Chapter 3 CHEER SPIRIT

Friday, 9th of September

Arthur throws a twig and laughs when I miss the dance move. I'm thrown out of time and forced to start again. I remove my shoe and launch it at Arthur's smug face. He jumps to the side, and the sneaker bounces off the table and onto the grass.

"You bloody asshole, you're getting on my last nerve!"

In between laughter, he throws another twig. Yvonne rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Throw another stick and I'm going to shove it so far up your-" I turn away once I catch Savannah staring at me. If I continue with all the ways I'd like to beat him, she'll assume it's flirting.

Sadly, I don't think we're ever going to be friends.

I take a deep breath, I loosen my shoulders, and start again.

I clap my hands, shake my booty, and as I go to jump, hands grab my waist. Arthur lifts me into the air, then spins me around.

"Sorry, Christine, I was just teasing."

He places me on the grass, then hands my shoe back.

"Thanks for the apology."

"Let me see if I can help."

Arthur stretches his arms and legs before jumping in line with Yvonne. He tries to follow along, but Yvonne's high kicks are too hard because of his restricting slacks.

However, it is hilarious to see him attempt to follow along.

Arthur is out of beat and does the moves backward. Halfway through the routine, he flops on the grass and shouts, "You've wrecked me, I give up."

"See, not that easy." Yvonne shakes her head.

"Exactly."

"But Christine, if you can't do this, how are you going to dance at my party tonight?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm throwing a 'welcome back to school' party."

"You never said anything to me about it."

"Now you don't have an excuse, plus I know where you live and I will drag you if I have to."

"Ugh, I know, that was a mistake." I roll my eyes.

"Too bad sucker!"

The bell rings, so we grab our bags and head to woodwork. George and Arthur terrorise each other while I drag my feet on the way to Blain's office.

Someone coughs, and I jump. I turn around and catch Blain's eyes lingering on my thighs.

"Is there something you want?" I chuckle.

"Uh." He shakes his head. "You need to wear more clothing in the workshop. You might get hurt otherwise."

"Okay."

We enter the office, and he sits beside me.

"How are the designs coming along?"

"Well." I slide them across the table.

He grabs the paper and chokes back some laughter.

"They're something."

"Yes." I giggle.

"I'm not sure where to start."

"With a new piece of paper?"

I rip a blank page out of my notebook and pass it over. Blain grabs a pencil from a disorganised drawer and corrects the drawing on the new page.

His drawing is significantly better, for starters, he's got straighter lines.

"What you need to focus on is -" Blain swivels his chair closer, and his knee touches mine.

I attempt to avoid the slight contact, but his hairy leg tickles my skin.

Blain leans closer and uses the pencil to point. I tear my gaze away from his gorgeous face to look at the page, then I look back at his olive green eyes.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes." I cough. "I mean, no."

I really mean, I have no idea what you said.

Blain laughs, and this time, I focus on the paper and what he's saying.

Hm, I bet his lips are soft to kiss.

Shit, I'm doing it again.

I look at Blain and nod my head, "Yeah, hm."

Abort, abort! This isn't working.

For a second, Blain stops talking, and I swear he's gazing at me.

That moment is shattered when there's a knock on the window. I jump and see Arthur peeking through the blinds.

"Come on, the class just ended!"

Shoot, maybe it was longer than a second?

I scramble out of the chair and rush out of the office. What was I doing? I can't do whatever this is, and there's no way Blain . . . I shake my head.

Girl, get your hormones in check!

"Christine, come back," Blain shouts.

I stop running when I realise he's waving paper in the air. He jogs over, and I shove the paper into my bag.

"Thank you."

"We'll finalise the design on Monday," he says.

"Cheers for the help."

Blain runs back to the classroom while Arthur wraps his arm around my shoulder. We walk towards the oval while he chatters about something.

When we step onto the oval, I realise the girls are already warming up for practice.

"Shit, I need to go."

Arthur wolf whistles, so I flip him the bird and continue. He's quickly becoming a pain in my side, but a pain I don't mind? Ugh, I guess he's alright, just childish sometimes.

During warm-up, some of the girls talk about a float. It's weird until I realise it's for the homecoming event. The most my school did was hold a sports carnival every year. We'd dress in our house colours and compete against each other.

"Our homecoming float should be royalty-based since the homecoming king and queen nominations will be on it," Savannah explains.

The football team is running laps, which gives Arthur the perfect opportunity to jog over.

"What are you girls talking about?"

"Go away, Arthur." Yvonne groans.

"We're talking about the seniors float."

"It should be beach themed." He pants while running on the spot.

Savannah pouts, "But you loved my idea, Arthur."

"But the beach theme would be wicked and nice for Christine."

I raise my hands in defence, "Don't change things for me, it's your homecoming."

"But it's your first and only homecoming," Arthur says.

"The beach could be fun." Yvonne nods her head. "We could have pastel colours, sand, beach balls, and bikinis!"

Some of the girls perk up at Yvonne's comments about bikinis.

"Arthur, extra laps," Blain shouts as he runs past.

"Just think about it."

Arthur races off, and the girls 'ahh' about the new idea.

"How adorable would flower crowns be!" another girl comments. "The royalty idea is nice, but we could work that into our prom."

"Those on the homecoming float committee can vote on it," says Yvonne.

Another girl, Jane, puts the ideas up for a vote. It's a close call, but the beach theme wins because it's different. I smile because it'll be nice to work on a project based on the beach, as it's as close as I'm going to get to it.

At the end of practice, Arthur grabs my things and we walk to the car. I hop in and we speedily drive back to mine. Instead of parking in the driveway, Arthur hugs the car to the curb.

"I can pick you up before the party."

"It's okay, I'll ask my Dad for the lift."

"Okay, but if you aren't at mine by seven, I'm driving over to get you."

"Don't worry, I'll be there! I need a drink or three to destress from this week."

"Good thing there's going to be a party!"

"Yeah, it sucks that I can't go and buy my alcohol, though. I loved that freedom."

"Naw." He pouts. "That's something I won't experience until I'm twenty-one."

"Only then will you understand my pain."

"See you later, Christine."

I race into the house, only to find my father sprawled on the couch, still dressed in his police uniform. Before he moved, Dad worked in law, so when we moved back, he was able to pull strings and rejoin in the lower ranks.

"Hey Dad, can I go to a party? If so, can you buy me booze?"

"Are you sure a party is a good idea?"

"If you're worried about the friend thing, I made more friends today and they're begging me to come along." I grin.

George is still warming up to me, but we could easily be friends if we talked more.

"You're an adult, and I trust you. Just-"

"-Call if I need a lift or if I'm in trouble. Yes, Sir, I will indeed!"

"I'll buy the booze now because I need more tins."

"Tins?" I gasp. "There is some Australian left in you?"

Dad ignores my comment and walks out of the house.

I head upstairs and rummage through my drawers. I pluck out a pair of black jeans, a white crop top, and a silver necklace to make it look like I put effort in. I tie my blonde hair into a high ponytail and apply neutral makeup with clear lip gloss.

Once I'm ready, I jog downstairs and find Dad in the kitchen leaning against the counter.

"Isn't there more clothing with that top?"

"No." I laugh.

I walk around the bench and rest my head on his shoulder. "It's weird going from a legal adult to a minor."

"You've always been my baby girl, but I understand the adjustment. I trust you and I know you'll make the right choices because you are an adult."

"Thank you." I kiss his cheek.

"Don't get drunk because I don't want to deal with your hungover mood swings." He shakes his head.

"Are you kidding me?" I laugh. "You know damn right I could drink those fuckers under the table."

"You are too much like your mother sometimes." He laughs. "She loved to party, which is why you worry me."

"I still remember the moves you taught me. Punch in the throat, then the balls." I wave my arms and legs in the air, which makes him laugh.

Dad laughs. "That's my girl."

There's a message on my phone from Arthur. It's his address and another message telling me to hurry up. I reply, then skip out of the house.

Dad grabs a jacket and throws it at me while he grabs the keys.

"Come on, let's get you to that party."

I think I could grow to like this place.