7. Lucas

CHAPTER 7

LUCAS

"Nice of you to join us," Lynda snarked. She tossed my old, worn pair of black ballet slippers in my direction as I reached the front desk. "Dee is out sick, so you need to take her intermediate barre class."

"Nope." I tossed the shoes back at my aunt. "I've got a private tumbling session in ten. And you know as well as I do how much traffic sucks between here and the gym."

Lynda slapped the shoes down on the desk. "One, the barre class is after your tumbling class so ha. And two, when are you gonna quit that damn squad, mijo? They pay you shit. Hell, you end up paying for the privilege some months. I see you stressing about the money!"

Grabbing the shoes as I passed, I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine, Titi. Everyone has bad months, right?"

She pursed her lips into a thin line, watching me head down the corridor towards the open gym area at the back of the repurposed warehouse. Mom and Aunt Lynda started Stars and Rainbows when I was little. It'd been part of my life forever, it felt like, and when I got old enough and skilled enough to teach kids some tumbling and dance skills, it was only natural I joined them there.

Adding on the Troopers Cheer Squad had gone over like a fart in church. Between my childhood dreams of being on stage and my mom's dreams of me committing to ballet, cheer was like a slap in the face to the family, apparently.

At least according to my cousin Allie, who loved telling me all about her career in Chicago and how Mom and Lynda would just sigh and look sad whenever I was mentioned.

I tossed the slippers, an old pair I kept at the studio ‘just in case,' next to the shelf unit with the student cubbies and the dock for my phone. The gym was quiet now. The lightly colored walls closed in on me as I made my way to the center of the space to warm up. Lynda's words echoed in my mind, stirring up years-old frustration and nausea. I'm not just a cheerleader , I responded whenever Lynda or Mom started in about my life choices. But finally, finally, after what seemed like forever, I realized it didn't matter if I was ‘just' a cheerleader. If that was my one and only goal in life. I loved it, I was damned good at it, and I busted my ass to get where I was. That should make them proud and not act like I was having some rebellious phase and would snap out of it, run off to Chicago, and join the Joffrey like Allie.

As I stretched and warmed up, I couldn't shake off the conflicting emotions swirling within me. The truth was, the cheer squad was my lifeline, my escape from the harsh realities of my life. Executing a perfect flip or nailing a difficult routine brought me a sense of euphoria I couldn't find anywhere else.

But Lynda was right too. The squad barely covered my expenses, and every month was a struggle to make ends meet. The constant pressure of financial worries gnawed at me, threatening to overshadow the enjoyment I got from cheer.

Which, when I really thought about it, was kind of ironic in a mega-suck way. "Cheer makes me uncheer," I muttered, heading for the mats to stretch.

As I settled into a split, the familiar creak of the gym door opening made me glance over. Standing there, equal parts nervous and determined, was Kyle. A longtime dance student who'd recently expressed interest in cheer, Kyle was a shy kid who had been coming in for private tumbling lessons for the past few weeks.

"Hey, Kyle. Ready to work on those back handsprings again?" I called out, smiling warmly at him. He nodded, his eyes darting around the room before landing on me.

"Just me today, right?" he asked, his voice bouncing off the high, empty walls. He sounded little wary, a little shaky, only easing further into the room once I nodded.

"Just the two of us. What's up?" When he started to shake his head, I gave him a look . "Dude. I know the look of being picked on. I have a gold medal in being bullied. What's going on, Kyle?"

I gestured for him to join me on the mats, and together we went through the drills and exercises I had planned for the day. As Kyle struggled with his form, I offered more encouragement and guidance than usual. Something about his determination resonated with me, a reminder of why I had fallen in love with cheer in the first place. It didn't erase my uneasy feeling entirely, but it soothed the anxiety to be reminded why I was doing this. Why I was cobbling together so many jobs to make the ends come even close to meeting.

After an hour of intense practice, Kyle finally nailed a solid back handspring. The look of pure joy on his face mirrored the buzzy flutter in my chest. "That was awesome , Kyle!" I enthused, raising my hands for a double high five.

Kyle grinned, the bright pink bands on his braces bright in his wide smile. "Am I gonna be ready for the tryouts, do you think? They're in July so the squad can practice a lot before the season starts. I mean, it's okay if I'm not. But I really want to be."

"One step at a time," I soothed, motioning for him to go grab his water bottle. "Honestly, about ninety percent of acing tryouts freshman year is enthusiasm."

"But I want to be awesome ," he complained, dropping to sit on one of the folded mats. He shot me a plaintive look before adding, "I'm the only guy, you know? I'm already getting crap from my brothers about it and some of the guys on the soccer team."

"And you want to make them eat their words?"

He huffed. "Eat something, alright." After a noisy slurp from his water bottle, he gave me a sideways glance. "My brother Matt, his girlfriend Cara went to that fundraiser you did the other day. Her sister's into soccer too and got a lot of crap about being trans and bi."

"Ah, shit," I sighed, sinking down to sit beside him. "She's got a queer sister, and she's dating your brother?"

Kyle shrugged. "Matt's not a 'phobe. He's just a jerk. He thinks me going into cheer is giving up soccer, and all the guys in my family play soccer." Another slurp, then, "And maybe he's a little phobic. He was all weird about that thing with Cooper Howard."

The rush of defensiveness for Cooper surprised me. Well, annoyed me, then surprised me. He's a bit boy, Lucas. He doesn't need you defending him. Especially against some high schooler whose frontal cortex hasn't finished forming. Still, I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Weird how?"

Kyle shrugged. "Like, wondering why Coop was there, why did he have to shove in our faces, man ," he said in an obvious mockery of his brother's tone and voice. After one more sip, he smirked. "That pissed Cara off. I think she's gonna break up with him. She can do way better than Matt."

"It definitely sounds like it," I huffed.

"Is it true, though? That he's helping out with Queering Sports now?" He scrubbed at a chalk mark on his shorts, affecting disinterest. "I knew Ash was, but he hasn't been a player in a while. And those guys from the minors in San Antonio. My brother Rob is super into baseball and loves the Cottonmouths, so he was kinda excited they were in town but not enough to go to the event." Frowning, he stared at his bare, chalky feet on the blue mat. "It's really cool Cooper Howard's helping out. My dad usually bitches about the whole Queering Sports thing whenever I bring home a flyer, but he was kind of excited that Coppertop was front and center, you know?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I'm hearing a lot of that lately."

Kyle shrugged again. "Anyway. I know the other guys from the team were there, and you and the cheerleaders were there, but I was thinking maybe my dad would be cool with me going if he thought a lot of big sports guys were there too."

"There were a lot of ‘sports guys,'" I laughed. "Tons!"

Kyle's cheeks pinked, and he gave me another one of those teenager shrugs. "I know, but, like... my dad and his friends would be really excited, right? It'd be a good excuse to take the kids and whatever..."

I nodded. "Or whatever." My phone beeped to signal the end of the break. "Well, he's definitely helping out, and we're definitely having more events soon so tell your dad Cooper Howard will be there. Maybe we'll see you?"

Kyle smiled. "Maybe."

We did another twenty minutes of practice before our time was up, but I spent most of it silently cursing everyone for being right about Cooper Howard and myself for not thinking of this sooner.

I dragged myself into the empty apartment after classes were done and I endured another lecture from Lynda about getting a real job, dedicating myself to the school, getting my MBA... I just nodded and wished for death for a good ten minutes until another student came in and I could make a break for it. The heat of the day was unrelenting, a thunderstorm threatening with crunchy black clouds overhead and oppressive humidity sticking to my skin even after I shut the door behind me.

I recited the prayer of all Texans—"Thank god for air conditioning!"—and headed for the bathroom in the hallway, shedding my clothes as I went. With Renata out of town, I could be an absolute slob for a few minutes, I reasoned. And if those few minutes turned into half an hour because I happened to glance at the sofa as I walked past and couldn't shake memories of the makeout session with Cooper... Well. No one was there to jump on my case about using so much water.

I was still riding a slightly guilty vibe when I padded out of the bathroom to grab my dirty clothes and toss them in the wash. Catching a glimpse of myself in the shiny surface of the fridge door, I pause to give my body an assessing glace. And okay, maybe a tiny bit admiring because damn I had been working hard to stay in shape for the squad, and it was showing. Maybe I got a little caught up in my kitchen posing because when my phone buzzed, I yelped and leaped about six inches in the air. Fumbling my phone from the pocket of the pants clutched in one hand, I saw Cooper's name on the screen. Heat rushed to my throat and face, the urge to cover my junk as I answered reflexive. "Hey," I breathed. "Um. What's up?"

Cooper's pause was weighty. When he finally replied, he sounded... lower. Like maybe a little gravelly? Like... really really sexy. "Well, a minute ago, I would've said nothing, but now I'm not so sure. Am I interrupting something?"

"Huh? Oh, er, no?" I winced, snagging a fallen sock from the floor and hustling through to the laundry room to toss everything in the open washer. "Just settling in for the evening. You?"

He sighed, sounding tired. I thought I heard fabric rustling on the other end of the line. "Same. I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink, but it sounds like you're in for the night."

"So do you."

Yeah, that was definitely fabric. Was he in bed? Oh my god, was he in bed? Not like I had room to talk—I was balls naked in the middle of my sister's kitchen. At least he had a sheet.

Maybe.

"I mean, I could be persuaded to go out." Even though my heart was somersaulting in my chest, I tried to sound casual. "Where did you have in mind?"

Cooper chuckled, a warm sound making me shiver with delight. "There's this quiet bar down the street from me. Nothing fancy, just a place to unwind. How does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect." A grin spread across my face. "Let me just throw on some clothes and I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."

After hanging up, I practically danced around the apartment. I settled on a simple but stylish outfit, wanting to look good but not like I was trying too hard. As I headed out the door, I couldn't ignore the butterflies in my stomach or the way my pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Cooper again. When I pulled into the tiny parking area behind the bar, I had a burst of second thoughts. What the hell am I doing? A week ago, I wanted him to fuck off into the sun, and now I'm giddy about getting a drink with him.

Okay, Lucas, keep this professional. Let him know from the get-go this isn't something romantic, not a hookup, strictly two people getting together to have a drink and talk about a shared project.

Tell him about Kyle. That's a good jumping-off point. Get the conversation going about bringing in those uncertain parents.

I spit out the minty gum I'd popped before leaving the apartment and smoothed my hands over my shirt one more time before I caught myself. "Christ, Lucas," I scolded my reflection in the visor mirror, "stop this. Now. Gay Commandment Number One: Thou Shalt Not Let Your Dick Make Decisions For You."

Apparently, my dick had missed that Sunday school meeting because I gave myself one more primp in the mirror and stepped out into the humid evening.

The bar was dimly lit when I arrived. Cooper sat at a table near the back, a faint smile playing on his lips as he saw me walking in. My heart did a little flip at the sight of him, so relaxed and confident in his jeans and t-shirt. As I made my way over, I tried to keep my own grin in check but felt it tug at the corners of my mouth uncontrollably.

"Hey," I greeted him, sliding into the seat across from him after stopping by the bar to order a gin and tonic.

"Hey yourself." Cooper's eyes crinkled with warmth. "Glad you could make it."

"Honestly, I almost said no," I admitted. "I was giving serious consideration to binge-watching the episodes of Interview with the Vampire I haven't seen yet and eating my weight in pretzels, then zonking out for the night."

"Glad I'm more appealing that pretzels," he laughed. "Though I have to say it's quite the ego stroke that you picked having a drink with me overspending the night with hot vampires."

"Well," I smiled slyly, "you know what they say. Vampires suck."

He snorted, almost spitting out the sip of beer he'd just taken.

I took another sip of my drink. The initial uncertainty melted away under Cooper's easy charm. We talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughter like we'd known each other for years. The more we talked, the more I found myself drawn to him—his passion for helping with Queering Sports, his love for baseball, and the genuine kindness shining through in everything he said.

As the evening wore on, the bar grew more crowded as people moved through the city looking for things to do for the night. "It's usually way more chill than this." Cooper leaned across the table so I could hear him over the dull thrum of conversation around us.

"I guess this means we won't be talking business," I sighed, fishing one of the juniper-flavored ice cubes from the bottom of my glass and giving it a crunch. Cooper's expression, so relaxed and open for most of the evening, fell like a souffle on the countertop.

"I... didn't know you wanted to talk about the project," he said carefully, leaning back in his seat. "Um. We can, if you want. Maybe go somewhere quieter?"

My stomach gave a lazy, lopsided flip. I'd upset Cooper, maybe hurt his feelings, and I felt like shit. Just one simple sentence, not even something intentionally hurtful, chased that smile from his face and closed him off as sure as slamming a door between us.

Before I could second-guess myself, words tumbled out. I leaned close, his gaze wary, as I blurted, "Look, let's go somewhere, okay? Not to talk about the project or anything. Just... I don't know. A walk around the block?" I suggested, offering a tentative smile. "Ice cream?"

A clot of people burst through door of the bar, two wearing sashes proclaiming Bride-to-Be. The vibe shifted dramatically, people calling out congratulations. The music on the jukebox, sort of a lowkey instrumental jazz situation, flipped to something fast and poppy.

"Walk sounds good," Cooper allowed, though he didn't sound enthusiastic.

Still, though, he followed me as I wove a path through the growing crowd and out into the humid night.