

"Oh no." His eyes widen.

"Oh no B..." I cover my eyes trying to conceal my giggle.

"Bro... no." Blazes lips turn up too and he shakes his head.

I help B get up off the floor, I snort loudly when he turns around to flash his completely ripped shorts.

"Ah fuck!" He smiles sheepishly. We burst into laughter, even some of the other students stop to look at what's going on but the humour is short-lived when an eardrum bursting whistle cuts through the laughter diverting all our attention to Coach Simpson. He saunters over to us clipboard perched under his right arm, whilst now hanging from his neck. He straightens his baseball cap that makes his menacing eyes look even darker.

He's not a mean coach, not by a long shot, he's actually the best here, cares a lot about the guys and he's funny sometimes but he sure is danm intimidating.

"Right you bunch of daisies, on the field!" He commands. The boys take a final sip of water and shove the bottles back into their bags before breaking into a jog, Blaze taps my arm as he passes sending shocks through my frigging body, I almost drop out of my splits and mentally scold myself for getting yet again, so flustered. He jogs backwards with a cheeky grin and winks before turning around. I blush fiercely.

Brady doesn't move, he hops from foot to foot looking awkward.

"Move your ass Jek- what have you done to your shorts..." He crosses his arms but he doesn't look surprised.

"Well... uh.. it was.... It was Atlas' fault!" He shouts pointing a finger at me, " She wanted a piece of the B-machine so bad... she's a feisty thing coach." He shakes his head and the girls look crazy trying to hide their laughter.

"B!" I scoff, feeling my cheeks heat, she shoots me a panicked smile and mouths sorry but he's literally just told Coach Simpson I'm desperate for him.

"Jesus. Don't let Beckett hear you say that crap." His eyebrows travel up his forehead and a knowingly smug smirk settles on his face as he looks at me. His eyes soften and he dips his head in a greeting. The girls audibly gasp and my face turns an almost beetroot, "Stop arsing about and go find some new ones in the lost property." Brady salutes him mockingly then runs back to the boy's locker room, holding his hand to his ass.

"Have a good practice ladies, he bothers you anymore I'll make him do laps," Coach says shaking his head in that authoritative I know what's going on here kind of way but with a polite smile.

"Bye coach." Vixxie and Carrie call after him like little fangirls, their faces contort with humour. They turn and look back at me as I swap to the other leg. Vixxie bites on her lip, pulling on her enormous smile and Carrie is practically vibrating, "See, even coach Simpson can see there's something going on between you and Blaze!"

"Oh- Shut up!" I huff, they've succeeded in rattling me. They keep demanding to know all the dirty details now we're living together but there are none. Time after time I keep having to remind them we are just friends. Sure... we nearly kissed but he hasn't mentioned it so... I'm not going to keep thinking about it... liar Atlas... He either regrets it or it's that insignificant it just doesn't bother him anymore- either I'm fine with since I don't care either. It was a heat of the moment thing... totally an almost near accident type thing.

Then why'd you kept thinking about it? How good it would feel to actually have his lips on yours?

Oh, hush Atlas! I shake my head ridding the devil on my shoulder, plaguing my mind with danm fantasies and lies.

"Come on, we should start practice before the girls start moaning," I mumble ignoring the tedious grins on their faces. I want to tell them but I just don't want to say it out loud... then it really happened and then you really care that he doesn't care.

But I thought you didn't care that he hasn't mentioned it?

The little voice taunts sarcastically at me. UGH. SHUT UP ATLAS.

Maybe I do frigging care he hasn't mentioned it, so what?

"You alright Atty? You look like you're about to pop a blood vessel?" Carrie asks as we walk over to where the other cheerleaders are warming up. Some are laying on the ground gossiping, others tying more hair into bows whilst the rest chuck red pompoms around. I hadn't realised how tensed my jaw has got and that my arms are so tightly crossed they might just puncture my lungs. Stop being so naive! More important things to focus on!!

"Fine. Let's just start." I sigh, giving her a wearily smile. She rubs my back encouragingly letting me know she's there if I need anything but she doesn't want to push.

"Alrighty, girls!" Carrie calls summoning the attention of the girls gossiping rather than stretching.

Practice is good today, I keep as far away from Hannah as I can but her gaze still manages to hit the side of my face. Fiery and malicious. We work on the routine we're doing at the state championships this weekend, it's a really fun routine I helped Carrie put together. It's got a lot more tricks in it and some more unusual dance steps, I thought it would cause a big uprising if I had directly taught everyone the new moves so I taught them to Carrie beforehand and she delivered them. Much to her protest though, she wants me to become co-captain so people can see it's me creating a lot of the choreography but I doubt that would go down well and I'm quite content teaching on the sidelines.

It feels better having spoken about everything, I never realised how much keeping secrets affected my cheering or dancing but these last few days I've seen a massive improvement in my focus, technical ability and creativity... I feel more balanced.

"Let's just run through that final stunt one more time!" Carrie calls clasping her hands together in a joyful expression meaning she's satisfied with the work we've put out today.

We move into our positions for the final stunt of the routine which is a three-layer pyramid, bases on the bottom, three girls being held up by them and finally two on top of them. I love doing pyramids especially since I'm always at the top, you can see everything from up high and I've always loved being a flyer.

The music starts and Carrie shouts of the counts, we do the steps in time as I'm thrown up by the bases onto the top of the pyramid. I hold my foot above my head in a scorpion making sure my knees and legs are completely straight, my foot wobbles slightly and I peer down to see Hannahs the one holding me up. She's sneering slightly and despite my unease about this situation I force my head forward and smile brightly.

The next part of the routine is slightly riskier, the bases have to throw me into the air and I have to land on one foot from the support of below again. I gulp as I feel my body dip, ready to be pushed up. I soar up do a toe touch and quickly bring my foot down ready to be caught. Except... I feel no grip on my shoe, I look down to see Hannahs hands by her side, a small smile on her face.

I'm going to fall.

My body gravitates backwards and I know I'm going to hit the ground, suddenly my foot is gripped, except it's in the completely wrong way considering I'm already frigging falling and a sharp pain shoots through my ankle and into my calf. It's Hannah who briefly caught my ankle mid-fall. She purposely twisted it.

I push my hands back out behind me preparing for impact, I can hear Carrie calling "Catch her! Catch her!" But I quickly feel my body slam to the ground, my head also hitting the floor quite hard on approach.

Ouch.

My head throbs slightly and everything seems muffled, my ankle is crying out in pain and my back is also very unforgiving at the way I fell. I don't want to open my eyes, afraid of what I might see at the end of my leg.

Getting injured is every dancer's worst fear. It could be something to end your career before it's even started.

The muffled voices get clearer and I recognise them as Vixxie and Carrie.

"Atlas? Can you hear me!" Carrie calls frantically.

"Just... uh... stay still we'll get help!' Vixxie says after, squeezing my hand tightly. Then another voice is added to this conversation.

"Move back girls give her some space," The voice sounds older and wiser- Coach Simpson.

"Hey! What the fuck happened? Blondie!" Then a voice that I'd recognise in a heartbeat is next to me, I already feel calmer. I feel his hot calloused finger on my cheeks, he must know I'm conscious because they flush dramatically, "Can you open your eyes?" He asks softly but there's an undertone of panic. I open them inch by inch adjusting to the sunlight again. Looking directly at Blaze so I don't have to look at my ankle.

"How about we sit you up?" Coach Simpson says, he takes one side and Blaze takes the other, my head throbs even more and I wince, "Alright, take it easy. You hit your head pretty hard." He coaxes as I sit up, Blaze leans me against him as he holds my hand, his shoulder pads feeling oddly comfortable under my bruised head. "When you fell did you hurt anything else?" Coach kneels in front of me and as embarrassing as it is my eyes well with tears. I'm petrified something irreversible happened to my limb.

It may sound dramatic but some injuries make or break. The tears don't help anything though, they actually make my head throb more.

"My-My ankle..." I wobble, a tear slipping out. Blaze is quick to wipe it from my cheek before the crowd of cheerleaders see, Carrie and Vixxie rush back from the end of the field carrying a bottle of water and a few ice packs. Hannah sits on the bleachers far away with a smug smile talking to a few other girls. I grit my teeth not even bothered by her smugness right now. Bitch.

Blaze looks knowingly at me and whispers into my ear, "Hey, don't panic it's going to be alright." Being an athlete he understands my fears and is quick to say the right things except... I am frigging panicking.

Coach is assessing my ankle as Carrie carefully places an ice pack on my head where it hurts the most. I hold it still feeling the formation of a bump underneath.

"It's swelling badly." Coach says, he doesn't even try and hide the worry in his voice making my heart drop, Blaze squeezes my hand, "Can you stand on it?"

I'm helped to my feet, Vixxie taking one hand and Blaze the other. I can stand on it which installs some relief but it's incredibly painful.

"That's good, try walking for me." I take a step forward and yelp quietly in pain. It's a struggle but I can walk on it, just. W-which is a good thing but it's hard... really hard. The pain intensifies with the few small steps I manage, my hand tensing in Blazes as he shoulders most of my weight. Suddenly I'm swept off the floor and in his arms...

"I'm taking her down to the E.R." He instructs already gesturing for the girls to grab my things.

"It's really not that bad!" I protest. They'll make me stop dancing! What if somethings snapped? There's serious recovery time and I can't have that right now! He ignores me walking off down the field with me in his arms, bridal style. I eventually give in and rest my head back on his chest, I can just about gather his minty scent through the sweaty stench but I'm not going to complain... especially when he's carrying me....fricking bridal style.

"Let me know how it goes." Coach calls after us as we reach the locker rooms.

The sterile smell in the clinical triage cubical has me even more on edge, every time the blue paper curtains make any sign of movement I jump out of the skin petrified they're going to come back with some awful diagnosis. I hate hospitals, they remind me of my mom. I spent hours being prodded and poked by doctors after what happened with my dad. They even ruled me as mute at some point. The distant beeps and whirring of machines makes my skin crawl, blue scrubs and progress charts.

I glance down at my ankle wrapped with ice packs, we came back from x-ray a long time ago which doesn't add to my apprehension. The burly woman who did it was shoving my leg into the most uncomfortable positions and I almost yelled at her to stop when she rolled my ankle around.

Would it take this long if everything was okay?

Stop! It's the ER they're busy.

"Butterfly, chill." Blaze squeezes my hand, rubbing his thumb across my cold skin. I don't think I've let go of his hand since we got here but if he's been annoyed by it he's not once complained. "I'm sure it'll be fine." He gives me a reassuring smile which if I wasn't so worried would probably make me weak at the knees.

"But what if it's not, what-what if I can't dance again!" I rush, my heart palpitating at the thought. I've only just got it back, I absolutely can not lose it again.

"Hey, calm down. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. You can walk on it and the swelling's already going down. Okay? Let's just wait for the doctor." His other hand moves onto my bare thigh, he rubs up and down absentmindedly and my insides feel all gooey. I smile at him, Blaze removed his shoulder pads which are slung in a heap on the floor and used his jersey to tie a makeshift bandage around the ice packs in the car so they wouldn't slip. I have to stop myself gauping at his heavily tattooed arms in the too-small T-shirt the receptionist handed him when we got here... I mean I wasn't opposed to keeping Blaze shirtless but I guess he was... shame...

But he's right. I'm just being dramatic, I can walk on it so that's a brilliant thing. Nothing broken... hopefully.

"I'm sorry... I dragged you away from practice.... Probably for nothing." I roll my head back to stare at the ceiling feeling guilty. Blaze has got states this weekend and that's way more important than this. I focus on the water stain on the tiled ceiling to try and ignore the fact that his hand is still on my thigh, he's stopped moving it and has become slightly rigid.

"Don't be ludicrous Atlas. This is more important than anything, even football." He loosens up when I finally look at him, he dips his head closer to mine and whispers, "I'd rather be in the ER with you than on the field without you on the sidelines." My lips turn at his sentiment feeling my heart stop, "Sorry I wasn't there to catch you." He looks sheepish as he falls back into his seat. I almost laugh.

"Last time I checked you weren't a base or support surrounding... it's not your fault." I giggle.

"Still, I was only up the field-"

"Concentrating on your game Blaze! You seriously can not blame yourself for this, doofus. You're not spiderman, you can't shoot nets to keep me from hitting the ground from miles away." I squeeze his hand, he smiles wearily at me just as the doctor walks through the curtain. She pushes her glasses up onto her nose as she read over her iPad. Her hair is tied into a short ponytail on the bottom of her head and she keeps on hand in the white coat pocket, rummaging for a... a pen. My hand automatically tightens around Blazes.