Killer Moves (Horror High Series Book 3) Page 2

  Ever since she caught me kissing her boyfriend Andy—my ex-boyfriend, as in he was mine first—she’s had it out for me. It wasn’t my fault we kissed! At the time I thought I was moving, and I didn’t even know they were talking yet…but try telling that to Dakota.

  Jordan yawned. “Can I drop you off here with them?” he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “I guess.” I got out, ordered him to pop the trunk, and hauled my bags from the back onto the wet, glistening asphalt.

  “Wow, that’s a lot of makeup for one girl!” Dakota said, snickering and pointing at my bags.

  “Whatever,” I grumbled, dragging both bags toward the school building, making my way through the dark. Dakota leaned against her car, watching my brother pull off.

  I would wait by myself on the front steps for Coach Davis. That’d be better than standing by her.

  I was surprised Sydney wasn’t with her; those two were usually inseparable.

  “Hey, wait up!” I could hear Ashleigh’s shoes scraping the asphalt behind me.

  I slowed down, smiling at the tiny bag in her hand as she caught up beside me. “You didn’t bring much.” I nodded down at her bag.

  She really is planning to wear that uniform all weekend, I thought, suppressing a giggle.

  Like me, Ashleigh was nobody’s favorite. Initially accused of being the sociopath who was stalking them, the girls on the team still didn’t trust her—even though her name had been cleared.

  Well, I’m not going to hold it against her, I decided, plopping down on the third stone step of Horror High. Ashleigh happily sat down beside me, holding her bag to her chest.

  Glaring up at the building over my right shoulder, I shivered at the sight of our school. A flat rectangular building, it was nothing to look at really…but the people inside of it gave me the willies.

  “There’s Gabi and Lauren!” Ashleigh exclaimed, pointing at a glittering green Honda with a tall sporty fin on the back.

  Gabriella—or Gabi for short—was our designated flyer for stunts. She was cute and sweet, and hooked to the hip of Lauren Delancey.

  Lauren was every insecure girl’s worst nightmare—pretty and smart, she was supposed to be a freshman last year, but she’d jumped a grade. She would be a junior this upcoming school year, along with me, Dakota, Sydney, and Amanda.

  But most importantly, Lauren was a kick ass tumbler. With her on our team, we were going to rock Chattanooga’s world. Most of the girls were intimidated by her, but having her would help us win…plus, she’s my brother Jordan’s girlfriend, so I kind of had to play nice.

  “Is everyone here?” Lauren breathed, jogging across the parking lot with Gabi trailing in her wake.

  “Still waiting on Sydney and Coach Davis, of course,” Dakota shouted, finally leaving her car in the lot to join us on the front steps.

  “I’m surprised Sydney didn’t ride with you,” Lauren said, narrowing her eyes at Dakota. “With Amanda out, we need Sydney to be here. We can’t go on without at least six of us.” She stared at Dakota with a wary expression.

  “She’ll be here,” Dakota sniffed, staring out at the inky black parking lot.

  Dakota sounded confident, but I wasn’t so sure…it wouldn’t be the first time Sydney went missing. She was kidnapped for a brief period last year by Mariella Martin, at least that’s what most people think.

  But I’m not most people…

  There was a note discovered on Mariella’s person—a note claiming Amanda and Dakota were killers.

  Honk honk!

  A white van circled the parking lot, its driver leaning on the horn. Dakota groaned.

  “Not that old ugly thing!” She crossed her arms angrily, glaring at the van as it moved toward the curb in front of us.

  It had “Harrow Dragons” painted across its side panel, but the paint had seen better days.

  “We’re riding in that?” Lauren chortled, joining Dakota’s stance as we waited for the driver to stop.

  The windows had a dark tint to them, and I squinted to see the driver. Coach Davis was bound to a wheelchair now, so somebody else was driving.

  “Coach Davis needs this van because of her wheelchair, guys,” I hissed at them, shushing their rude complaints.

  The driver’s side door opened and banged shut, then the driver walked around to our side of the vehicle. He stopped in front of us, hands on hips, flashing a goofy, lopsided smile.

  “Oh my god!” Dakota squealed, running toward him. She excitedly leaped into his arms.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, playfully punching at his arms and chest, all the while wrapping her legs around his waist like a small child…

  I stared at my white Kaepa shoes, gnawing on my lower lip. Damn my luck.

  The driver of the cheer van was Andy McGraw—my ex-boyfriend.

  Chapter Three

  “I don’t think she’s coming,” I whispered to Coach Davis. She was sitting in the first row in the back of the van with me, Gabi, Lauren, and Ashleigh crammed in the row behind her. She was loaded up and strapped in, her wheelchair secured in the back.

  Ever since she was shot last year, she’d been paralyzed from the waist down. A former NFL cheerleader, it pained me to know she’d lost the ability to tumble. But despite her disability, she seemed like her usual smiling, yet tough, self.

  “Sydney is coming!” Dakota hissed from the front, leering at me from the passenger makeup mirror, where she was obsessively checking for food in her teeth. Andy was behind the wheel, patiently waiting for our last rider to show up—Sydney.

  “Call her again, Dakota,” Coach Davis ordered, sighing as she looked at her watch. Dakota pulled out her iPhone. Meanwhile, I snuck a peek at Andy. With his red hair and freckles, he wasn’t your typical “hot” guy. But he was totally adorable in his own little Andy way, and the best thing about him was his silly personality and easygoing demeanor. That boy could make anything funny, even the most serious of moments.

  I miss him. Not just as a boyfriend, but as my best friend too…

  Dakota loudly demanded that Sydney call her back; she had obviously reached her voicemail.

  “So, how did you get nominated as our chauffeur to Chattanooga?” I asked, shyly brushing my white-blonde hair out of my face.

  “Oh, I begged Coach Davis to let me take you girls. There’s nothing I’d rather spend my weekend doing than going to a cheer competition,” Andy teased. He smiled back at me in the rearview mirror.

  I playfully smiled back, looking down at my lap and then back up at him. He stared back at me, holding my gaze for so long that two pink circles formed on my cheeks.

  Dakota cleared her throat loudly. She too was staring back at me, only she wasn’t smiling.

  I shrugged and looked away, staring out the side window of the van.

  “Wait. There she is, guys!” I nodded toward a blue Mini Cooper that was pulling into the lot.

  “That’s her car?” Lauren squeaked, diving across my lap to get a look at Sydney’s brand new expensive ride.

  When Sydney stepped out, we all let out a sigh of relief. Now that we were all here, we could finally get going and hopefully kill this competition!

  Chapter Four

  It was a five-hour drive to Chattanooga. Four if we hurried, and didn’t make too many pit stops. I expected to be bored for most of the ride, so I’d brought my iPod touch, which was loaded with all of my favorite songs. “Angry girl music,” as Andy liked to call it—or used to, when we were friends.

  I swiped through my playlist, but nothing I’d downloaded appealed to me…

  This wasn’t how this was supposed to go…we are supposed to be in Dallas this summer, traveling to the biggest competition in the U.S.—riding first class on a plane. Not sweating in the back of this dingy, used up, paint-chipped van. Sure, I’d scolded the other girls for complaining, but that didn’t stop me from having my own disappointed thoughts—although I knew enough to keep them to myself.

  High s
chool cheerleaders from all over the country flocked to Dallas every year…but apparently, they didn’t want us there. Coach Davis gave us the news lightly, trying to cushion the blow. Our school had a reputation. Some of the other coaches had passed around a petition, asking for us to be disinvited from the event. Too dangerous after all of the violence known to occur at Horror High, they’d claimed.

  “The good news is, we’re going to the second biggest competition in the country. Chattanooga,” Coach Davis had announced. Chattanooga was a decent comp, and an alternative for schools with less money…or bad reputations like ours.

  “This gives us a better shot at winning, girls. The competition won’t be as stiff. We could easily claim first place.”

  I hoped like hell she was right. I wanted to show up those precocious snots in Dallas—that was more important than a trophy.

  The girls were quiet for most of the ride—Lauren and Gabi whispering in the back, Ashleigh smiling to herself in her usual weird way, and Dakota snoring softly in the front. Coach Davis studied her cheer book, methodically taking notes in the margins. I knew that as soon as we checked into our hotel, she would order us to get dressed and ready for practice. She was super sweet when it came to teaching English, but cheerleading was her life’s blood. She took it seriously—very seriously.

  Sydney sat beside Coach Davis, her head resting against the window glass, squinting at the rising sun. Normally a stickler for being on time, she hadn’t even bothered to explain her lateness. She also wasn’t studying her cheers, which truly, was unlike Sydney.

  Sydney was Dakota’s friend, not mine. But I felt compelled to ask if she was all right.

  “Fine,” she mumbled, barely glancing back at me in the seat. She seemed like she was in her own little world, something on her mind…

  After what she went through last year—what we all went through—it wasn’t really surprising. We were all recovering from the horrible school shooting, and the shock of what Mariella did to so many of our classmates.

  But something about Sydney’s demeanor felt off today. Andy was quieter than usual too, focused on navigating the big clunky bus and getting us to our hotel on time.

  “Can we stop soon?” Lauren whined from the back, bouncing her legs up and down because she obviously had to pee.

  “It’s only been an hour, L! Sheesh,” Gabi said, poking Lauren in the belly.

  Two miles up, Andy merged off the exit, following signs for a nearby rest stop. Coach Davis sighed, glancing at her watch for the second time today already.

  Once parked, Andy nudged Dakota awake. I climbed out, offering to help Coach Davis, but she chose to stay behind in the van, still making marks in her cheer book.

  “I hope she’s not making any last minute changes to the routine. Sydney just learned them a week ago,” Lauren whispered, climbing out behind me to stretch her legs.

  Dakota was awake now and she pried at Sydney, trying to get her to join her outside the van to talk. But Sydney stayed behind with Coach Davis, quiet with an ashen expression.

  I headed toward the restrooms and vending machines, following the other cheerleaders. Ashleigh and the others headed for the restroom, but I didn’t need to go just yet, so I made a beeline for the snacks, happy to see plenty of chocolate and Coke.

  After chugging the soda, I stared at the snacks, finally deciding on Snickers and Twix bars.

  “You always did have a sweet tooth.” Andy chuckled behind me.

  “Where’s Dakota?” I asked, cringing as I squeezed my hand in the tiny slot at the bottom that contained my snacks.

  “She’s back at the van, trying to figure out what’s wrong with Sydney.”

  “And did she? Figure out what’s wrong?” I asked, my blonde hair whipping across my face as I turned to look at him.

  His face was the same, dotted with freckles and boyish charm—the same Andy I remembered, but he was no longer the boy I knew…

  He has a girlfriend, I reminded myself. I’d been telling myself that repeatedly all school year, but it still didn’t seem to be helping…

  Andy shrugged at my question, digging change and his cell phone out of his pocket as he peered at the vending machine. His phone chirped and he held it up to read a text, grinning that familiar smile of his.

  I peeled back the wrapper to my Twix bar, sliding one of them out to nibble on. “What is it?”

  I tried to peer over his shoulder at the message.

  “Your brother, that’s what,” he said, laughing. “He and some of the guys on the team are driving up here tonight.”

  “I told him not to! Coach Davis will shit a brick!”

  “Not if she doesn’t find out,” Andy said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. His eyes stayed on mine for a second too long.

  I smiled back at Andy just as Dakota began screaming his name from the van. She’d obviously seen us together, and wanted to hurry up and break us apart. What else is new?

  I strolled toward a tiny patch of Kentucky bluegrass, eating my candy bar and mulling over Andy’s words.

  By ‘not if she doesn’t find out,’ I wonder if he meant Dakota not finding out about me and him, our feelings we still had for each other…? The thought was totally silly and random, but when I looked toward the van to see if it was time to go, I caught Andy staring right at me again. I blushed.

  Does he still have feelings for me? I wondered. Tossing my empty candy wrappers in a nearby trashcan, I jogged back toward the van, pausing to let Lauren and Gabi in first. Ashleigh climbed in behind me.

  I couldn’t hide the hopeful smile from my face as I sat down in the backseat and buckled my seatbelt.

  I really hope he does.

  Chapter Five

  Our hotel was conveniently located two blocks from the convention center, which is where the cheer competition was held. It was also a short distance from Gym Time, a local gymnastics facility where Coach Davis planned on having us practice the routine.

  Coach Davis had her own room, and so did Andy, but the rest of us had to divide ourselves between two rooms. It was immediately obvious that no one wanted to bunk up with Ashleigh, so, I volunteered to be her roomie, while the other four girls decided to take the room beside us. It seemed silly—four of them in a room, and only the two of us in another. But if that’s how they wanted to be, then so be it. I actually kind of liked Ashleigh Westerfield.

  “I’ve never stayed in a hotel room before,” Ashleigh announced as soon as we closed the door behind us. She sat on one of the beds, bouncing up and down on her behind, enjoying its softness, and excitedly looking around our hotel room. I suddenly felt so sad for her; everyone at school knew she’d had a hard life.

  “It’s a really nice room.” I smiled at her, tossing my bags on the other queen-sized bed. “How long do you think we have?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

  “I bet we have less than ten minutes,” Ashleigh said, stretching out on the bed.

  “Make that two minutes!” I said, just as we heard a sudden shrill knock on our door.

  “Get dressed! We’re heading straight to practice!” Coach Davis announced through the door.

  Ashleigh looked at me and we both groaned in unison.

  ***

  Practice was brutal. But did I really expect any less from Coach Davis? After warm-up, jumps, and tumbling, we ran through the entire routine no less than ten times to make sure we were solid and all knew our parts.

  The practice went well, but now my body felt dead—legs buzzing from the workout and wrists aching something fierce…

  “I feel like I could sleep for five days…” I yawned, stretching out on my hotel bed and kicking off my Kaepas. Ashleigh was brushing her long, dirty blonde hair as she watched a program on the crime scene network. She’d finally taken off the uniform at least—changing into red yoga pants and a sports bra for practice.

  “So, what’s for dinner?” I asked loudly, trying to get her attention away from the creepy show. She shrugged. “The girls
said something about walking to the Hard Rock Café, but I’m pretty sure I’m not invited.”

  I sat up on the bed. “Oh, screw them! Especially Dakota! You want to order room service?” Ashleigh’s blank expression morphed into a gleeful grin.

  “I’ve never had room service before!”

  We perused the hotel menus, finally deciding on big heaping bowls of pasta and appetizers—fried jalapeno poppers and a double order of bacon cheese fries.

  Coach Davis really would shit a brick if she saw us eating so much junk the night before our competition…

  “Are you sure we can afford all this?” Ashleigh hesitated, holding the hotel phone away from her ear.

  “It’s on me,” I said, smiling and standing up to change my clothes. While we waited for our food, I slipped on jeans and a tank top, and then I tied my hair into a tiny white knot at the base of my skull.

  “I never wear much makeup, but my den mom at the group home taught me some things about cosmetology…” As soon as Ashleigh said it, her cheeks reddened.

  “Will you help me with my eye shadow then?” I asked, trying to pretend it wasn’t shocking news—that she’d spent time living in a group home. A group home for what? I wondered. Does she have a mental illness, or were her parents just that shitty she needed to be taken care of?

  I definitely didn’t plan on asking.

  Our bathroom was equipped with a his and hers sink. I sat on the toilet beside the sinks while Ashleigh crouched in front of me, focusing intently on my face.

  Using a stiff, flat brush, she carefully applied a bronze shadow to both eyelids. With a different brush and a lighter shade of shadow, she brushed more over my lash lines and blended it all together. She added some pale pink rouge to my cheeks.

  Afterwards, I stood in the mirror, shocked by the person looking back at me. Never in my life, and not with a million tries, would I ever be able to make my makeup look this good.