The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 126: Regionals

The James River Regional Athletic Center looked too big for high school girls with hairspray headaches and glitter on their eyelids.

The bus pulled into the parking lot just after sunrise, and Roxie stared out the window at the wide glass entrance, the event banners, and the stream of teams unloading garment bags, duffels, makeup cases, and nerves.

Everywhere she looked, girls were moving.

Ponytails. Bows. Warmup jackets. Rhinestones catching the pale morning light.

This year, Roxie and Kendall were captains.

This year, failure had both their names on it.

Coach Miller stood at the front of the bus and clapped once.

Nobody jumped because nobody had enough energy left to jump without counts.

"Listen," Coach Miller said.

The bus went quiet.

Even Karen stopped digging through her bag.

Coach Miller’s face was serious. His clipboard was tucked under one arm. His eyes moved over every girl like he was checking for cracks before they stepped into the building.

"Last year, Briarwick placed fourth."

Nobody spoke.

Roxie’s stomach tightened.

Fourth was close enough to hurt. Everyone have cried so hard especially the seniors. When you give everything to perfect the routine, with the dream of going to State and leaving their name.

Coach Miller continued. "Fourth means you were good enough to be remembered by no one. Fourth means the season ended in a parking lot with tears and excuses. Fourth means you watched another team take the spot you wanted."

Angela looked down at her hands.

Karen pressed her lips together.

Kendall sat straighter.

Roxie stared at Coach Miller and tried to keep her face from showing anything.

"This is the floor that decides whether you are done or whether you keep going," Coach Miller said. "So when you step off this bus, you are not walking in like girls hoping to get lucky. You are walking in like athletes who earned the right to be here."

The bus stayed quiet.

Then Coach Miller looked at Roxie.

Then Kendall.

"You two set the tone."

Kendall nodded once.

Roxie nodded too.

Her throat felt dry.

Coach Miller stepped down first.

The doors opened.

Cold air rushed in.

The team started moving.

Bags came down from overhead racks. Warmup jackets were zipped. Bows were checked. Lip gloss was passed across seats like medical supplies. Someone whispered a prayer near the back. Someone else whispered the opening counts under her breath.

Roxie stood and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

Angela touched her elbow. "You okay?"

Roxie gave her a look. "That question needs to be banned today. Everyone’s on the edge."

Angela smiled nervously. "Fair. God this is so stressful. I haven’t been able to eat much since yesterday."

Karen leaned into the aisle behind them. "I feel like I’m going to throw up glitter."

"That’ll probably be iconic," Roxie said. "But we are not in pitch perfect. Swallow it down."

"That’ll leave your name legendary. Just not the way you want."

Kendall turned from the front. "Can everyone stop talking about throwing up?"

Karen saluted. "Yes, captain one."

Kendall narrowed her eyes.

Karen pointed at Roxie. "She’s captain two."

"I’m captain one," Roxie said.

Kendall turned fully now. "Based on what?"

"Face."

"Not just because you put on a whole line of faceup, you got the best face."

Tori smoothed her hair. "Stop bickering. God you’re making me more nervous."

They both rolled their eyes at each other.

Outside, the parking lot was already chaos.

Buses lined the curb. Parents hauled garment bags and coolers. Coaches barked instructions. Cheerleaders stretched by the pavement like the cold could be ignored if they lifted their legs high enough. Someone’s mother was crying already, which Roxie thought was aggressive for eight in the morning.

The building rose in front of them with glass doors and huge blue banners that read VIRGINIA REGIONAL CHEER COMPETETION.

Coach Miller pointed toward the entrance. "Move together. No wandering. No staring like tourists."

Karen immediately stared around like a tourist.

Angela elbowed her.

They walked inside.

The regional center swallowed them whole.

The lobby was huge and loud, with polished floors, high ceilings, and banners hanging from metal rails. Registration tables lined one wall. Volunteers in event shirts handed out packets and wristbands. Teams stood in clusters, each one marked by uniform colors and matching bows. Music thumped faintly from somewhere deeper in the building.

The smell hit Roxie first.

Hairspray.

Floor cleaner.

Coffee.

Popcorn.

Sweat under perfume.

Competition smelled the same everywhere, apparently. Like panic wearing body glitter.

Briarwick followed Coach Miller to registration. Kendall walked on one side of him. Roxie walked on the other. That should have looked united.

It felt like a warning.

Girls from other schools looked at them as they passed.

Some curious.

Some bored.

Some already deciding Briarwick was nothing.

Roxie kept her chin up.

Coach Miller got their packet, schedule, wristbands, and warmup assignment. He scanned everything with the expression of a man reading battle instructions.

"Warmup block in forty-five minutes," he said. "We have holding area first, then stretch mat, stunt mat, full-out mark, then floor walk. Bags to section C. Nobody eats anything weird. We don’t need someone visiting the bowl."

They moved deeper into the building.

The main arena opened beyond a set of double doors.

For a second, Roxie forgot to breathe.

The competition floor sat in the middle like something waiting to judge them before the judges even arrived. Bright lights shone down on the blue mat. Long tables stood in front with laptops, papers, water bottles, and name cards. Bleachers climbed high on both sides, already filling with parents, teams, and students holding signs.

The sound inside was bigger.

Shoes squeaking.

Music blasting.

Announcements cracking over speakers.

Teams chanting in corners.

A flyer laughed too loud near the rail.

Somewhere, a stunt group hit a basket toss, and the crowd around them clapped like it was nothing.

Roxie’s palms went damp.

Kendall stopped beside her.

For once, she said nothing.

Roxie glanced at her.

Kendall’s face was calm, but her throat moved when she swallowed.

Thank god. It’s not only her. Because if Kendall was scared too, maybe Roxie was not weak for feeling like her stomach had turned into a fist.

Coach Miller turned back to them. "Look at it."

They did.

The whole team went quiet.

"This is what you wanted," he said. "You wanted a floor that matters. Here it is."

Roxie stared at the mat.

Her heartbeat was too loud.

Roxie breathed through her nose.

In.

Out.

She had performed before.

She had cheered in front of crowds.

She had hit stunts with football boys screaming and band drums pounding and cold wind cutting through her uniform.

This was different.

At games, people watched because cheer was there.

Here, they watched because cheer was the point. For once, they are not the support. Today they are the star.

That made every movement feel naked before she even stepped on the mat.

Briarwick took over two rows of seats near the back wall of the holding area. Coach Miller made them line up their bags under the chairs because apparently even bags needed discipline. Girls started fixing each other’s hair, checking lipstick, tightening bows.

Kendall stood near the end of the row, going through the schedule again.

Roxie watched her for a second.

Kendall looked up. "What?"

"Stop reading that. You already memorized it."

"Who fucking cares. Mind your own business Jones."

Roxie rolled her eyes. "Just make sure you count properly this time."

Kendall fake smiled. "Make sure not to stumble again. Wouldn’t want a second showing of Captain flying."

"I get it your nervous. Don’t be a bitch."

Kendall’s mouth tightened. "And you like pretending panic is confidence."

Roxie stared at her.

For half a second, they were right back in school. Sharp edges. Old rivalry. Two girls who had spent years trying to be the one who didn’t blink.

Then Angela called from behind them, "Please fight after we qualify for state."

Karen added, "Or before, but make it iconic."

Roxie looked away first.

Kendall folded the schedule and slipped it into her bag.

"Fine," Kendall said.

"Fine," Roxie said.

That was probably the closest they were getting to teamwork before ten in the morning.

Then Riverside Gale walked in.

The room changed.

Roxie hated that it did.

Nobody announced them. Nobody needed to.

Girls in navy and white moved through the holding area like the building had been built around their arrival. Their uniforms were sharp and clean, with navy skirts, white accents, and white bows placed perfectly high on every ponytail. Their makeup matched. Their warmup jackets matched. Even their water bottles matched.

Riverside Gale.

Last year’s regional champion.

Karen leaned toward Angela. "Oh, I hate that they look good."

Angela stared. "They look like a college team."

Roxie’s eyes moved to the front of their group.

Heather.

Riverside’s captain.

Everyone knew Heather even if they had never spoken to her. Her name had lived on score sheets, competition posts, and Coach Miller’s mouth all season. Heather landed clean. Heather hit sharp. Heather. Heather. Heather.

Sometimes Roxie wondered why this girl didn’t go to gymnastics.

Heather scanned the room to them.

Paused on Roxie.

Then Kendall.

Then she smiled.

It was small.

It was also insulting.

Roxie’s teeth pressed together.

Kendall stepped beside her without looking like she meant to.

Heather kept walking.

Karen whispered, "I take it back. I want the Christmas trees."

As if summoned, the Eagles cheer squad came through the doors next.

Green and gold everywhere.

Bright green uniforms with metallic gold stripes. Gold bows. Gold glitter. Gold lettering across their warmup jackets. The overhead lights hit them so hard Roxie had to blink.

Karen stared. "It’s like I have a psychic powers."

Kendall looked straight ahead. "Focus."

The Eagles settled across the room, loud and bright and confident. A few of them looked toward Briarwick and whispered. One girl pointed subtly at Kendall. Another looked at Roxie and did that quick up-down scan girls used when they wanted you to feel measured.

Roxie gave her a flat stare.

The girl looked away first.

Coach Miller clapped twice.

"Up."

Briarwick moved.

They headed into the stretch area for their warmup block.

The stretch mat was crowded with teams rotating in and out. Volunteers with headsets called times. Coaches watched clocks like seconds were money. Music from the main floor bled through the walls, making everything feel like it was happening too fast.

"Circle," Coach Miller said.

They circled.

They stretched.

Roxie’s body complained immediately, but pain was familiar. Pain meant she had something to do with her hands and legs besides shake.

There was only warmup.

Only counts.

Only the body.

She could trust her body more than her life.

Her body knew what to do.

They moved to stunt mat next.

That was where the nerves turned dangerous.

A team beside them dropped a flyer during a lib and caught her low. The whole mat seemed to flinch. The girl laughed it off, but her base looked pale.

Coach Miller’s jaw went hard. "Eyes here. Their mistakes are not yours."

Roxie stepped into position.

Kendall counted.

"Five, six, seven, eight."

They hit the first stunt.

Solid.

Roxie’s breath came easier.

Second stunt.

A little wobble.

Coach Miller’s eyes snapped to them. "Again."

They went again.

Cleaner.

Third stunt.

Hit.

Angela smiled for the first time all morning.

Karen whispered, "Okay. Okay. Body works. Love that."

Roxie let out a breath.

Her hands still shook a little when she reached for her water, but less now.

Across the warmup space, Riverside Gale hit a sequence so clean half the room looked over.

Heather came down from a stunt, adjusted her bow like nothing had happened, and smiled at her team.

"They’re good," Kendall said beside her.

Roxie took a drink. "I have eyes."

"They’re beatable."

Roxie looked at her.

Kendall’s expression stayed serious.

For once, there was no edge in her voice.

Roxie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You trying to motivate me, Whitlock?"

"I’m trying to keep you from staring at Heather like she’s already holding the trophy."

Roxie’s mouth tightened. "I’m not."

"Sure. Just don’t bring that negativity to our team."

"Fine," Roxie said. "They’re beatable."

Kendall nodded once. "Exactly."

Then heather walking Around with 2 more cheerleader behind her back like they own the place and no need to warm up.

They stopped infront of them.

"Briarwick," Heather said. "Fourth place came back."