Cheer practice was the only place I trusted myself to breathe.
Class had drained whatever patience I woke up with, and the whispers had pushed me straight to my limit. By the time I stepped into the practice gym, I was vibrating with frustration.
Perfect.
Frustration made me focused. Focus made me sharp.
“Okay, ladies,” I said as I tossed my bag aside, “warm up. Full stretch. We’re fixing yesterday’s stunt group mess.”
The squad scrambled. Even Sasha didn’t argue, which meant I must’ve looked like I was one glare away from shifting.
Good.
Geneva jogged over to me, ponytail bouncing like she never had a bad day in her life, “You’re glowing with murder. Everything alright?”
“No,” I said.
“Damian?”
“Obviously.”
She grinned like this was all a romantic comedy and not my slow descen
