Apricity

19 ❥ Flyer Briar

I meant what I promised Roman. Aunt Gina was nice in her own sort of way. She was a lot nicer than some ladies I had met through foster care. That much was true enough. And I would rather live with her than in any of the other places I was forced to live before she came along.

Living with her sure was lonely though. It wasn't as noticeable last year when I had more friends to spend time with. I would hop from one friend to the other just to avoid this loneliness.

She was rarely ever home. Whether she was working a double or spending time with her boyfriend Cooper. That's why it surprised me when I heard her open the garage door on a night she usually would have been out.

It was late. I had more trouble sleeping on nights I spent alone. I turned the volume down on the TV when she walked through the door. "Hi Gina," I said.

She lets out a long sigh instead of answering. She drags her feet through the house. I hear her throw her bag down on the counter and open the fridge. A few seconds later the fridge slams closed and she goes through the cabinets.

"Um. There's some lasagna in the microwave for you." I was saving it in case I got hungry later because again, I wasn't expecting her to be home. But she was clearly looking for something to eat. I hear the microwave open and she grunts in what I think is her thanks.

I decide to come over to the kitchen where she sits at the table. She hasn't even taken a bite from the lasagna. It still sits under its foil wrap as she taps her fingers on the table. "Is everything okay?"

She's glaring into space when her gaze slowly makes her way over to mine. "Did you say something?"

"It's just that it's-"

"How's school going?" She cuts me off suddenly. Our few conversations always start with the same questions. How's school?

And then it occurred to me that her words were slurred and she was slumped in her chair in a sloppy sort of way. She was drunk. I knew drunk behavior and she was it.

"It's okay, I guess. It's... school." I answer awkwardly.

Then I feel awkward because all she does for a moment is stare. "You sure look like your mother, Briar"

That comment was so out of place I almost thought I had imagined it. "My mother?" I let out a short breath.

"Mm," she nodded. "Pretty woman, just like you. But you have your father's eyes." She looked at me still but it was obvious her mind was on something else. I wonder what she thought of her brother now that he was gone.

"Aunt Gina," I tried. She blinks back into focus and waits for me to go on. I bite my lip before I speak, knowing it would be taking advantage of her drunk state of mind. But I told myself I deserved to know.

"Why didn't I know you before he died? Why didn't I know you until last year?"

I stare at her in anticipation. But she doesn't answer me, she just smiles. Only her smile doesn't reach her eyes and her brows almost frown at me. She takes a deep breath before she says anything. "You seem like a smart girl, Briar." She gets up from her chair and throws the lasagna in the fridge.

I flinch when her hand brushes on my shoulder. When I look at her though, I freeze. There are unshed tears in her eyes. Pain that I had never seen in her before. "A lot smarter than I was at your age."

I wanted to know what she meant by that. I wanted to ask her to tell me everything about her childhood with my dad. I wanted to tell her everything about my childhood with my dad. And I wanted to lean into her touch and get to know this sad woman in front of me now.

But then her hand slipped away from my shoulder and she began to walk away from me. "Make sure I'm awake before you leave tomorrow." I stay there until I hear the door to her bedroom shut.

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Naomi was really laying it on me next practice. I wouldn't crack under her pressure though. I was accepted on this team for a reason and I would prove my worth through my skill alone.

But when Coach Sommers assigned me as one of the flyers, it was a harder pill to swallow. There was no sound from our half of the gym as the boys dribbled away through their basketball practice on the other half and Coach Sommers waited for a response.

"Oh, Coach, I don't know if I can-" I started.

"Nonsense, Briar. You have all the confidence and skill for a flyer."

"But I thought you already said that Shannon would be the last-" I was interrupted once again.

"Well, darling Shannon suggested that you would make a better flyer. You're smaller. You have great balance and control. I don't see any issue with your skill."

It's not the skill I'm worried about. It's about whether I trust the base cheerleaders to catch me after flinging me in the air. Base cheerleader who hated my guts.

Not seeing any way to argue my way out of this, I sheepishly nod my head toward our Coach. "Right, perfect! Now girls, let's go ahead and get into formation." We all assembled as Coach had asked us to.

I tell myself to catch my breath. Half of the flyers job is the confidence to follow through with the stunt. When Valentina looked at me and gave me a reassuring nod, it was easier to convince myself it would be okay. She would catch me all by herself if the others bailed.

I ignored Naomi because of course, she just had to be one of the four bases to catch me. I didn't need her glare alone to knock my confidence and have that be the reason I sprain my tailbone.

I take another calming breath and think of something else. When my gaze catches someone from across the gym, the ease slowly settles.

Roman is quick and focused as he maneuvers his way around while dribbling the ball. I see the maroon band still snug around his wrist that he moves the ball with and the smile that comes with the routine feels more genuine.

At the sound of Coach's whistle, I follow the step, lock, and tighten routine, squeezing my core muscles and straightening my knees and feet before I'm launched into the air.

I was a flyer last year too, the movement in the air was practically muscle memory at this point. When I make it back down in the arms of my bases, I'm relieved, to say the least.

But then Coach Sommers gets on to another girl for landing sloppy and makes us run it again, I have to force myself to relax all over again.

The second run was fine, the third was the same.

It was the  fourth time we practiced the routine was when I didn't get the support I needed to land successfully.

✎ A/N: All new content (;

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