Boarded by Love Read online

  I kinda wish I was in therapy right now. That’s how bad I want to leave this rehearsal. While I love teaching dance, teaching to a group of jerks is really trying my nerves. I figure that this is practice to get me ready for the bigger assholes of dance, but my goodness, how can a group of eight girls bitch so much? I mean, we are dancers! We had to be able to do certain stuff to join! So I really don’t understand why, when I add that stuff in the dance, people want to bitch. It’s insane and annoying. I don’t even want to be here, but I know I can’t leave. We perform Saturday, and I love this piece. I worked hard on it, and it’s going to be freaking fabulous as soon as these girls get it down. I don’t want us looking stupid in front of the Bullies team.

  Especially my man.

  “I can’t do a triple! I just can’t!” Mia complains and I stop the music.

  I take in a deep breath and head toward her. “Yes, you can. Pull up, strong back leg, and hold it out,” I say, holding my arms out as I demonstrate it for her. “It’s all in the back leg. You have to push off with it to get you around three times. You can do it.”

  She tries it a couple times, and finally the third time, she does it. “Feels good, right?” I ask as she grins at me.

  “Yeah, I got it, thank you. You’re really good at this.”

  “Thank you,” I say, and we share a small smile before I look out at the rest of the group. “Any other problems?”

  No one answers me, so I go get the remote and then head to my spot which is right beside Rachael. I didn’t want to be by her, but I wanted to be in the middle so the team could see me. Since she’s the captain, I put her in the center, but I kind of wish I had stuck her in the back, or maybe even in the hall. I hate the way she’s watching me in the mirror, but I ignore her and hit play before calling out, “Five, six, seven, eight.”

  The music to Jennifer Lopez’s “I Luh Ya Papi” starts and so do we. We all move in perfect unison, all attitude and great movement. I am so proud of this group in this moment. There are a few little wobbles here and there, but for the most part, it’s outstanding. When we finish, I stop the music and turn to the girls. “Great job, ladies. That turn was great, Mia. Keep working on it. Great attitude, Skylar. Remember, we have to point toes and be strong. Now, we only have twenty seconds left, and I want to do a side stretch. Like this,” I say then I throw my leg straight out to the side, my torso following the movement to where my body is completely horizontal, standing on one leg. Standing back up, I ask, “Who can do that? Or who wants to try?”

  Only Skylar raises her hand as Rachael says, “No normal person can do that. I mean, how do you even do that and stay upright?”

  Why does this girl test my patience? I have ten-year-olds who do that stretch beautifully. Swallowing loudly, I say, “I know a lot of people who can. It’s all about the strength in your bottom leg. Let’s all try it.”

  She doesn’t say anything, and I demonstrate it a few times. Then I watch as some try it. It’s too rough though, and I know I can’t make everyone do it. When Rachael does it perfectly though, I clap in excitement.

  “Great job, Rachael!”

  When she gives me a shitty look, I want to punch her in the throat. But I ignore the need to do that because, as we’re both in the middle, we can do it together while everyone else does heel stretches or something. I explain what we’re going to do and everyone seems to be on board. I then run it over and over again, despite people bitching because I want this to be perfect. It isn’t till Rachael calls practice that I stop.

  Unhooking my iPod, I head to where Skylar is standing by our bags, chugging a water. Before I can get to her though, Mia stops me. “Can you show me that stretch again? I want to try it again.”

  “Sure,” I say, laying my iPod down and then doing it for her. She tries to mimic me, but her bottom leg isn’t strong enough. “It takes practice.”

  “Yeah, you’re really flexible too.”

  “Yeah, I am, years of practice and stretching.”

  “I bet Jude loves that,” Maddy says in a snotty little way.

  I ignore her and send Mia a smile before heading to my bag.

  “Obviously not, since he was single last night,” I hear Rachael say.

  Looking up, Skylar says, “Ignore her. She’s looking to get a rise out of you.”

  I ignore Skylar though and say, “What does that mean?”

  “Claire, ignore her,” Skylar says again, but I wave her off.

  Setting me with a bitchy look, her hands on her hips, Rachael says, “Exactly what it sounded like. Jude was single last night at the party.”

  “Oh no,” Skylar says faintly.

  Taking a step toward Rachael, I ask, “Oh really?”

  “Oh yeah, but don’t worry,” she says, giving me a very condescending look. “No one expected y’all to work.”

  My face heats with anger as my heart pounds in my chest. It can’t be true. It can’t be. “How do you know this?”

  With her eyes locked on mine, her chin up in the air in a defiant way, she says, “’Cause I slept with him.”

  I can hear the gasps but mostly all I hear is my own heartbeat in my ears. “Is that right?”

  “Sure did, right, Mia?”

  Mia looks away and shrugs as my eyes bore a hole in her head. “I don’t know.”

  I don’t necessarily trust Mia, but she’s an all right person, unlike this cuntbag.

  “You followed me downstairs. Don’t act like you don’t know what happened,” Rachael says, and when Mia’s eyes meet mine, I actually want to cry.

  “She did go into his room. I don’t know what happen though ’cause I went back upstairs,” Mia says quickly.

  “Yup, he got superdrunk and begged me for it. I was a little tipsy, but I couldn’t say no. Though this morning when I woke up, I sorta felt bad since we’re so close and all,” she says, her eyes in slits. I want to reach up and claw them out of her face, but I know that won’t do anything but get me kicked off campus since there is a no-fighting clause. She’s lucky that I care about my education, or I’d beat the living crap out of her. I don’t want to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth, but it just seems like too much of a coincidence. I mean, he was at the party, he was drunk, and now he’s hung over. He told me it was a wild night. He was honest about everything, but did he leave some things out?

  Turning before I do exactly what I want, which is beat this bitch’s ass, I head out of the building, ignoring Skylar and forgetting my bag and the fact that I’m wearing only a bra and booty shorts. I don’t even feel the cold air, though; I’m too mad. Thankfully the Bullies’ house isn’t too far though, because once I reach the door, my toes are frozen. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. He didn’t do this. I know he didn’t, but just to be sure I’m going to ask him, and if he lies to me, I swear I will choke him.

  The only problem is that somewhere deep inside me, I wonder if he did, and I honestly hate that.

  Walking into the house instead of knocking, I head downstairs to his room and knock on the door. Jayden answers and gives me a weird look before I say, “I need to speak with Jude.”

  “Where are your clothes?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I need to see Jude,” I say, my voice stern.

  He shakes his head, concern on his face as he points upstairs. “He’s upstairs eating.”

  “Thanks,” I say and I rush back upstairs with Jayden on my heels.

  “Everything okay, Claire?” he asks, trying to keep up with me. “Do you want a shirt or something?

  “No, and it depends on if your brother cheated on me,” I answer as I make my way to the kitchen.

  “Oh hell,” he mutters just as I reach it to find Jude with his head on the table, a bowl of cereal beside him. He looks like hell. His hair is all in disarray and he’s not wearing a shirt, just athletic shorts. His face is pale and I almost feel bad, but then I remember that he might have slept with Rachael, and all my sympathy flies out the dam