Dear Little Deaf Boy

Chapter 6 - Halftime

Chapter 6 - Halftime

I hated gym class. Not because I was scared to break a sweat. Please. As a dancer, I was used to way more work than four laps around the track. What annoyed me was sweating for something I didn't even care about. At least with dance, the pain had purpose. It was passion. Here, it was just running in circles like a hamster.

Gym was pretty simple: the athletes did their thing, Lucas with football, Carly with cheer, and the rest of us without a sport just walked the track or sat around killing time. Usually, I sat in the bleachers with Nani and Bee, waiting for the clock to run down, talking about everything from boys to dance practice later that day. Our very exciting conversations usually came to a screeching halt whenever Zane and Lucas wandered over to irritate us, even though they had more important things to do, like catching balls.

But today was different. Today the conversation wasn't about me. It was about Carly. That wasn't something I could get used to. Not with my dad already putting me on the bench in dance until I got my grades up. I couldn't get used to the conversation being about Carly, about how great her solos were, how flawless her performance had been. Please. That was a reality I refused to live in.

And it wasn't that I thought Carly was better than me. Not at all. It was just the more people praised her, the greater the chance they might start thinking she could replace me. Me. Kinsley Pines.

I don't normally operate under insecurities. Matter of fact, I'm not insecure at all. Would an insecure person cross the football field with everyone's eyes on them? Uh, no. Because the points prove themselves.

I'm not about to sit here and call myself a gold medalist gymnast. But if Carly can do it, how fucking hard can it be?

I'm not just a dancer either. My flexibility and ballet training were always paired with acrobatic techniques and private lessons. Really, how different is a toe touch from a jeté? Same air, same height, same control. And even if it was different, it wouldn't matter.

Because I'm the one doing it.

The day was crisp and cool, a clean blue sky stretching wide overhead. A breeze drifted across the field, tugging at sleeves and ponytails. Football players sprawled on the sidelines, water bottles in hand. Track walkers circled the field in lazy loops. But the loudest corner of the world belonged to Carly and her cheerleaders.

They huddled tight, pom-poms shaking, laughter spilling like they had just watched a Super Bowl halftime.

"That was amazing, Carly!" one squealed.

"You landed that perfectly!" another gushed.

Ass kissers.

Carly basked in it. Her striking red ponytail was pulled high and tight, swishing when she tossed her head. She wore the uniform like it was made for her, navy-blue shorts hugging her hips and a fitted long-sleeve white top that set off the dusting of freckles across her skin. Even standing still, she looked like a poster girl for pep rallies and school spirit. Again, if you ask me, I don't know how the hell Carly became a cheerleader. She's always been a mood killer for me. Cheer was the one place she got to be effortless. Anywhere else, I always seemed to give her a run for her money.

So I decided to remind her of that.

I stood from the bleachers, smoothed my shirt, and started across the field. The breeze tugged at my ponytail as heads began to turn. A football player paused mid-sip. Track walkers slowed. The cheer huddle's giggles thinned as they noticed me heading straight for them.

Slow claps. Once. Twice. Three times.

The sound sliced the chatter clean. Pom-poms sagged. Carly turned, her light eyes seeming to darken when they landed on me.

"Beautiful work, Carly," I said, smiling sweet as sugar. "Though I do see, even as a cheerleader, you still struggle with pointing your toes."

Her squad shifted uneasily. One girl scoffed, another whispered, and the rest giggled behind their pom-poms. Carly smiled tight, but her voice stayed smooth.

"Oh, Kinsley," she said, with that menacing sweetness, as if speaking to a child. "You really do try."

I matched her expression, masking venom with sugar. Our smiles looked the same, but we both knew what was underneath.

"Try. That's funny, Carly. I guess I do. You wouldn't mind if I gave that little tumble pass of yours a go, would you? What was it again? Oh wait." I tapped my chin, pretending to think. "I think I remember."

My heart thudded as I backed up across the turf. The grass felt cool and springy under my sneakers, the breeze brushing over me like a dare. For a second, the whole field blurred, the football players, the walkers, Carly's girls, and it was just me and the stretch of space ahead.

Then I ran.

Cartwheel. Round-off. Back handspring. The exact same pass Carly had just done, down to the angle of her landing. A ripple of recognition ran through the crowd, gasps bubbling like, isn't that Carly's pass?

But I didn't stop where she had.

Another back handspring. A tuck. A twist. The air rushed around me, my ponytail whipping loose until it unraveled completely, dark brown hair spilling down my back. I hit a clean aerial, hair fanning out, and tacked on another flip just because I could. The murmurs turned into gasps, the gasps into cheers, the cheers into screams as I stretched the pass further and further, every toe pointed, every line sharp.

I landed strong, chest open, arms high. My shirt had riled up somewhere in the chaos, my black sports bra flashing for half a second as I stuck it. I didn't rush to pull it down. I wasn't shy about my body, never had been. I let it linger, let the crowd take it in, before I smoothed the hem back into place as I strolled toward Carly, shoulders straight, hair wild around me like it had been waiting for this moment to break free.

"Darn," I said softly, tilting my head. "That wasn't it, was it?" I let out a light, coy huff and gave a small shrug, my smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Well, at least I tried."

And with that, I turned on my heel and walked off, hair loose around my shoulders, the crowd's noise swelling behind me.

Behind me, my friends were somewhere in the noise, Nani's sharp clap, Bee's voice rising above the rest, but it was background, faint compared to the roar in my chest. The moment was too sweet to share. The best part, though, was the heat radiating off Carly. I could practically see smoke curling from her. I had always known she was the devil. Her scowl cut across the field, but I didn't care. For the first time all period, every single eye was on me.