Chapter Seven: Like Toy Soldiers Part One
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Degrassi or anything associated with it. I only own the made up characters Wes, Gia, Tweak, Tristan, Breanne, and Jesse.
"Where the hell is everybody?" Breanne's husky voice smashed through the empty gym like thunder would. She moved in front of Tristan, who was hunched over and ready to crawl back into bed on the bleachers, with anger and frustration honest on her face.
"It's seven am on Saturday, Breanne." Tristan was careful not to call her Bree or Anne. "They're probably nursing a hang over or just in bed." Tristan tried to say without being patronizing.
"Well, you're here. You got my text."
Unfortunately, Tristan had checked her phone at six thirty in the morning which was beeping because of Breanne had sent out a mass text to the entire Trojan squad which was all in capitals:
GIRLS! ASAP IN THE GYM.
700!
B. AUGUST
It would appear that Tristan was the only one who checked her phone or who truly lived in fear of the wrath of Captain Breanne August.
"Are they oblivious that the Sparkle Classic is in a week? Unless we have a killer routine down pat, we won't even be considered. They only take one high school from each district." She ranted about things Tristan already knew. Breanne was pacing like an ant in ant hill would while building their home. She must've downed a Venti something at Starbucks before opening up the gym or perhaps there really was no rest for the wicked.
"It's Saturday morning." Tristan tried to reason with her captain. "They probably haven't even checked their phones."
"Then, they shouldn't even be on the squad. They have zero dedication."
"Come on, Breanne. Wait another minute." Tristan suggested. Secretly, she just hoped it would give her more time to keep her eyes closed and resting.
"No, it's already seven twenty. I'm done!" She confirmed and then stomped over to the bleachers and began to throw her things back into her Lulu Lemon gym bag. It matched the colors of their squad: red, blue, and an outline of black.
"That's probably good." Tristan said, cluelessly. "You could use some sleep, I bet."
"No, I'm done with this squad. I give up! You're all hopeless!" Breanne released all her anger on just Tristan, who had popped up from her former position and had exploded her sleepy eyes in Breanne's direction. "Here, you be captain!" She pointed in Tristan's face. "Good luck! You can't do a back hand spring to save your life." She said like it was insulting.
Before, Tristan could let her eyes adjust to the blinding gymnasium lights, Breanne was gone.
Tristan stretched out her arms and dug through her purse for her thin CD case. She flipped through her small selection for a good song to choreograph a routine to. Lazily, she dragged her feet up to the little table where the small portable stereo sat and popped in a burnt CD, her best friend Danielle had made for her once. She decided on track three "Killa" by Cherish and Yung Joc. Without warming up, she began to throw her hips to left and right and moved her head around in circle. She had never choreographed anything on her own. You never dared project your own idea into one of Breanne's sex-inspired routines. She tried to dancing around in hopes something would come to her. She didn't care how silly she might've looked; she was alone in her abandoned school gym. Or so she thought.
She had turned the music up so loud and was breathing out in sync that she never even heard the door open or the sound of sneakers squeaking across the hardwood floor.
"Nice moves." Laughed a voice that surprised Tristan so much that she tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. "Whoa, my bad." Wes Brooks had a huge grin that took over most of his face. He slammed off the song and extended his hands down to pick Tristan back up onto her feet.
"I didn't think anyone else was here." Exhaling deeply, Tristan held her pelvis and laughed due to her embarrassment.
"Same. I always come here Saturday mornings and I've never seen you here before. Actually, nobody comes here on Saturday mornings. That's why I like it." He admitted.
"Sorry." She stared down at her running shoes, so he wouldn't see her flustered pink cheeks; also she didn't want to stare at the bruise around his eye that she knew her brother gave him. "This won't become a pattern, I promise."
"I don't mind." He shrugged his shoulders and moved over to the stereo to flip through her CD case. "What are you doing here?"
"Breanne called for an emergency cheer practice." She explained while watching him.
"And you were the only one who showed up?" He balanced his butt against the table while looking at her collection.
"Yeah." She stormed out pretty pissed and now, I'm the new captain of the Merrymont Trojans Cheerleaders."
"No way, really?" Grinning widely again, he looked up at her to see her nod proudly. "Congrats."
"Thanks. Except, the pressure's on because Sparkle Classic tryouts our Thursday and we don't have a routine."
"Hence the dancing?"
"Yeah." She blushed.
"Well, you've got quite a mash up of music here." He held up her case in his hand.
"It's not all mine. Some are Danielle's." She excused any chance that there was a super girly CD in there which she knew there was. Everybody knew Wes only listened to music with a pumping beat and thick bass line. Tristan was more of a top 40 kind of girl, she liked her Britney Spears, boy bands, and every now and then she would curl up and sink into a Faith Hill song.
"Can I help you come up with something?" He pushed himself off the table and offered.
"If you want. Don't you have to practice?"
"I've got time." He looked her up and down from her pony tail to her worn out Pumas. "Show me what you got so far." He reached back to turn the song back on.
Tristan took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that Wes Brooks was talking to her and watching her. She just moved.
"I like it." He smiled watching her dance around. She was cute, he thought. He laughed as she felt comfortable enough to smile and make a few goofy faces. "Here, watch this." He waited for the chorus to end before standing next to her and showing off a few raw moves he'd learnt from watching Usher videos on repeat.
"Nice!" She moved to the music and attempted to follow him.
Together, the two came up with a routine that Tristan felt was too fresh for any judge to ignore. Even though she was thrilled to be in the presence of Wes Brooks, she was even more excited to be in charge of the squad now. If they got to go to the Sparkle Classic, they'd get to fly out to LA and one of the judge's was Toronto's own, Manuella Santos. She was the star of Tristan's favorite show. She never missed an episode, she'd tape them on the nights she had cheer or had to work late.
X
"Where have you been?" Ashley asked her son, as he let himself through the front door of their house. He was panting, but had a giant smile drawn on his face. She knew Wes went to practice every morning, but it was ten to noon. He had never been that late before, usually he was back by ten.
"I was practicing." He said, wiping sweat from around his lips.
"I know, but it's almost lunch time." She watched him from the living room where she was folding a clean load of darks and watching a repeat of Dr. Phil.
"Well, I got a late start." He admitted. He dropped his bag at the door next to the shoes he'd kicked off and crashed down on the coach next to his mom.
"You didn't get into any trouble, did you?"
"No." He shook his head and chuckled. "One of the cheerleader's was there and she was working on a new routine."
"Who?" Ashley focused all of her attention on her son. She dropped the navy blue dish towel that she'd been folding back into the laundry hamper. "Was it Whitney? Oh, tell me it was Whitney!" She gushed.
Ever since Wes joined the Trojan team in his freshman year, Ashley had been infatuated with the idea of him and one of the cheerleader's Whitney Doane. Whitney was beautiful like a soap opera character was with a face that was beautifully sculpted and blonde hair that never went flat or dry. Whitney and Wes had flirted with one another for years, but she was always playing games with him and trying to make him jealous. Wes was getting pretty tired of it.
"No, not Whitney." He rolled his eyes away from his mom and tried to watch the program she was watching.
"What about Breanne? Captain of the cheerleaders and the basketball star?" She poked her son, playfully. He got his mother's point loud and clear.
"No. Breanne quit the squad actually." He informed her.
"Really?" Ashley was genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, that's why Tristan was there. She's the new captain, she needed to come up with a routine for the Sparkle Classic."
"Tristan?" Ashley thought about it for a moment. "Tristan Hogart?" She didn't even attempt to disguise the disgust in her voice.
"Yeah, I think that's her name."
"That's the sister of that little tool that sucker punched you."
"I know." Wes didn't seem to care about that fact.
"Daughter of the man who confined your father to a wheelchair."
"That's not entirely true, Mom." This had always been a sore subject with his mother, so Wes rarely brought it up. "That Rick guy did."
"Yes, thanks to rumors Jayson Hogart spread."
"She is innocent. She's not like either her brother or dad and I never said I was dating her. I just said we hung out."
"Well, don't." Ashley said adamantly and then turned up Dr. Phil.
Wes knew better than to test or argue with his mom, but since his mother was so against Tristan, it made him a little more interested in her. Besides, he had made plans with Tristan to go shoot hoops down at the park later that night. He couldn't just cancel now, that would be rude and his parents had taught him better than that.
X
Sitting on the porch in his backyard, Jesse Hogart was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle with three of his friends who were getting just loaded as he was before going out to crash some party.
Tristan checked her watch while stepping outside onto the porch to grab her shoes. It was almost eight pm; she was supposed to meet Wes in fifteen. She had dressed in an old hoodie and a pair of gym shorts she'd had forever.
"Going to go work off your fat ass?" His eyes thin and glossy, her big brother called at her.
She looked up from lacing up her shoes and just shook her head at him. Even though she was a blur, he could see she was very disapproving. His friends snickered though and that was good enough for him.
"Why don't you come over here and give me a little lap dance?" Jesse's best friend, Tweak hooted at her and then patted his open legs.
"Jerk off." She shot while standing back on her feet. "I'm out." She went to turn around, but froze at the sound of her brother's angry drunk voice.
"Where you going?"
"Out." She turned around and said, rudely.
"With who? Danielle?"
"Oh, bring her over. She's so fine!" A guy Tristan didn't recognize said while dipping his head back and daydreaming about her best friend.
"No. Wes."
"Brooks?!" Jesse shot to attention. "That prick? Since when were you fucking him?"
"Don't be gross, Jesse!" She shot. "We're just playing basketball."
"Is that all?" He slugged back down in the plastic patio chair. "Whatever. He's just hanging out with you to get to me." He scoffed while planting a doubtful seed in her brain. "Come on, guys, let's go." He got up and reached for his dad's car keys on the table next to all the empty beer cans they'd finished off.
"Don't drive, Jesse. Don't be stupid." Tristan reached to take them from him, but he just walked right by, laughing at her and calling her a slut.
Yes, I know this chapter had zero to do with Jay's crusade for forgiveness but part two will. This is just the other storyline forming. Let me know what you think!
Like Toy Soldiers - Eminem.