Class Act: A Coach/Student Romance
Class Act: Chapter 1

“TAKE IT DOWN, PUT it up, shoot it in, let’s win! Whoo!”

The skirt of my cheerleading outfit fluttered around my thighs as I executed a straight jump. Sweat trickled down my spine from the lukewarm gymnasium. Supposedly, they’d turned on the A/C before the game started, but that was questionable, given how humid it was.

None of that mattered, though, as I cheered with the rest of the varsity squad while the basketball game was underway. I didn’t know much about the sport, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out the game wasn’t going well. Both teams either sucked or were having a terrible game. They fumbled the ball, missed shots, and the crowd watching what should have been a highly anticipated game booed a few times.

Despite the disaster of the game, we had to keep the spirits high. I’d been nervous about tonight, as it was my first time cheering with the rest of the squad, but I kept up with them although I was one of the two new members. I hit every beat the way we’d planned for our pre-game cheer. Too excited about my first game, I didn’t even care that the team was losing. I was happy to cheer for a losing team anyhow.

I was happy to cheer at all.

Being a cheerleader had been my lifelong dream, and I’d finally gotten the chance to live it regardless of the obstacles I’d faced to make this iconic moment happen. The only male cheerleader on the squad. When I tried out after they’d lost a few members of the team, I’d thought they’d just humored me, but my moves had impressed them, and they listened to my ideas during our rigorous training sessions.

“The hoop is open, the net is hot, make that shot,” we chanted as one of our players aimed for the basket. And missed.

A collective groan rose from the audience. A player from the visiting team walked by us, and his eyes landed on me, roving me from head to toe. He walked right into one of his teammates, which had him looking away.

“That’s all right. That’s okay. We’ll make the next one anyway.”

A time-out was called, and the two teams huddled together. My friend Mandy, who’d curled my hair for tonight’s game, nudged me in the side with her elbow. I made an excited face, and she grinned, pulling the front of her blouse away from her body and fanning herself.

Fuck, it was hot in here.

I grabbed my bottle of water from the bench behind us and gulped down half of it, spilling some on my top. Shit. I put the cap back on the bottle and flicked the remaining droplets away before they soaked into the material. Hopefully, no one would notice.

I’d done everything I could think of to ensure tonight went smoothly. I wanted to show my team members that I was up to the task and could keep up with them. Cheering was just as rigorous as they’d warned me when I’d signed up. Maybe even more. My body had never been so stretched out and folded up in all kinds of positions in my life. Luckily, I was flexible, and dancing came easily to me.

“Girls, uh, and, Emery, can we step outside for a minute, please?”

Gasps and outbursts of “what” echoed around us. I turned to Ms. Reid, the cheer coach for our team.

“I’ll explain outside, ladies—and Emery. Get a move on quickly.”

We filed out of the gymnasium, disgruntled and confused. I was new to the team, but it was obvious this wasn’t anything normal. We were being hustled out of the game instead of cheering like we should.

Ms. Reid held the door open, and we slipped out as a whistle blew. The game had resumed. I glanced back inside, then at Ms. Reid’s face. She averted her gaze, but not before a flash of what looked like anger flickered in her eyes.

My stomach sank. Whatever had happened, it was my fault. I just knew it was, but what had I done? I had done everything I was told to do exactly the way I was supposed to do it.

“Why are we out here while the game’s going on, Ms. Reid?” Kendra, the captain of the cheer squad, asked.

Someone moved closer to me, and when a hand slipped into mine, I looked up. Mandy. She narrowed her eyes, asking me if I was fine, and I gave her the best smile I could muster.

“An official requested we wrap up the cheering until halftime,” Ms. Reid replied, her hands planted on her hips.

“What? But they can’t do that,” Ruby huffed, her ginger pigtails swinging with the angry movement of her head.

“They can if they feel the cheering is affecting the quality of the game.”

“And we’re affecting the quality of the game?” Mandy asked.

Ms. Reid glanced at me, then returned her attention to the girls. “I’m upset too, but the reason doesn’t matter. They’ve requested that the cheers be stopped, and as a cheering squad, we want what’s best for the team, so we’ll go along with it.”

“This is stupid,” another girl muttered.

“We know it’s because—”

“Ruby!” Ms. Reid snapped, and I inhaled deeply, breathing through the painful compression in my chest. My hands turned clammy, and my mouth went dry.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Chin up, put those smiles on, and return inside,” Ms. Reid said. “We may not be allowed to cheer, but we’re still here to support our team. You may sit together or in the crowd if you choose.” She settled her gaze on me. “Emery, will you stay behind?”

I knew it. I knew it was because of me.

Ruby gave me the stink eye and stomped back inside. A few of the other girls sent me sympathetic looks as they followed her. Mandy squeezed my hand and ran after them.

It took everything in me not to wrap my arms around my body. I dressed no differently than the others on the squad—a blue-and-yellow fitted top and matching high-rise delta skirt. The skirt was no shorter than the others. Yet I felt exposed again, a feeling I’d already dealt with last year when I’d come out.

I didn’t need to relive this.

“Emery.” At least Ms. Reid seemed to replace it difficult to get out whatever she had to say. She’d advocated for me to be on the team when some of the girls—Ruby and her friends—had complained about having an androgynous boy on the squad. At one point, it had even reached the school board, which found no reason a boy shouldn’t be on the cheer squad. Even if I preferred wearing a skirt rather than pants, which had been retired anyway, given the school hadn’t had a male on the squad for years.

“I know it’s not your fault, Ms. Reid.” I smiled at her, even though I was holding back my tears. “It’s okay to continue cheering without me if they’ll accept the others on the squad. I don’t mind sitting on the sidelines for this game.”

And every other game.

What if the same thing happened at other games?

“Absolutely not,” she said. “We’re a team, and if one of our members can’t cheer, we all won’t cheer. We’re all about support.”

Tell that to Ruby.

“But that’s not fair to the others.”

“And it’s not fair to you either. Come on. Get back in there.”

Like hell I would.

“I need to use the bathroom first.”

“All right, then. Take all the time you need and come back when you’re ready.”

I nodded and straightened my shoulders as I walked away. The second I was out of sight, I let them slump, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Fuck them. What kind of distraction was I for a basketball game? Did they stare at the girls while they jumped in those short skirts and executed twirls, hair swinging? At least I didn’t have any tits swelling above the neckline of the top, bouncing with every movement. My cock was well tucked away too. If anyone was complaining about me, it was because they had an internal bias about boys wearing feminine clothes, makeup, and looking beautiful.

How was any of that my problem?

But once again, I had to suffer for their ignorance.

I went straight to the boys’ locker room and changed into the pair of distressed jeans and halter top I’d worn when I came here. As I stuffed the cheer outfit into my bag, the door creaked open. I glanced over my shoulder, relieved that it was only Mandy. The students didn’t harass me too much at this school, but it happened from time to time—usually the same set of assholes who thought that because I wore skirts and makeup, I couldn’t defend myself.

“You okay?” Mandy asked.

“Yeah, just going home.”

“You sure? We were going to grab pizzas after the game.”

She was such a great friend. When I started at this school, I had been convinced I would be fine if I didn’t make any friends at all, but on the first day, she’d taken a seat beside me in our homeroom and decided we would be study buddies because she needed someone to keep her focused. I’d warned her I was more of the type to distract her, and we’d been friends since.

“I’d rather not listen to Ruby all night bitching about why we had to stop cheering.” Such a damn shame too. I would have preferred to stay out with them for as long as possible before I had to go home.

I would have preferred if I didn’t have to go home at all.

“Ruby’s stupid and jealous of you.”

I laughed. “No, she ain’t. Why would she be jealous of me?”

“Now who’s fishing for compliments?”

That was a boost to my ego. I wasn’t blind. Every mirror I checked several times a day to ensure my face was still on point showed me I was gorgeous.

It never hurt to hear it, though.

“I’m sorry tonight didn’t go the way we planned.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Maybe I should quit cheering.”

“No fucking way, you aren’t. Bitch, you’ve said how much you’ve wanted to do this.”

“But if it’s going to cause a problem—”

“It won’t. People are just not used to you yet, but give them time, and they’ll see you’re my fabulous BFF.”

I made a face. “So much for making me sound like an acquired taste.”

“You know what I mean. Besides, Ms. Reid won’t let you quit for all the wrong reasons.”

She was right. The woman was a rock and had guided me through the first week of cheerleading practice.

“I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Let’s at least visit a café tomorrow and do homework. That’s why we’re friends, isn’t it?”

I hugged her. “I thought it was because of my fierce makeup tips and so you can borrow my clothes.”

“That too. Seriously. I’m expecting you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll text you.”

“Wait.”

I turned, and she threw herself at me and snapped a photo. I licked her jaw, and she squealed like I knew she would. She was crazy, and I loved her. “Great pic!”

Of course, she immediately uploaded it as her profile pic on Instagram. I waved at her. “See ya!”

I kept my head down and quickly made my way to the parking lot. A few students hung out around a motorcycle, smoking cigarettes and talking about music. I threw my bag into the trunk of my car.

“Hey, panty boy.”

I gritted my teeth. Of course it had to be that asshole Priest Guthrie. His name couldn’t have been more ironic. His friends laughed and wolf-whistled, but I ignored them.

“What color are they tonight?”

“You saying you want to get into my panties, Priest?” I called out. “I’ll leave my bedroom window open for you tonight. Bring a condom and lube. Oh yeah, and make sure you douche first because you’re one nasty asshole.”

He spluttered, and I smirked as I jumped into my car and backed out of the parking lot.

Asshole.

Guys like Priest would always be around. Last year at the private school I’d transferred from, I’d rolled over and played dead, letting them trample all over my self-esteem. I’d been determined that this time, right off the bat, those fuckers who messed with me would know I didn’t lie down for just anyone.

Just for a really nice dick.

And preferably not attached to asshats either.

A damn shame the radio in my car was busted, so I couldn’t listen to music. I wound down the window and let the rushing wind drown out any remaining insecurities.

On the way home, I bought a burger and wolfed it down. Since I hadn’t wanted to eat before I cheered, I was hungry.

When I got home, light shone behind the curtains of the living room. I groaned. If I was lucky, maybe my dad was fast asleep on the couch—more like passed out at the rate he drank these days. He was one more missed day of work from being fired. Thank fuck I rarely depended on him for anything, or I’d have been screwed.

I had to park in the driveway, since the garage was only big enough for one. I grabbed my bag from the trunk and opened the door.

The tall figure looming in the hall stopped me in my tracks.

“Where the fuck are you coming from?” Dad asked, his sour breath enough to make me drunk.

“The basketball game.”

He waved his hand at my face. Fuck. I hadn’t washed off my makeup.

“Make up your fucking mind, boy. Do you want to be a man or a pussy?”

I flinched and inched away from him along the wall. Without answering, I slipped past him, but a hand in my hair yanked me back and ripped out the pins Mandy had used to secure my curls.

“Dad, stop! You’re hurting me.”

He only tugged harder and pushed me into the wall. “I have a son,” he spat. “I have a goddamn son, so man up and start acting like it.”

“Maybe it’s your fault. I didn’t grow up with a man around me!”

I shouldn’t have said anything. By now, I should know responding only made the situation worse.

I turned my head just in time to deflect most of the force from the punch he aimed at my face. It grazed my cheek, still hard enough for tears to pop into my eyes.

I hate him.

I fucking hate him so much.

When he stumbled back, trying to recover his balance, I shoved him away and raced up the stairs with him bellowing after me. I locked the bedroom door even though he’d said no locks in the house, but when that door was the only thing to save me from his wrath, I had no choice. Every time he confiscated the keys, I changed the locks.

I kicked a chair out of my way and threw my bag onto the floor.

I fucking hate him.